Across the Barricades

Three years apart, then a Catholic boy says hello

Belfast, early 1970s.

Three years apart, then a Catholic boy says hello

Belfast, early 1970s. The Troubles have carved the city into Protestant and Catholic territories walled off by barbed wire and suspicion. Sadie Jackson, a sharp-tongued Protestant girl of sixteen, spots Kevin McCoy in a crowd—the dark, restless Catholic boy she once fought and then befriended three summers ago. Over coffee and hamburgers, their old banter returns as if the years hadn't passed. At the bus stop, Linda Mullet—Sadie's neighbor—recognizes Kevin's unmistakably Catholic name and hurries off. Sadie doesn't care. She and Kevin ride to Cave Hill, where the city lies peaceful below them and he touches her fair hair. Both sense they are embarking on something dangerous, but neither has ever been inclined to retreat from danger.

Sadie's parents need brandy; Kevin's friend hides a gun

Linda wastes no time. Visiting the Jacksons under pretense of seeing Sadie's brother Tommy, she drops Kevin's name like a grenade into the kitchen. Mrs Jackson grips the table and requires brandy. Mr Jackson forbids Sadie from seeing Kevin. Sadie threatens to leave home—she's nearly seventeen, and no one can drag her back. Tommy tries to mediate but fails. Across the barricades, Kevin faces a different pressure. Brian Rafferty, his childhood friend, leads him upstairs and reveals a rifle and ammunition hidden under his bed—Provisional IRA weaponry. Brian wants Kevin to hide it in the scrapyard where Kevin works. Kevin refuses and calls him a fool. Brian points the rifle down the stairs at Kevin's retreating back and laughs softly.

A beach argument over religion ends beneath a dripping shelter

Saturday in Bangor. They swim in the freezing outdoor pool at Pickie, picnic on the rocks, and compete at the shooting gallery where Kevin proves unnervingly accurate. But on Ballyholme sands, Sadie needles him about confession and the power of priests; he retaliates by mocking Protestants for worshipping a dead Dutchman on a white horse. She accuses Catholics of wanting to outnumber them. He calls her afraid. He storms off across the darkening sand. Rain begins—first drizzle, then solid sheets. Kevin returns to find her still crouching in the downpour, stubborn and soaked. He hauls her to a shelter and calls her a stupid twit. His mouth softens. He kisses her. They hold each other while rain hammers the roof, and miss the last bus without caring.

Her father blocks the street; gunfire follows Kevin home Uncle Albert, Kevin's irrepressible uncle, rescues them from the roadside in his sputtering wreck of a car—which promptly overheats and dies. They walk the remaining miles through a Belfast crackling with violence: a burning shop, armoured cars,…