The Illuminations Read Online Free PDF

Maureen held it out in front of her, trying to imagine the young woman who could make a picture like that.
‘Good Lord, Anne,’ she said, returning to the living-room. ‘I hadno idea you kept even more of these old suitcases. They have labels on them, those beautiful old labels you used to get. It says: Anne Quirk, 12 Jane Street, New York . That must be you.’
‘That was me.’
Maureen’s own mother had been self-sufficient at the end and didn’t want help, but Anne was different and full of surprises, like the miracle of that photograph, thought Maureen. She helped Anne into bed. She spread the covers and leaned in to put off the lamp.
‘I need to send a cheque or a postal order,’ Anne said.
‘Everything’s all right.’ Maureen tucked her in and felt glad that she and Anne were the great pals of Lochranza Court. It was lovely to know a person who doesn’t want to judge you all the time.
‘But it needs to be sent to Blackpool,’ Anne said. ‘They have two daughters and one’s called Sheila.’
‘Who are these people, Anne? Can I help you?’
‘They’re my friends. She’s the landlady.’
She enjoyed looking at Maureen’s face, how it became lively when things were upsetting, how she always had something to say. Maybe Maureen was a shopkeeper, the way she came to her room with soup and milk. And maybe she could help her send the money to Blackpool.
Don’t forget the Scotch tape, Harry. And if I were you I would get some cotton wool. Bert phoned and said there’s an editor who wants the youth of today. That’s what they’re looking for. I was out half the night at the cafes and these pictures, Harry, you’ll like one or two, I’m sure you will. These teenagers. You wouldn’t believe them. On Saturday I’m photographing a group at the Fleetwood Marine.
Maureen stroked her hand. ‘Away to sleep,’ she said. ‘There’ll be another day tomorrow, if God spares us.’
‘Harry said he would come.’
‘Away to sleep.’
Maureen wandered back to her own flat. It must be good to know that your husband was something in the world and that he loved you. Must give you a good feeling, Harry saying your name as he flew over the fields and saying your name when he lay down beside you at night.

2M2H
Early one morning in the summer of that year a troop carrier roared past a melon stall on the road to Maiwand. Inside the vehicle the boys were ribbing each other, the boys of A Section, a pair of fire teams in the 1st Royal Western Fusiliers. It wasn’t strictly an Irish regiment but it had always attracted boys with a sense of Ireland behind them, a number of songs or a father who swore by an old decision.
The cab shook and you could taste the dust. The lads were jammed in the middle of the convoy. Captain Luke Campbell was in charge of the section and he sat in the Vector with his rifle flat across his knees. He was talking about the Afghan servicemen they were meant to be looking after during the mission. ‘The nobs can blab all they like,’ Luke said. ‘There are ANA troops I’d choose over half the Paras.’
‘Too right,’ Private Dooley said.
‘No messin’,’ Flannigan said. ‘I’d take the ragamuffins every time over the Plonkers.’
Luke screwed up his face. ‘But we’re not training the Plonkers, much as they fucken need it. We’re training the Fundies. Keep it clear in your heads: we’re the Operational Mentor Liaison Team.’
‘We’re their Sandhurst,’ Dooley said.
‘Whatever, Doosh.’
They rode along and the air got hotter. Private Lennox hadbeen up top for two hours with sand smacking him in the face and he was melting when he came down. They passed another stall. The boys’ tongues were hanging out for a cold drink but the boss said they couldn’t stop because every local fucker was probably a roadside bomb. ‘Best fucken army training in the world,’ he said, ‘and you crows are still unconvinced that water is better for you than cans of Fanta.’ Private Flannigan of