Winter Song Read Online Free PDF

Father Moynihan?’
    â€˜No, I’m Father Twomey, Chaplain at the Gelton Apostleship of the Sea. But Father Moynihan has been and he’s coming again. I know he wants to see you, to have a long talk with you.’
    â€˜I wish Fanny’d come. I don’t understand. She always came before. Always met me off the ship. Oh, that poor little lad!’ he exclaimed, he made a violent movement in the bed; for a moment Father Twomey thought he was going to leap through the window, he restrained him.
    â€˜What little lad?’
    After a pause, the old man said ‘I don’t know.’
    â€˜His mind is completely bewildered, and there are great blanks in it too.’ Father Twomey thought; he said,
    â€˜I must go now, Dennis Fury. I have many things to do. Just have a little more of this milk and brandy before I go—just to please me,’ he said, and he was pleased when the old man’s hand reached out for the cup.
    â€˜There.’
    â€˜Will you tell Fanny I’m here. I know she’ll be worried. Oh Christ, that time I fell I thought I’ll not see Fanny again.…’
    â€˜What time you fell?’
    â€˜The first time.’
    â€˜The first time, where?’
    Again the pause, again the same answer, ‘I don’t know,’ and ‘why didn’t she come? It’s unlike her,’ the two hands gripped the hem of the priest’s coat—‘why can’t I go home?’
    â€˜I’ve told you. You’ll be home to-morrow. Lie back now like a good man and don’t distress yourself. Fanny will see you very soon. Is Fanny your wife’s name? It’s a nice name.’
    The man had fallen back on the pillows, the conversation had exhausted him.
    â€˜Yes, the sooner he is out of here the better. I can’t understand why his wife wasn’t brought up here at once.’
    The telephone was ringing. He hurried from the room and went below. Delahane, he knew, was out. ‘And there’s the bus, too,’ he exclaimed.
    â€˜Hello, oh, it’s you.…’
    â€˜You have seen his wife?…’
    â€˜You are coming round now.…’
    Somebody was hammering on the door.
    â€˜Yes, of course. This time you had better stay. There’s no accounting for the old man. One minute he remembers something, the next he has forgotten it. Yes, do explain that his wife is coming.’
    He dropped the receiver.
    â€˜What is all this?’ he asked, opening the door.
    â€˜Just saying good-bye, Father,’ the man said.
    â€˜Why, of course, I’ve a difficult case upstairs, sorry I had to rush away and leave you. Let’s go,’ and he went down the corridor with the lumbering men.
    Outside, Delahane was waiting. He stood by the door as each man climbed into the bus.
    â€˜You have your voucher, your sandwiches, cigarettes?’
    â€˜Yes, thank you.’
    Father Twomey stood watching them go. They smiled and waved through the window, they cried good-byes into the cold night air and, watching them as the bus revved up and finally moved, he felt a lifting of the heart, yet wondered on that hateful sea—and thought of the ocean that might claim them. A final wave of the hand and he went in.
    â€˜Go right up, Father Moynihan,’ he said, as soon as the other priest arrived.
    â€˜Thank you.’
    He heard the heavy feet climbing the stairs. Later he fell fast asleep in the office chair.
    â€˜My name is Richard Moynihan and I am your parish priest. You know me, Dennis Fury?’
    The old man nodded his head.
    â€˜Take your time, take it easy, and try to be brave,’ the priest said, he clasped the other’s hand in his own.
    â€˜Yes, Father,’ falteringly.
    â€˜I have seen Fanny.’
    He watched the expression suddenly change in Dennis Fury’s face, the gentle knowledge.
    â€˜Why hasn’t she come? I want her.’
    â€˜You will see her in the morning.’
    â€˜I want