{"id":1390,"date":"2022-10-20T14:51:04","date_gmt":"2022-10-20T14:51:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1390"},"modified":"2022-10-20T14:52:13","modified_gmt":"2022-10-20T14:52:13","slug":"going-back","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/going-back\/1390\/","title":{"rendered":"Going Back"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Kelleher was struggling to remember. He\u2019d been walking for ages. Days? There\u2019d been a wide river, a bridge, cars strewn across it, some in flames. Or had he dreamt that? There\u2019d been towns, wrecked, as if a colossal foot had stamped on them. Fields, miles of them, just cinders. And his brain had just kept saying: go west.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Was he in shock? He\u2019d hunger pangs, felt as numb as a corpse, and his mouth was dry, aching for a drop of water. And now before him a road with a line of stationary lorries, some kind of building, and the sea. Was it a ferry port?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            At the entrance was a gaggle of humanity: fearful eyes, pinched faces, everybody seemingly distracted. Was that how he looked?<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Irish citizens this way,\u2019 a voice shouted. \u2018The rest of you stay<\/em> where you are. We\u2019ll get to you in due course.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A groan of disappointment. On autopilot he pushed his way to the gate. A red face in a uniform addressed him: \u2018Irish?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Suppose.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Name?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Se\u00e1n Kelleher.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Passport?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Uh\u2026 lost it, I think.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018That an English accent?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Well\u2026 maybe\u2026 but\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Get back over there,\u2019 the man said, pointing to the crowd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He must try to remember. \u2018I was born in Ireland. Folks emigrated to England when I was\u2026 two, was it?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Over there. Now!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Waterville\u2019s my birthplace. Near the home of\u2026 what\u2019s his name\u2026 the Liberator.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018I said: over there!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Gaelic. Address him in that. Maybe it might convince him? Say something, anything. \u2018Se\u00e1n Kelleher is ainm dom.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The red face studied him like a pedigree judge at Crufts, before saying: \u2018C\u00e9n aois th\u00fa?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            What was his question? He must answer correctly. C\u00e9n<\/em>: did that mean \u2018what\u2019? Aois?<\/em> He\u2019d heard that before. \u2018Age\u2019, was it? What age are you? That what the fellow was asking? \u2018Forty-one,\u2019 Kelleher replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The man sighed, like he\u2019d lost a bet, nodded, and let him pass to the queue for the boat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018What\u2019s happening?\u2019 he asked a woman. \u2018I think my memory\u2019s banjaxed.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Europe\u2019s gone,\u2019 she said. \u2018Most of the world too.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Gone? What do you mean?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The woman didn\u2019t want to talk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Has Ireland gone? Or is it spared?\u2019 She wouldn\u2019t answer. \u2018Is this a ship of fools we\u2019re getting on?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            She turned to him, her pale features spectral, her gaunt cheeks little more than bones. She had the look of a messenger from beyond the grave. Was he in somebody else\u2019s story?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Are we saved or are damned? Nobody knows,\u2019 she said, then vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            There\u2019d been an explosion. He remembered it now, somewhere back on his journey, a huge bang. Hot dripping flesh, eyes that had popped out of skulls and were laying on the ground surveying him, screams, cries from mothers of, \u2018Take my child, look after her.\u2019 He\u2019d wanted to escape. Perhaps he\u2019d died, perhaps he was dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Behind him the mob was trying to tear down the barrier, shouting, \u2018Get us off this poisoned island! Save us!\u2019 Yes, he was dead. Surely?  <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Kelleher was struggling to remember. He\u2019d been walking for ages. Days? There\u2019d been a wide river, a bridge, cars strewn across it, some in flames. Or had he dreamt that? There\u2019d been towns, wrecked, as if a colossal foot had stamped on them. Fields, miles of them, just cinders. And his brain had just kept […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[597,676],"tags":[8,191,11],"class_list":["post-1390","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-597","category-oct-2022-the-visitor","tag-he","tag-there","tag-was"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-mq","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1390","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1390"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1390\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1392,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1390\/revisions\/1392"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1390"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1390"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1390"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}