Fallon smiled. Ive one or two of my own. Reliable ones from the old days. He stood up and moved across to the window and looked out into the night.
When will you go? OHara asked.
Fallon lit another cigarette. In an hour or so. Ill cross the border before morning. I can catch the milk train for Castlemore at Carlington. He moved back to the fire and said, Ill give myself three days at the outside. If we get away with it Ill bring him straight here. No sense in getting him arrested on this side and put in that fine new detention camp theyve got. OHara nodded and Fallon sighed and said, Ive been happy here, OHara. Happy for the first time in my life. If I ever get the chance Ill pay you back for doing this to me.
OHara half-smiled and shook his head. No you wont, he said. Youre not the sort. Besides, youve never been happy here. His eyes challenged Fallon calmly, surely, and Fallon suddenly knew that what the old man said was true.
He threw his cigarette into the fire and left the room. He quietly opened the bedroom door and went in. Mrs Rogan slept peacefully, her face calm and tranquil in the lamplight. Fallon opened a wardrobe and taking out a tweed suit, changed quickly. When he was ready, he took a battered rain hat and an old trench coat from a hook behind the door. For a moment he stood at the bedside looking down at the sleeping woman and then he turned down the lamp and moved to the window.
A bare half-mile away through the darkness was the border. Within a few hours be would be in great danger. The rain hammered endlessly on the glass and the wind called to him as it moaned through the trees. A sudden spark of excitement moved within him. He smiled softly in the darkness and turned and quietly left the room.