‘How do you propose to get the ninepence out of them.’
‘This way. The foundry crowd take coal from Doggett & Co. Very well. The next time I’m told to deliver to the foundry, I’ll refuse.’
‘What good will that do?’ Hennessy asked. ‘They’ll only sack you.’
‘Not if everyone else in Doggett & Co. stands by me.’
‘They could get it from us,’ Pat said.
‘Not if the Nolan & Keyes men do the same thing,’ Mulhall said.
They thought over this. It sounded impracticable at first, but gradually its possibilities suggested themselves.
‘You stand by us—we stand by you?’ Pat said. He was beginning to consider the idea.
‘Simple,’ Mulhall said.
‘Suppose they sack someone,’ Pat offered. ‘Suppose a carter is told to deliver and he refuses and he’s sacked. What then?’
‘Everybody downs tools,’ Mulhall said.
‘We get some of the coal direct from our own boats in the foundry,’ Fitz pointed out.
‘When they start doing that we’ll call on your fellows not to unload,’ Mulhall said.
‘You’d have the whole bloody city tied up in a week, at that rate,’ Pat put in worried.
‘Why not?’ Mulhall urged. ‘That’s what they did in Belfast.’
‘For three shillings?’ Hennessy asked, sceptical.
Farrell banged the table suddenly and roared at him.
‘For principle.’
His face had become thunderous. Hennessy shrank back.
‘No offence,’ he said, in a startled voice.
‘That’s what’s wrong with this city,’ Farrell said. ‘There isn’t a man of principle in it. I was steady on the quays until I refused to buy the stevedore a drink when he brought us into his brother’s pub to pay us. And I haven’t got a job on the quays since.’
Fitz put his hand on Farrell’s shoulder.
‘What Hennessy says makes sense,’ he said. ‘The issue is only three shillings for about twelve hands. No union would tie up a whole dockside for that.’
‘Larkin would. We have an agreement,’ Mulhall insisted.
‘With the carting firms, but not with the foundry.’
‘Larkin fixed the carters’ rate. It applies to everybody.’
‘Larkin might risk tying up the docks the way you suggest,’ Fitz said, ‘but Sexton and the British Executive won’t. It’s too costly.’
‘If Larkin agrees to do it,’ Mulhall said, ‘I don’t care a damn what the Executive says or thinks. And I’m going to see him about it tomorrow when we knock off.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ Pat said.
‘What about you?’ Mulhall asked Fitz.
Pat said: ‘Fitz can’t. He’s on shift work tomorrow.’
‘You can tell him we’ll stand by you if we’re needed,’ Fitz said, ‘but it’s mad.’
‘That’s the stuff,’ Mulhall said, satisfied.
‘What about you?’ Pat asked Hennessy.
Hennessy sighed and said:
‘The unfortunate fact is that I’ve never been in any job long enough to join a union.’
The voice of a singer drifted in through the closed doors, a hard yet tuneful sound, which distracted Mulhall’s attention.
‘I know who that is,’ he said.
A shadow appeared on the glass, fumbled with the knob and shuffled in. It was Rashers. He blinked in the light. The dog beside him gave a short bark, recognising Mulhall before Rashers did.
‘Are you looking for money or drink?’ Mulhall asked.
‘Either or both,’ Rashers said, agreeably.
The damp air had condensed on his beard and made his rags smell. Mulhall introduced him and invited him to sit down. Rashers did so gratefully.
‘What brings you round this way?’ Hennessy asked.
‘Money or drink,’ Rashers said. Mulhall bought a pint for him and Rashers shook sawdust from a saucer spittoon and poured some of the drink into it for the dog. The dog lapped greedily. Rashers drank to the company.
‘Here’s my special blessing to you,’ he said.
‘Take the porter but keep the blessing,’ Mulhall said. ‘God knows what way a blessing from Rashers Tierney would work.’
‘Have the blessing,’ Rashers said, ‘There’s great virtue in it today.’ He put his pint down and addressed them generally.
‘I had the height of luck today. A young clergyman gave me a shilling. So I had a feed of soup and spuds in the St. Francis Dining Hall, and a cup of cocoa with a cut of bread. I could hardly waddle from there to here.’
He fumbled under his coat.
‘Any one of you gentlemen want to see today’s paper?’
Hennessy held out his hand.
‘Where did you get that?’
‘In one of the bins.’
‘It’s escaped the weather,’ Hennessy said, turning over the pages critically and noting that they were crisp and dry.
‘This was a very classy kind of bin, with a lid on it. And so big you’d be able to take shelter from the rain in it. That’s what I said to the priest who gave me the shilling.’
Hennessy, who had put on his spectacles, now lowered the paper and said to the company:
‘It says here there’s a thousand pounds reward for anyone who gives information or finds the Crown Jewels.’
Mulhall said:
‘Now we know why Rashers spends his days looking in dustbins.’
‘I’ll give you another bit of information to save you the trouble of reading it,’ Rashers said. ‘There’ll be no more paying in pubs.’
He found he had drawn the full attention of the company. Hennessy lowered the paper; Mulhall put down his drink; Fitz looked first at Rashers and then at Farrell. Farrell leaned across the table.
‘What was that?’ he asked.
Surprised at the interest he had aroused, Rashers explained.
‘The shipowners agreed with Larkin last night to bar the stevedores from paying the dockers in public houses.’
Everybody looked at Farrell.
‘You ought to slip down to the hall,’ Mulhall said.
‘I’d do it right away,’ Pat urged.
There was a great happiness in Mulhall’s face. He had not expected that the belief he expressed in Larkin would be so quickly justified. Farrell rose uncertainly.
‘If you’ll excuse me . . .’ he began.
He was torn between the importance of the news and the fact that he was proposing to leave before taking his turn to buy the company a drink.
‘Go on,’ Fitz urged, ‘don’t be standing on ceremony.’
Farrell went, and Rashers, staring after him and scratching his head, asked:
‘What the hell have I done on your friend?’
‘You’ve earned your pint, Rashers,’ Mulhall answered.
Fitz smiled. He, too, felt the stirring of a new, slightly incredulous hope.
Hennessy and Rashers were the last to leave. They were both unsteady. At Chandlers Court Rashers sat down on the wet steps, cleared his throat and began to sing. Hennessy remembered his wife.
‘For God’s sake—stop it,’ he appealed.
‘All right,’ Rashers agreed, ‘but sit down beside me and we’ll have a chat.’
‘I daren’t—not with this rheumatism.’
‘I’ve offered you the cure.’
‘I’m not giving you tuppence. I’ve spent more than enough already.’
‘Please yourself. There’s many a carter will be glad to get a good ’cello string for tuppence.’ A thought struck Rashers.
‘Who was the young fellow that was with us?’
‘The dark young fellow?’
‘Certainly,’ Rashers said.
‘Fitzpatrick. He’s thinking of tying the knot.’
‘Ah. Getting married. It’s a contagious notion between two opposites.’
‘He works in the foundry.’
‘He stood me a pint, so God give him luck.’
‘And do you know where he hopes to live?’
‘Tell me.’