One morning, shortly after getting the information in the library in 2009, she went out for her usual walk in the countryside, now walking four and sometimes six miles a day alone as she processed all that was happening. This particular morning, Mary had just reached where the loop started when a young man appeared beside her, and she immediately knew who he was even though there was no-one there!
He spoke to her through her thoughts as Gary always did. He was asking for her help. She couldn’t believe it and was so nervous she burst out laughing. It was the young policeman.
She ignored him. How dare he ask me for help, she thought, walking faster, hoping to shake him off, feeling the rage rise in her as he continued beside her in silence. She continued to ignore him until she could no longer stand the silence.
‘Why would I want to help you and what help do you want?’ she asked sharply.
He didn’t get a chance to answer as she continued, ‘You know that my whole life changed because of you, that I was tortured because of you, that I lost my family, my friends, my community and had to leave the country because of you … You know you were so much luckier than me … You got to die. I had to live with what your comrades did to me; I had to carry the wounds everywhere I went. I still carry them.’ As the tears flowed down her face she continued, ‘Do you have any idea how many times I wished that I had died that day, that I wouldn’t have had to go through all of this? Now you dare ask me for help. Her entire body was shaking as she crossed the railway line to continue the walk.’
I was to die; you were to live, he replied softly.
Allowing the tears to continue, she kept on walking the deserted back roads outside the small town where she had hidden herself and her past for over twenty-five years and he continued walking beside her.
Anger rose from her chest up into her throat as she started to talk again, talking about all the little details that she had locked away and told no-one. He listened in silence as she unburdened herself of the secrets she had been carrying.
We watched with interest, wondering what she would do next. Would she ignore him after saying her piece or had she reached a place where she would do what she could to help him? Had she really understood that this was both of their journeys and there was nothing either could have done to change anything? Had she reached a place where she would actually help someone who she considered the enemy?
When she got back to where she had first encountered him, Mary stopped for a moment before saying, ‘I will help you if I can but I have no idea how.’
Without a word, he disappeared.
Immediately she started to ask questions of people who she thought might understand, starting with Dave.
‘He is probably stuck and needs help to move on,’ he said.
‘And how do I do that?’
‘I have no idea. I have never done it, but you will find the right person to help when the time is right.’
She asked others she thought might know, but no-one did, so she left it and said no more.
Then one morning shortly after, her sister called and said, ‘Mary, I need to tell you something, a friend of mine needs help and I know you understand this stuff. My friend’s daughter’s boyfriend was driving through Armagh the other night and got lost. He knew the road well but was drawn down a different road and couldn’t stop. He got to a corner and there was a cross at the side of the road and a man was standing at the cross. He slowed down but the man started running. He drove slowly behind him but hit him. The man came through the windscreen of the car but the windscreen wasn’t broken and he wasn’t in the car! He was completely distraught. Still is. My friend said she would have found this hard to believe but this young fella doesn’t drink! They checked the cross and found the young man’s picture who had been killed there but it wasn’t him. A few weeks later, her daughter and him were watching the news and it was the thirtieth anniversary of the of the eighteen British soldiers killed at Warrenpoint. They showed their photos, and he recognised one of them as the man he had seen. They don’t know what to do. What do you think he wants?’
‘To be moved on, I guess,’ Mary said and then told her sister about the policeman.
This latest revelation renewed her efforts to find someone to help the policeman as she was delighted that she wasn’t the only one who experienced these things. When she found someone to help, she would give their name to her sister’s friends so that everyone could find peace, including herself.