Colum
Sometimes I wonder if maybe I had done things differently Bridget wouldn't have left. Was I wrong to try to take care of her so much? Should I have just let her stay out at all hours of the night with those stupid gobshite boys? Or maybe it doesn't matter what I did. She would have had her own way and hated me for it no matter what I said or did . . .
We had very little reason to get along that last year. When I decided I would like to go into seminary after school and become a priest, I confided in her. It was a stupid thing to do, wasn't it? Looking back, I don't know why I told her at all. I should have known better. It was important to me, and she laughed. She's done a lot of things to hurt me, but none quite so bad as that. It was the last time I brought it up to her. Oh, she mentioned it plenty of times. She loved to tease me about it, but it was never because I gave her the opportunity.
Then there was Patrick. I don't know why she want after the older boys, or why they couldn't just leave her alone and go after girls their own age. I think she knew I didn't like him, and it just amusedher. She loved to get under my skin, didn't she? But this one . . . well, he was just trouble, wasn't he?
We fought over him a lot. He was no good, I was sure of that, and she refused to stop dating anyone just because I didn't like them. Most of the fights weren't any different than with any of the other boys she went out with, but then I foun out about the guns. Word travels fast in Donegal, and I did not appreciate anyone acquainting my sister with deadly weapons. That was quite the row. We didn't yell at each other for very long though, because Bridget locked herself in her room.
After that was the strange part, because from then on she was just a perfect angel, wasn't she? I didn't understand it at all. Sometimes I eve wondered what motive she had for behaving that way, but I knew that I didn't want to risk a fight by confronting her.
So for a few months I had back the sweet, adoring little sister I thought I'd lost in Belfast. And then fall came and Bridget disappeared. She didn't say good-bye, didn't leave a note, didn't even call. She was just gone. For once, no one had any idea what the girl was up to. I even tracked down Patrick's number in Salaise, and he swore he hadn't seen her. He was lying, of course. I knew it even then. But I didn't know what to do and Uncle Dermot was no help at all. And then Aunt Maggie caught wind of what was happening and she flew straight to Ireland. Oh, she was angry. She yelled at the both of us, Dermot and I, and said she should have taken Bridget with her years ago. I'm still not sure how she turned it around on me like that, but she did. At least I know where Bridget gets it from now, don't I?
Aunt Maggie did all she could to find Bridget, but none of us had any luck. We weren't detectives and short of hiring one we didn't see any solution but to leave it to the local police. And when they were no help, I called Patrick again and threatened him within an inch of his life if he didn't tell me where my sister was. All that did was make Bridget angry. And didn't herself call and let us know just what she thought of it? It was a good thing there was a large body of water between us, I'm sure of that.