Hide Her Name (33 page)

‘That Tommy’s been acting like a mental bastard, threatening to bash McGinty’s face in and giving pies to their Brian. The man has never in his life even taken a belt to his own kids, so he hasn’t,’ the men would say down in the Anchor.

‘Angela Doherty has never stopped giving out about how she has to work now that their Kitty has done a moonlight flit,’ the kids would say in the classroom.

And on it would go. Gossip, which would lead someone somewhere to jump to a conclusion.

‘Would ye like a cuppa tea, Tommy?’ asked Jerry as he rose from the chair. Tommy looked exhausted.

‘Aye, thanks, Jer, I will. If I leave them little buggers long enough, they’ll kill each other before I get back and that’ll make things a bit easier in the morning.’ They both laughed.

But not quite as much as they once might have done. Jokes about killing people sounded strangely hollow.

‘I’m taking Joseph up,’ said Alice, walking over to the fire with Joseph on her hip and his bottle in her hand. Joseph leant his head on Alice’s shoulder and sucked his thumb noisily, half smiling at Jerry and Tommy.

‘Say goodnight to Da and Uncle Tommy,’ said Alice.

Joseph leant forward and bent down for another kiss from Tommy. Then he stretched out his arms to Jerry, who cuddled him and kissed his cheek.

‘Night, night, little man. See ye in the morning for breakfast,’ said Jerry, bathing his son in the most loving of smiles.

‘I can’t imagine what it must be like with only the little fella,’ said Tommy. ‘Me and Maura, we love our kids, make no mistake, but this week, Jerry, God, I’ll tell ye this, I never knew my missus worked so hard, so I didn’t, an’ I never realized how much our Kitty did either. If Maura wasn’t coming home tomorrow, I don’t know how much longer I could cope. I’ve burnt the bloody letter from the nuns, complaining about Declan going to school with his ears blocked up with pobs. Jeez, Maura would have a fit if she saw that.’

He looked up at Jerry and, after a moment’s hesitation, they both began to laugh as they imagined the sight of Declan with a bowl of pobs on his head.

The men sat and drank their tea, their anxiety gradually draining away. Once Tommy’s mug was empty, he walked to the door to pick up his coat and said, ‘Well, Jerry, I feel a million times better than I did when I arrived, so I do, and now I’m off to knock all their bleedin’ heads together and get them into bed.’

The back door was closing and Tommy departing just as Alice returned to the kitchen.

Jerry was still grinning at the thought of Declan’s ears being blocked with pobs as he grabbed Alice round the waist and pulled her to him.

‘I think it’s about time we went to bed and got an early night, don’t ye think? We haven’t had a chance yet to enjoy it, just being us in the house.’

‘You go up and I will follow when I’ve cleared Joseph’s bath things away.’

‘I don’t think so, Mrs Deane. Do ye realize, this is the last time we will have the house to ourselves before Kathleen and Nellie come back tomorrow? I think we should get in that bed now and make the most of it, don’t you?’

As Alice walked up the stairs ahead of him, she realized this must be the last time. She would have slept with two men in two days, which was a recipe for disaster. As Jerry undid the buttons on the back of her dress and slipped his hands inside and cupped her breasts, she closed her eyes as a thrill of wickedness shot through her. She imagined it was Sean not Jerry who was caressing her. She focused her mind on Jerry’s hands, which became Sean’s, and the pleasure she felt as they roamed.

She either had to stop seeing Sean, or leave Jerry, she knew that, but for now, she would enjoy tonight knowing that when the morning came, she would have no idea which one she would choose.

The following morning, Harry popped his head round the kitchen door. ‘I’ve left the babby in the pram by the outhouse, Auntie Alice.’

‘Thank you, Harry,’ Alice replied quickly, so that he could hear her before he closed the door.

From the sink, Alice watched Harry, serious little Harry, with his purposeful walk and his head slightly bent. As he reached the pram, he straightened his cap and then lifted his green canvas army bag from the pram apron. He gave the pram handlebars a quick wiggle and slipped though the gate. As he closed the gate behind him, he saw Alice at the sink and gave her a smile before the latch clicked.

The Silver Cross pram bounced up and down in a gentle rhythm famous for sending babies to sleep within seconds.

The baby must be restless, thought Alice. She looked at Joseph, who had drifted back to sleep a half-hour since, and slipped into the yard. She pulled back the fly net and there was the baby with eyes wide open, blowing bubbles.

‘You little tinker,’ said Alice, smiling. ‘Your mammy will be back later. Back to sleep now, or I’ll be having a word with your daddy when he gets home from work. I have things to do today, miss.’

At that moment, Mrs Keating walked in through the gate, followed by a young woman Alice had never seen before.

‘Morning, Alice,’ said Mrs Keating, ‘this is my niece from Cork, Finoula. She is staying with me while she writes after jobs. She’s trying for work looking after babies, so she is, and I thought that, as Maura is away, she could get some practice in with the babby and could be a grand help to ye, an’ all?’

Alice noticed that Finoula’s hair was an unusual colour for an Irish girl. It was strawberry blonde, instead of flaming red or black. There were usually no in betweens; the Irish were one or the other.

‘Well, that would be fine by me and I’m sure Maura wouldn’t mind,’ said Alice. ‘But we are expecting Maura back tonight and I’m sure she will want the baby all to herself. You know what Maura is like. Would you like a cup of tea?’

For the first time in her life, Alice reached for the mop and banged on the kitchen wall for Peggy to come and join them. A visitor to the street was news.

Alice was becoming more Irish by the day.

Within half an hour, the kitchen was full. It was hard for Alice to concentrate on what the women were saying and she was glad that the conversation focused on Finoula, who was answering a barrage of questions about the news in Ireland.

Peggy had knocked on for Sheila and Deirdre. Alice began to understand that it was a very different gathering without Kathleen and Maura.

Her thoughts were wandering above the babble, not to last night with Jerry, but to the hotel, with Sean. As she remembered every second, a thrill of intense excitement shot through the pit of her stomach.

Where was Sean now? she wondered. Was he at work?

Brigid arrived at the back door with Mrs McGuire. Alice’s heart sank. She had been avoiding them, not wanting to face either wife or mother.

The women round the table chorused, ‘Brigid, Mrs McGuire, come on in, sit down for a cuppa.’

Alice felt resentful. She couldn’t help it. She was uncomfortable with people treating her kitchen as though it were their own.

Peggy jumped up. ‘I’ll go and fetch a couple of chairs from mine,’ she said. Then, ‘Holy Mary,’ she shouted from the yard, ‘there are so many prams out here, I can hardly get back to me own house.’

‘Shall I put the kettle back on, Alice?’ asked Sheila, who didn’t feel entirely comfortable doing so without asking first. She wouldn’t have thought twice had Kathleen been there.

‘Yes, of course,’ said Alice, dragging her thoughts away from Sean. She could not erase him from her mind and she could not for the life of her stop thinking about their lovemaking. Was it really so different from what had happened with Jerry last night, she asked herself? No, it wasn’t. And then, with the force of a train, it hit her.

She enjoyed sex with both men, but only one man dominated her thoughts to the point of distraction.

She was in love. She must be.

The laughter and the babble of the women faded. She had never felt like this before. She had thought of Jerry constantly, from the day she met him, but not like this. That was an obsession. This was love. There was an enormous difference. This made her feel happy and joyous, while her obsession with Jerry had made her reclusive and anxious, devious and mean. She had been cruel to Nellie and resentful, and she had made Jerry’s life a misery.

God, I was a sick person, Alice thought to herself and, for a second, the sadness of the life she had led, and the person she had been, clouded her thoughts of Sean.

What am I going to do? she asked herself. What a bloody mess. What is the right thing to do?

‘A penny for your thoughts,’ said Finoula, sitting next to her.

‘Oh, gosh. You don’t want to know what my thoughts are,’ laughed Alice. ‘Even I can’t work them out.’

She heard the dock klaxon sound as she finished washing the kitchen floor.

Jerry was working an extra half-shift, because the bar was full. Ships were waiting for a pilot to bring them into a berth. The pressure was on to unload as quickly as possible.

Finoula had taken both the baby and Joseph back to Mrs Keating’s in the same pram. She had offered to feed them and take them for a walk. Alice was grateful for the break.

She loved her freedom and she wanted, more than anything, to be alone with her thoughts. To have space to dwell and think, without any interruption, about Sean and the time they had spent together.

At what point had she fallen in love with him? She had no idea, but she did know that, right now, her heart ached to see him.

As though she had willed him into her presence, the back door opened and Sean walked in. He looked round the kitchen. ‘Are ye alone?’ he asked.

‘I am, yes.’

Within seconds they were in each other’s arms. Within minutes, Sean had lifted her skirt up to her waist, and his hands, wild to feel every inch of her, were all over her body, down the tops of her stockings, across her back and over her breasts, seemingly at the same time. As he entered her, he had only one reckless thought: that he desperately, beyond any notion of reason, wanted either Brigid or Jerry to walk in at that very moment and catch them both – just as he claimed Alice as his very own.

There was no school for little Paddy. It wasn’t his turn for the shoes. He was watching
The Flowerpot Men
on the black-and-white television when Peggy shouted to him, ‘Paddy, go and get my kitchen chairs, there are two of them in Alice’s backyard next to the gate. Go on now, do as I say.’

Little Paddy groaned.

Scamp sat up and looked at Little Paddy keenly, wagging his tail.

He placed his paw on Paddy’s back and whined.

‘OK, OK, I’m coming,’ said Little Paddy, jumping up. ‘Mam, I have no shoes to put on, so how can I?’ he grumbled.

‘Here, put my slippers on,’ said Peggy, slapping margarine on the bread and then scraping it off again, for the meat paste sandwiches they would have for their lunch. Little Paddy wasn’t the only one not at school; there were four of them watching TV, but he was the only one that Peggy and Big Paddy ever sent to run a message.

Peggy kicked off her slippers, the only footwear she possessed, and slid them across the floor to Little Paddy.

‘Here ye are,’ she said. ‘Butties ready when ye come in with the chairs.’

The damp slippers were dirty and even Little Paddy could tell that they stank. He screwed up his face as he slipped them onto his feet.

Scamp ran ahead of him to Alice’s back door. Scamp loved Kathleen, who, like Brigid, always saved him stock bones and strips of bacon rind.

Little Paddy found the chairs next to the outhouse and began to carry them both to the gate.

‘Come on, Scamp,’ he said.

Scamp stood with his back to Little Paddy, looking up at the closed back door, wagging his tail furiously.

‘Come on, Scamp,’ shouted Little Paddy again, this time impatiently. It had been raining and the damp was soaking through the holes in Peggy’s slippers, making his feet cold and wet.

He put down one of the chairs as he lifted the gate latch. Pulling the gate wide open, he leant against it as he attempted to pick up the chair and struggle through.

‘Scamp,’ he shouted again, angrily. The chairs were difficult to carry and he didn’t want to have to put them down again.

Little Paddy looked up towards the kitchen window, to see if anyone had noticed him taking the chairs.

What he saw made him so scared, his knees felt weak.

Little Paddy went white and hissed under his breath as loudly as he could, ‘Scamp, get here now, ye fecking eejit dog.’

Just at that moment, Scamp, growing impatient, scratched at the back door and barked loudly.

Paddy looked back to the window, but no one indoors had heard. Paddy saw that Alice’s breasts were bare and that she was pulling her dress back over her shoulders. And Sean McGuire was helping her.

‘Oh, fecking hell, I’m dead,’ groaned Little Paddy, putting his hand over his eyes.

21

I
T WAS ALMOST
midnight when Maura and Kathleen turned the corner of Nelson Street. They froze with astonishment at the sight that greeted them.

There was not a family in bed on any of the four streets.

Every parlour light was switched on. Front doors stood partially open, as light bled out onto the pavement. Children and women stood in the shadows, in huddles, whispering, and the men, having hurriedly left the lock-in at the pub, stood silently at the opposite end of the street, pint glasses still in hand.

As Maura and Kathleen stepped into the circle of street light, everyone turned to look at them. For a moment, frantic, panicky thoughts whirled through Maura’s brain. She imagined her neighbours knew the truth about Kitty and were waiting for her, to scold and shout at her, to wag their fingers and to chase her off the street.

‘
Where have you taken your whore daughter then, eh? What have you done with her? Ye all so high and mighty and ye can’t even teach yer own daughter to keep her knickers up.’

Kathleen took Nellie’s hand and gently drew her close. Kathleen sensed danger and death running hand in hand, wild on the wind.

Maura’s panic gave way to alarm when she spotted a large Black Maria police van outside Molly Barrett’s house. Three more blue and white panda cars were parked in front of the Black Maria. A man with a camera in his hand stood on the opposite pavement.