Coming Home to the Four Streets by Nadine Dorries (books that read to you .txt) 📗

‘We have one too,’ he said. ‘I’m not a man for the reading, though, I’ll leave that to Maeve when I get back to the farm.’

Maura didn’t question him further. She had no desire to embarrass him into owning up that he could read no better than Tommy. ‘I’ll wait until tonight to open ours. Tommy and I like to read them together,’ she said. ‘I’m so delighted there’s one from Peggy next door – to think she was that organised to go to the post office and buy the airmail letter and then to even go back and post it. Peggy is obviously getting her act together now that I’ve gone and so, I suppose, every cloud does have a silver lining – because, God, she needed to.’

‘Even we hear about Peggy in our letters from Kathleen,’ said Liam. ‘Kathleen says she feels sorry for the kids.’

Maura sighed as the smile slipped from her face. ‘I do miss those kids, especially little Paddy, and I do worry. I suppose the nuns or Kathleen will tell me if I’ve anything serious to be worrying about though, isn’t that right?’

Liam nodded sagely. ‘You haven’t really settled here, have you, Maura?’

Liam dropped a gear and turned onto the narrow road which led to the coastal village. It was more of a statement than a question and it caught her off guard. The last of the daylight clung on stubbornly as the ocean roared to the left and the moon began to rise over the Nephin Beg and made ghosts of the mountains before them. The road ahead held another half hour of travel before they reached their destination.

‘Why would you say that, Liam? Have people been talking? Have I not been putting on a good enough show? Jesus, why would I not settle? It’s such a joy to wait on those miserable bastards all afternoon and evening.’

Liam roared with laughter. ‘I’ve heard that you haven’t exactly been making best friends with the locals. You’ll have to forgive them, Maura, it’s a man they are used to have running things, so you will have taken them by surprise, that’s all.’

‘Jesus, it’s because I’m a woman, is it? It’s their wives I would pity, if I didn’t know they send their miserable bloody husbands down to me in the pub, to get them out of their way.’

‘Maura, they are the men who keep handing you their money over the bar; you should be delighted their wives kick them out of the cottages. What would you be doing without them? You know, I wish your Tommy had spoken to me before you spent every flaming penny on that place. I’m not sure if you will ever get your money back – but you shouldn’t bite the hands that are feeding you right now.’

Maura sniffed and pulled her handbag closer into her for comfort. ‘I wish he had too. Get our money back, that would be a fine thing. Have you seen how many cottages are standing empty? Everyone is leaving. We’re the only soft buggers that came back – and spent a fortune doing it. And it isn’t just that place; I’ve gone backwards in so many other ways too. I miss the four streets, Liam. The people, the shops, the carrying on.’

Liam crunched the gears and the engine screamed out. Maura wondered would the old van make it. ‘The carrying on?’ Liam glanced at her with a puzzled expression.

‘Yes, the carrying on. There’s always something happening – and the bingo, God, I really miss the bingo. I was good at winning, often had the luck with me but I was never greedy, mind.’ She sighed and, absent-minded, her hands patted the envelopes in her pocket, as if to reassure herself that she was closer to the four streets, just by touching them.

‘The kids are happy though?’ said Liam.

Maura snorted. ‘I don’t know, I daren’t ask,’ she said as her mind scrambled to remember the last time she saw her children laugh.

She was keen to change the subject. She knew she really should have said: no, the kids are as miserable as sin and when Liam probed her feelings, as he was doing now, the fact that Tommy had spent every penny on the rundown inn made her feel sick to the pit of her stomach.

‘Maeve asked me to tell you she’s expecting you and Tommy and the kids over on Sunday after mass and the kids always seem to have a grand time when they come to the farm.’

Maura smiled at the memory of their Sundays, their only day off. As soon as everyone was up, they headed over to Ballynevin for mass, avoiding the church next to the inn, and after, walked back to the farm with Liam and Maeve.

‘That’s it! That’s when the kids laugh,’ she said to Liam. ‘When we come to the farm. It’s the best bit of our week, Liam, and whatever the weather, the kids have a blast. Harry is beside himself that you are taking him out for the salmon again when the summer holidays come.’

Liam laughed. ‘Angela insists she’s coming too. I’ve told them, they can hold the landing net.’

‘I don’t think our Harry will be holding anything for a while; that Mr Cleary, he took the stick to our Harry the other day and you should see the state of his hands. He ripped the skin raw, he did.’

‘Mr Cleary, you say? Aye, well, sure enough, I know what that feels like all right. He’s been teaching the kids around here for as long as I can remember; the Christian Brothers brought him with them when they came from Dublin. They thought we were all peasants and they would need protecting.’ Liam laughed at the memory. ‘Anyways, it will only have been for Harry’s own good. It did me no harm when he took the stick to me.’

Maura turned to look at Liam. She wanted to