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

from the street lamp outside. She knew the room well, had once stood at that window with a newly born little Paddy in her arms as she rocked him and watched as big Paddy and Tommy made their way down Nelson Street to the Anchor, to wet the baby’s head. Her eyes adjusted and she looked down to the floor and could make out a grey bundle where Peggy’s bloodstained clothes lay. As she bent to pick them up, a metallic smell filled the air and she reeled backwards.

‘Oh Peggy! What in God’s name is this?’

All manner of things that could have gone wrong ran through her head. After all, the worst that possibly could happen to anyone had happened in Maura’s life. She heard a noise coming from the children’s room and, dropping the clothes and in a state of shock, crossed the landing and opened the door. There was no borrowed light in the back room and she stood in the doorway, her ears and eyes straining. Then she heard it again, a mewing, a weak cry. Her heart stopped.

‘Paddy,’ she shouted down the stairs, ‘where is your rat?’

Paddy’s face appeared at the bottom framed in the stairwell in the only light in the house, from the kitchen. ‘He’s here, Auntie Maura,’ he said as he held him up.

Maura heard the noise again. ‘Paddy, do you have more than one rat?’

‘No, Auntie Maura.’

‘Where’s Scamp?’

For the first time little Paddy was stumped for an answer. ‘He was here, in the kitchen. He’s probably out looking for rats to kill. The only one he likes is Max.’

The noise came again and Maura stepped into the room as the boys began to mount the stairs. It was coming from under the boys’ bed and they were all sleeping soundly on the top of the mattress, despite only having a coat to cover them. The sound came again; it was weak and thready, a wail, a cry for attention. Maura dropped to her knees and there, sticking out from the corner of the bed, was a drawer from the press in Peggy’s room. Maura knew that drawer and what it had been used for seven times before. She reached under the bed and pulled it out. She could just about make out the form of a baby.

‘Oh, Holy Mary Mother of God,’ said Maura as she scooped the child up into her arms, ‘by all the angels in heaven… Peggy, what have you done?’

*

Stella tottered down the gangplank of the Morry and almost fell over a number of times on her high heels as she made her way over to her friend, Betty, who appeared to be holding prisoner a woman who was looking very sorry for herself.

‘What do you want here then, love?’ she said as she drew closer.

Betty folded her arms. ‘Our business, that’s what she’s after. Tell her, Stella, she can’t just come down here and take our jobs, can she?’

Stella looked Peggy up and down and what she saw was a woman in extreme distress. She looked over at Betty. ‘If you had been born with a brain, Betty, you would be dangerous, you know that, don’t you?’

Betty looked very put out as she struggled to work out what it was that Stella actually meant and Stella spoke to Peggy again. ‘Didn’t I see you before, love? With a pramload of stuff, heading towards the pawnshop? I saw you again coming out, didn’t I, the pram empty? You on hard times, are you?’

Peggy nodded her head. Even in front of women who sold their honour for a living, she felt ashamed.

‘Oh bloody hell, we even have a dog down here now!’ exclaimed Betty as Scamp appeared, slowly edging his way towards Peggy, softly growling.

‘Is that your dog?’ asked Stella.

Peggy nodded. For the second time in her life, she felt as though she were about to faint. Her nipples tingled sharply, her daughter was calling her… The water was so close, if only she could escape…

‘Can I just go? I don’t want your business,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to cause any bother.’

‘No, you cannot,’ said Betty.

‘Shut up, Betty!’ said Stella. ‘There’s no one on the Morry anyway, now. No business to be had. So you go on, love, you do whatever you were doing, walking your dog, or whatever it is you are down here for. We’ve all been there, but there’s no business to be had tonight. We’ve all known hard times, love – why do you think we do what we do?’

‘Ooer, Stella, speak for yourself! I’ve never looked as bad as that. And have you lost your marbles or what? Just letting her go like that? Jeez, it’s tough enough as it is. I’ve only had one turn and Fred won’t like it when I tell him.’

Stella turned her full gaze on Betty. ‘Fred won’t know, Betty, because if he does, you will be the only person who could have told him – and you will regret that very much, do you understand? I’m still the queen bee around here and you had better remember that.’

Betty’s face flushed and she looked very put out. Scamp sidled up to Peggy, his eyes never leaving the two women, his lips pulled back, his teeth exposed, a low, constant growl coming from his throat.

Stella said in a lower voice, ‘There but for the grace of God, Betty.’

Peggy took a step, but it was difficult; she was losing blood. She took another as Scamp brushed up against her leg and he whined and looked up at her, his ears down, his eyes asking her a million questions. A dozen more steps and she would be at the water’s edge. She heard the clippety-clop of two pairs of stilettos walk towards the next dock, and Stella’s voice carried to her on the air, cutting off Betty’s grumblings mid flow.

‘Leave her alone, Betty. She doesn’t have a pair of shoes to her name, God love her. That could be us