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

calling the police, I will. Jerry Deane, come here,’ she shouted across the street and Jerry, not wanting any trouble, sprinted across the street.

‘What’s wrong, Gladys?’ Jerry asked. ‘What’s the problem?’

Gladys had her arms folded, her black hat was jammed down over her brow and in the light of the street lamp, the yellow glow made her look jaundiced. Her head was bent low, her shoulders jutted upwards like two wing nubs.

‘She looks like a bat,’ whispered little Paddy to Harry and both boys put their hands over their mouths to stifle their giggles.

‘I know what you’re doing here is illegal,’ she said. ‘Is Eric down there? Because if he is, I’m calling the police.’

Jerry’s head jerked back in surprise. ‘If he is?’

‘Aye, you heard me, is he?’

Jerry’s brow furrowed and, lifting his cap, he rubbed his hand across his hair. ‘What if he isn’t? Will you be calling the police then?’

Gladys snorted. ‘No, what you do is your affair. I’m not interested in you but if he’s helping, you’ll all cop it because if I have to walk into Whitechapel myself to do it, I’ll be fetching the police.’

Tommy looked over from the other side of the street. Everyone knew Gladys was trouble but no one really wanted to have to face her.

‘See that,’ said Tommy to Eugene, ‘that’s why Jerry will get the gaffer’s job; he’s a natural leader. He’d face Hitler, that man would.’

Eugene looked across to where Tommy was indicating. ‘To be honest, Tommy, I think most would rather face Hitler than Gladys – she’s a scold, that one.’

Jerry spoke to Gladys in his softest tone, his most conciliatory manner. ‘Gladys, honestly, I’ve no idea where Eric is. Is he not at home? Have you tried the Anchor?’

Jerry did not want to say that he had seen Eric in the Anchor earlier, that was a line men did not cross. No man had ever seen another in the pub when questioned.

‘I’ve been in there and that whore behind the bar with the ton of make-up on her face says she’s never seen him, so he must be here.’

Little Paddy shot out from round the back of Jerry’s legs. Harry grabbed his sleeve to try and stop him, but he was too late. ‘I’ve seen him,’ little Paddy called out. ‘He was kissing Mrs Trott in the entry.’

Harry’s statement stunned the onlookers.

‘Fecking hell,’ Tommy whispered.

‘That kid has a death wish,’ said Eugene.

‘And Eric is a dead man walking,’ said Seamus.

The air trembled as they all stared at Gladys.

‘You what?’ she roared at little Paddy, who no longer felt as confident as he had only seconds before and he said again, with a little less volume, ‘We saw him, didn’t we, Harry?’ He pulled Harry out from behind Jerry to stand next to him. ‘We saw him and he was kissing Mrs Trott.’

It looked to Paddy as though Gladys’s eyes were going to explode and then she said five words before she turned her back on all of them and marched back down the street. ‘He. Is. Dead. To. Me.’

*

Eric stood naked, peeping through the net curtains of Maggie Trott’s bedroom down into the street below. Maggie came and stood at his side and slipped under his arm.

‘If you are regretting this, Eric… don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I understand, you are a married man and one night really was enough for you.’

Eric pulled her into his side. ‘Good job you didn’t say just the once was enough,’ he said as he grinned down at her, ‘for you would already be a liar.’

Maggie laid her head on his shoulder. ‘But it’s an impossible situation, isn’t it?’

Eric took in a deep breath. ‘No, it isn’t. I’m not going to go back to my old life ever again. Even if you don’t want me, Maggie, I have to walk a new path. The old one was destroying me and I can’t go back.’

Eric led her back to the bed. ‘I’ll have to go,’ he said. ‘I have to collect the milk and load up the float and I have to face Gladys. I’m going to tell her everything and my guess is she will pack her bags and move to her sister’s on the Wirral. She’s been looking for an excuse to do that for years, anyway; all she wants is the money. I’ll tell her to take every penny we have and I’ll start over again.’ He tucked the covers in over Maggie’s shoulders.

‘Eric, if she doesn’t, put your bag on the float as well as the milk. You can move in here.’ Her heart raced; she had broken the spell of loneliness and she didn’t want to return to that life ever again. This big giant of a soft and gentle man was the one she wanted to be with.

‘What will they say on the street? I couldn’t bear to ruin your good name,’ he said.

Maggie smiled. ‘Eric, you were married to Gladys – they will be relieved for you, ’tis only the priest who will make life difficult. It’s not like I had to fight for my honour, is it?’

Eric looked down on her and smiled. ‘Maggie, as far as I am concerned, I was never married before God; according to the Holy Catholic Church, I’m probably still a single man.’

Maggie smiled, and freeing her arms from the bedclothes, reached up. ‘It just gets better and better,’ she said in the moment before his lips came down on hers.

*

Dr Cole left Kathleen’s house, smiling. The midwife had called him to check on mother and baby and little was said about the birth. The midwife, no stranger to the acts of desperation mothers were driven into in the face of extreme poverty, was just relieved that Peggy and the baby were still alive.

‘It’s grand to see you back home, Mrs Doherty,’ Dr Cole had said. ‘Mammy said she saw you in the hospital in Galway.’

Maura preened; having the doctor speak to you in the way Dr Cole just