The Four Streets Saga

by Nadine Dorries

  ‘Can we go to the field now, Maeve?’ the girls shouted through the back door when they had finished.

  ‘Aye, off you go and help Uncle Liam and the others and, mind, keep yer hands off them lads,’ said Maeve with a wink at Nellie, who blushed bright red.

  And off they ran to catch up with Patrick who was supervising the building of the straw stacks.

  ‘Can we help, Patrick?’ said Nellie.

  ‘Not with this. I have enough lads. I have to round off the tops so that the rain runs off and doesn’t wet the straw.’

  ‘What shall we do then?’ Nellie was jumping up and down by now, almost taking his pitchfork out of his hand.

  ‘Aye, go on, then,’ he said, handing Nellie the fork. ‘Gather up the straw from the thresher and pile it up onto the cart Jacko is harnessed up to. The cart will be moving over here in a few minutes. I see yer man, Aengus, is talking to Kitty, then?’

  Nellie looked over and saw the McMahons’ nephew had stopped work and was chatting to Kitty.

  Aengus had spotted Kitty as she ran into the field. He rested on his pitchfork and thought that he had never seen a young girl look so happy.

  ‘Morning, miss,’ said Aengus, raising his cap as soon as he was within earshot of Kitty.

  While Nellie had run on ahead to talk to Patrick, Kitty had stopped to tie her bootlace and was squatting down amid the freshly cut stalks.

  ‘So, how do ye like Bangor then?’

  Kitty straightened and squinted in the sunlight, her hair loose and hanging about her shoulders. His accent was so strong that she could hardly understand a word he said.

  ‘’Scuse me,’ said Kitty. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not from round here.’

  ‘I know,’ said Aengus. ‘That’s why I’m asking, how do ye like it in Bangor?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Kitty, laughing sheepishly, ‘you mean Bangornevin?’

  ‘Aye, I do, but no one ever says the Nevin. Unless ye are visiting from Liverpool, of course, and then ye would be daft enough to say it.’

  He was teasing Kitty and grinned as he spoke.

  Kitty half grinned back and looked down, as though studying the freshly cut field. The smell of the fresh straw made her nostrils flare. The grain dust shone like gold splinters in the shimmering sunlight and, once again, she had need to shield her eyes as her fingers intertwined into an arch above her brow.

  ‘What’s ye name then?’ he asked.

  He had replaced his cap and was leaning forward with both hands on the top of his pitchfork. He swayed gently from side to side as he studied her face, waiting for a response.

  She saw that his eyes were as blue as his hair was red and the contrast was startling. His complexion was pale and freckled. Kitty noticed a matt sheen on his skin where the grain dust had stuck to his sweat.

  A brown cravat was tied in a neat knot at his throat and his white shirt fell open at the neck, billowing against his braces as the wind pulled it free from his ragged-bottomed trousers. Even after a short time, Kitty was aware that a neat trouser hem was a rare thing in Bangornevin and yet she had seen Maeve, night after night, sewing them up by the light of the lamp when everyone was in bed.

  Kitty averted her eyes, aware that she had been staring.

  ‘Well?’ he asked again and Kitty noticed he was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘My name’s Kitty.’

  ‘Kitty. That’s a nice, normal name. Mine’s Aengus.’

  Kitty laughed. ‘Well, Aengus is normal enough. Aengus.’ She let it slowly roll off her tongue. ‘We have just learnt a poem in school called “A Song of Wandering Aengus”,’ said Kitty.

  She looked thoughtful as she scampered around inside her own memory in search of the poem, and, unable to find it, instead spoke his name out loud.

  Again.

  ‘Aengus. ’Tis a nice name.’

  He began to speak in a slower, softer voice:

  ‘But something rustled on the floor

  And someone called me by my name:

  It had become a glimmering girl

  With apple blossom in her hair.’

  He looked at Kitty and smiled. She felt her stomach flip.

  ‘If ye go to school in Mayo, Yeats is pushed down your throat, or ye can’t pass the leaving cert,’ he explained.

  ‘Leaving cert? What on earth is that?’

  ‘It’s hard work, that’s what it is.’

  Nellie ran up alongside and took hold of Kitty’s hand.

  ‘Time to start putting the food out,’ she said.

  Kitty was reluctant to move away.

  She liked this boy. She wanted to speak with him for longer. Kitty had never talked to a boy. Boys were like another species at school. She never imagined one would specially talk to her. Why would he do that?

  ‘Ah, food. Well, we will need that soon, to be sure. I will see ye at the barn then, ladies.’ Aengus raised his cap and walked away.

  As soon as he was out of earshot Kitty said, ‘Oh God, was he gorgeous or not? Tell me, Nellie, look back, is he watching me walk away? Go ahead, look.’

  Aengus was whacking the boys, who were mercilessly teasing him, with his tweed cap. As he looked up, he saw Nellie looking and lifted his cap high in the air in salute.

  Nellie turned back sharply. ‘Oh God, Kitty, he’s looking straight at us.’

  Both the girls giggled and, with an audacity she didn’t even know she possessed, Kitty turned round and waved back at Aengus.

  ‘Oh my God, oh my God, am I mad or what?’ said Kitty as she giggled. With shining eyes and long hair flowing, they ran to the barn, burning onto the skyline an imprint of youth, as they faded through the brimming air.

  Within half an hour, the barn was full with villagers. Maeve and Kathleen gave each helper a heaped plate of food.

  ‘No half-measures at Ballymara farm,’ shouted Maeve as she dished up the meal.

  The fiddler had shown up and began to play for his lunch. Over in the corner of the barn, some of the women were already swishing their tea round in their cups before they tipped them up and handed the leaves to Nana Kathleen to read.

  ‘One, two, three. There must be enough tea left for the leaves to be swilled round a full three times or the luck doesn’t come,’ said Kathleen to the circle of women gathering round her.

  The first young woman to hand over her cup was shaking like a leaf.

  ‘Aha,’ said Kathleen. She had already noted that the young woman’s breasts were bigger than they had ever been before. She had also known her mother, who was as flat as a pancake. ‘I think that maybe a babby will be on its way very soon,’ grinned Kathleen, looking up from the teacup.

  ‘It is, Kathleen,’ the girl whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘We haven’t told Mammy yet, because she’s not so well but we will do, this Sunday, after mass.’

  Kathleen continued, ‘I think there is a move coming soon, I can see open land and a river.’

  ‘Oh, Kathleen, that is just so fantastic. We are moving to Mulingar and have our own farm from his daddy, right down on the river, with fishing too.’

  Kathleen had heard that in the post office from Mrs O’Dwyer.

  She smiled. ‘Well, I never. Ye know, the tea leaves, they never lie, ye can keep nothing from them at all, so ye can’t.’

  Aengus had studied Kitty all through the lunch. She had been busy helping to serve the food and as she walked up to the house, carrying the empty tin trenchers, Aengus caught up with her.

  He fixed her once again with his magical grin and, with his bright blue eyes smiling, asked her, ‘Will ye be away to the Castlefeale dance next Saturday?’

  ‘I may be,’ said Kitty.

  ‘And if ye are, would I be able to walk with ye?’

  ‘Ye may be,’ said Kitty, smiling back at him. ‘I’ll have to ask my mammy.’

  And with that, afraid of making herself look foolish, she ran up the path to the kitchen door to help the others with the dishes.

  Aengus, watching
Kitty’s back, whispered to himself:

  ‘With apple blossom in her hair

  Who called me by my name and ran.’

  Inside the kitchen, Maeve was loading the trenchers into a straw donkey basket.

  ‘Girls, would ye take these over to the stream and give them a rinse for me and then bring them back.’

  ‘And come here and give your mother a hug, miss.’ Maura grabbed Kitty from behind and hugged her so tightly, she squeaked in protest.

  ‘Mammy, I can’t breathe.’

  Maeve looked on fondly and laughed.

  Maura spun Kitty round and placed a big kiss on the top of her head. For a small second, mother and daughter savoured the moment whilst Maura silently prayed.

  Tomorrow would be a very different day.

  The girls each grabbed a handle on the basket and skipped outside. Kitty didn’t know if it was the music playing that had created an atmosphere of high gaiety, or the gorgeous boy who wanted to talk to her, or the happiness and love she felt whilst she was staying in the farmhouse. She knew only that she felt so happy, she desperately wanted to cry, and as her eyes welled up, she could barely stop herself.

  Being pregnant was something she had entirely forgotten until this moment.

  They stopped at the stone sink perched on the stream. Kitty knelt down and, for a moment, put her head in her hands. It was the only place she could be alone.

  ‘What’s up, Kitty?’ said Nellie.

  ‘I don’t know. It is just all so much. Everyone is so wonderful and I have never felt this happy, I don’t think, ever in me whole life.’

  18

  ANGELA HATED HAVING to wait for the boys to catch up when they walked to school. The only one who could concentrate on an instruction for more than five seconds was Harry. The rest wouldn’t listen to a word she said.

  ‘Ye aren’t our Kitty or Mammy, ye know,’ shouted Malachi. ‘Ye can’t tell us what to do.’

  He stuck out his tongue at Angela and grabbed the school bag out of her hand so that it fell to the floor. Picking up the bag, Angela swung it round full circle until it walloped him between the shoulder blades with a thud so hard that Malachi fell forward and hit the pavement with a smack.

  His screams pierced the morning air and brought neighbours to their windows to see what was happening.

  ‘Don’t do that, our Angela,’ shouted Declan, bending down to help Malachi up.

  Declan had crusty hair and dried pobs in his ears.

  Earlier in the morning he had dared to answer Angela back, who had responded by picking up his bowl of pobs and upending it on his head. The warm milk and bread had run down the sides of his face and into his ears.

  ‘I’m sick to death of all of youse,’ shouted Angela. ‘None of ye does as ye is told. I’m leaving and going to school on me own now.’

  She stormed off ahead, just as Little Paddy caught up with them all. Harry had pushed the baby in her pram round to Alice’s house before setting off to school. He met up with Little Paddy as he ran out of his back gate.

  ‘Sure, ye look mighty fed up, Paddy,’ said Harry. ‘Why haven’t ye been out on the green playing all weekend?’

  ‘I got a belt from me da, an’ I wasn’t allowed,’ Little Paddy replied, looking very miserable and downbeat. ‘He said I told another lie, but I didn’t, I know what I saw, but I ’ave to keep me gob shut. I hate feckin’ grown-ups, I do. I’m going to run away to sea on a ship, as soon as I’m old enough.’

  Harry nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t that keen on grown-ups himself. He thought they were very chaotic and disorganized.

  ‘Ye can tell me, Paddy. I won’t say a word to no one, I promise.’

  ‘I can’t tell ye. I still can’t sit down yet, my backside is so sore. I’m not risking it again, but I will tell ye this, Harry, next time I see something, I’m comin’ for ye to see it with me. Everyone believes you and no one believes me, so they don’t, an’ I hate being called a liar, because I have never told a lie to anyone – I haven’t.’

  For a reassuring moment, Harry put his arm round Little Paddy’s shoulders.

  Little Paddy flinched. ‘Can ye feel the pain?’ he asked. Little Paddy’s shoulders hurt too.

  ‘Yes, I can, Paddy, it’s terrible,’ said Harry, and he meant it. He could feel his friend’s pain.

  The only noise, as they shuffled along, came from Little Paddy’s shoes, which were three sizes too big.

  Harry had watched Angela as she stormed away. Now he picked out a soggy lump of pobs from Declan’s hair.

  He hoped his mammy would be home soon. He hadn’t known she was leaving for Ireland and the news had been met with an outpouring of tears from the girls and stunned silence from the boys. Tommy seemed flustered and promised them all she would be back in a few days, but not with Kitty. Kitty would be staying in Ireland a little longer.

  Harry was thoughtful as he walked. Alice hadn’t seemed that happy to look after the baby and it already felt as if the house was falling apart without Maura.

  As they passed by Molly Barrett’s, her door suddenly swung open and there she stood with a plate in her hand.

  ‘Biscuit, boys?’ she said, nodding at her plate. Little Paddy and Harry looked at each other.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Little Paddy, with enthusiasm. Peggy only ever baked on Sundays.

  Harry was frightened of Mrs Barrett but he didn’t know why.

  Tiger pushed past Molly’s ankles and with its eyes fixed on the boys, pushed itself up against Molly’s legs. The cat hissed softly as it regarded the boys and both little Paddy and Harry involuntarily placed their hands across the front of their shorts.

  Molly wasted no time in quizzing Harry, who couldn’t take his eyes off the cat. ‘I saw yer mammy leaving the house when I was letting Tiger in, Harry,’ she said, with a fake smile, which didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘She had a big bag with her, she did. Gone away, has she?’

  Little Paddy turned round and looked at Harry with an expression of complete amazement. ‘Yer mammy’s gone away, where?’ he almost shouted. ‘Mammy said you is coming to our house for yer tea tonight. Is that why?’

  Harry had no idea what to do or say without appearing rude. He decided that honesty was the best policy. He couldn’t lie, Tommy hadn’t told them to lie and that was a big sin anyway.

  ‘She’s gone to see Kitty in Ireland, but she will be back soon, Mrs Barrett.’

  ‘Will Kitty be with her?’

  Mrs Barrett wasn’t giving up and Harry wished Paddy would stop accepting biscuits from the plate.

  Harry was no fool, he had told her all a nosy neighbour needed to know. ‘I don’t know, she might be,’ he replied, then, ‘Paddy, we will be late, we have to go. Bye, Mrs Barrett.’

  It had become apparent to Angela that their mother must have been on the go constantly when she was at home. Angela was exhausted and yet her only job was to supervise breakfast and see everyone safely through the school gates.

  ‘It’s a catastrophe in our kitchen, so it is,’ she wearily told her friend, as she walked into her classroom that morning. ‘Everything falls on my shoulders, now that Kitty and Mammy have taken a holiday. It is truly shocking, so it is, to put on me so.’

  In assembly prayers that morning, Harry prayed, ‘Please God, bring Mammy and Kitty home this afternoon, because I’m not looking forward to Peggy’s tea tonight. Amen.’

  Alice had Maura’s baby on her knee, ready to feed her a bottle, and was surprised to see Peggy march in through the back door.

  ‘Morning, queen,’ said Peggy breezily. ‘How are the little ones?’

  ‘They are both fine, thank you, Peggy.’ There was a note of query in Alice’s voice.

  The unasked question. What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?

  Alice was instantly on her guard. Peggy was the biggest gossip in the street.

  ‘Brigid tells me ye are away out today. Can I do anything to help?’

  Peggy hovered over Alice, grinning and p
eering. The thought that Peggy looked just like an old crone fleetingly crossed Alice’s mind.

  ‘No, thanks, Peggy. I have everything under control and besides, I am only popping into town for a couple of hours. I won’t be long.’

  ‘Ah, town is it, then? And what would ye be getting in town?’

  Peggy had sat herself down in the armchair and made herself very comfortable. She looked as though she was settling in for the morning. Alice felt herself seething inside. Peggy smelt especially high, which did not help.

  ‘Well, I’m off to see a friend and then I thought I would call into the meat market on my way back,’ she said.

  ‘There’s good meat in Murphy’s. Ye won’t get any better in town.’ Peggy sniffed.

  Alice felt as if she wanted to scream. How could she rid herself of this stupid woman?

  ‘Well, Peggy, I fancy a change, thanking you all the same, and now if you don’t mind, I would like to get on.’

  Peggy looked shocked. ‘Are ye taking both babies with ye?’

  ‘Heavens, no. Brigid is looking after them for me, until I get back. I have enough trouble looking after one, never mind two.’

  ‘Aye, well, Maura will be back before ye know it. She has only taken Kitty to visit her granny,’ said Peggy.

  Peggy now knew for sure that Little Paddy had been lying and deserved the beating he had got from his da.

  Alice was as cool as a cucumber and, sure, wasn’t Brigid looking after Alice’s kids, whilst she went into town?

  No, not even Alice could kiss someone else’s husband and then act this calmly under Peggy’s laser scrutiny.

  Yes, she was sure. Little Paddy had been lying again.

  ‘Oh, well then, I didn’t realize ye was leaving so early, I’m sure,’ said Peggy, aware that she was not as welcome in this kitchen when Kathleen was away with Alice presiding.

  Hurt and wounded that she hadn’t been offered a cuppa, she heaved her huge frame out of the chair on the third attempt and then waddled down the road, to scrounge her morning tea and as many biscuits as she could lay her hands on at Mrs Keating’s.

  Alice met Sean outside the Railwayman pub, where she slipped a key into his hand.