by Anna King
Summoning up a smile, Jane answered quickly, ‘No, Rory, he just scared me a bit, that’s all… Honest.’ Not for the world would she ever admit the full extent of the assault Barney Hobbs had subjected her to. For if she told, or Rory ever found out… Jane felt a ripple of fear pass through her body at the thought of what her brother would do if he were to discover the whole truth – and not just Rory, but the rest of the family as well.
On the way home, Jane kept up a constant stream of chatter, aided by Shaun and Pat, in an effort to restore her brother’s natural good humour, for their mother was as sharp as a knife and none of them could ever keep anything from her. As they neared the house she looked to Shaun, saying over-brightly, ‘I’ll run on ahead and tell Mum you’re coming.’
Sensing the reason behind Jane’s words, Shaun and Pat both nodded. ‘That’s a grand idea, Jane. It’ll give us time to cheer this miserable bugger up, ’cos we don’t want Mum to see him like this. We’re already gonna get it in the neck for fighting on a Sunday.’ A knowing look passed between them, a look that spoke volumes.
Jane needed no more encouragement. Holding her hat in place with one hand, she picked up her skirt with the other, so as to not impede her movement, and ran on ahead, bursting into the terraced house out of breath and trembling as the full enormity of what she was about to tell her mother dawned on her.
‘Jasus, girl, what ails ye?’ Annie Flynn came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a clean dishcloth. ‘Sure ye look like the divil himself was after ye.’
Jane held her hand at her side as if she had a stitch from running. Gasping, she said, ‘Where’s Dad, Mum? I’ve got to tell you both something.’
As if conjured out of thin air, Paddy Flynn appeared behind his wife.
‘Did I hear someone take me name in vain?’ he quipped humorously. But the smile slipped from his face as Jane blurted out her news.
‘Cathy Meadows is back. I saw her, Mum, and so did Shaun and Pat.’
At her daughter’s words, the colour drained from Annie’s face. Feeling behind her for a chair, she sank down unsteadily. She felt her husband’s hand grip her shoulder and grabbed hold of it tightly, taking reassurance from the loving gesture.
‘Now are ye sure, Jane?’ Paddy asked, while knowing the question was futile. His daughter wasn’t daft, and she’d said Shaun and Pat had seen Cathy too. So all that remained was to find out if Rory knew. For if he did, then God help them all. Paddy would never have believed any of his sons would have been so devastated on account of a woman, for none of them had ever had any trouble in that department. He had lost count of the girls they had taken up with. But that… that woman had left his eldest son’s life in tatters.
‘Holy Mary, mother of God.’ Annie gripped her husband’s hand tighter and asked the question that was hovering on his lips. ‘Did our Rory see her, love?’
The question was more of a plea than a query, and Annie visibly slumped with relief when Jane, looking from her mother to her father, answered, ‘No, Mum. He was too busy fighting with Barney Hobbs to notice…’ She trailed off as she realised she had unwittingly dropped her brothers into trouble, but she needn’t have worried. Her sons fighting was the furthest thought from Annie’s mind at the moment.
‘Right then,’ said Paddy. ‘Well have to make sure it stays that way, for the time being at least.’ As Paddy started to talk, Annie knew what her husband was going to say and quickly forestalled him.
Annie got to her feet, her chin jutting out determinedly. ‘I know we can’t keep it quiet for long; the gossipmongers will be having a field day once this gets out, so we’ll say no more about it for the time being. For now we’ll carry on as normal. It’ll give me a chance to think of something to stop that trollop from getting her hooks into our Rory again.’ Briskly now, she set about laying the table, banging down the plates so hard Jane was sure they would break, but she wasn’t about to say anything – she’d had enough upset for the day.
When the three brothers came through the door, Annie told them to wash before coming to the table, cuffing them all around the head for fighting, especially on a Sunday. For even if Jane hadn’t split on them, the state of their clothes and the minor cuts on their faces and hands would have given them away. Though if Annie had known what had provoked the fight she’d have gone round to Barney Hobbs’ house and flattened him herself. At any other time she would have asked what it was about, but her mind was busy elsewhere.
When the family were seated at the table and Annie had said grace, they set about eating the roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, verbally sparring with each other as they always did. To anyone looking on it would have seemed like any other Sunday lunch. Only those seated at the table knew that the friendly banter was merely a façade to hide their true feelings.
* * *
Later, as she got into bed, Annie said to Paddy, ‘I’ll be off round to Shore Road first thing in the morning. I want to find out what that woman’s up to.’
Paddy gathered her into his arms, murmuring, ‘You do what ye feel is best, me darling, you always do. But ye can’t be doing anything tonight, so try and get some sleep.’
An angry tut of annoyance spilled from her lips. ‘Sleep, ye say! Mother of God. Sure an’ how d’ye expect me to sleep with all this worry on me mind? But you go ahead, I wouldn’t want to be depriving ye of your rest. Though how yer can even think about sleeping is a mystery to me.’
Knowing that whatever he said he would still be in the wrong, Paddy kept his own counsel and stayed silent.
It wasn’t long before Annie heard Paddy’s soft snores. She had a sudden irrational urge to prod him awake, but she resisted it and lay staring into the darkness, seething with anger and worry, her mind conjuring up the image of Cathy Meadows’ brazen face. For what seemed like hours she tossed and turned, but Paddy didn’t even stir. Gazing up into the darkness of the room, Annie thought back over the past year. Yet even as she worried over her son’s reaction once he found out that Cathy Meadows was back, her mind turned to Josie Guntrip. Poor Josie.
There had been no one more delighted than Annie when Rory had first shown some interest in Josie. They had grown up together, started and left school together. Up until that time Rory had looked upon her as a sister, though as anyone with half an eye could see, the adoration shining from Josie’s face whenever Rory was near her had been painfully obvious. Then one day he had started taking more notice of his childhood friend. For nearly six months they had courted, and Annie had prayed silently that things would eventually get serious, for there was nobody she would rather have as a daughter-in-law than Josie Guntrip; even if it meant taking her mother into the family. Annie’s lips pursed at the thought of Elsie Guntrip, then she chided herself for letting her mind wander. Turning on to her side, she concentrated on the matter in hand. But first she had to be fair to her son, for though Josie had been in love with Rory for years, Rory had never led her to believe that there was a future for them.
A wry smile moved Annie’s lips. Ever since he’d been in short trousers, Rory had had the girls after him. Shaun and Pat had had their share too, but Rory had that certain something that attracted the girls, something that was hard to define and impossible to put into words. And Josie, God love her, had been no different. Those six months with Rory had been the happiest time of Josie’s life, even though she knew Rory wasn’t in love with her. Just being with him had been enough for her. Annie had tried her best to encourage her son to make a commitment, but he had just laughed, declaring he was too young to settle down, adding cheerfully that he and Josie were just fine as they were. Then Cathy Meadows had appeared on the scene, and Rory had fallen head over heels in love. And poor, sweet Josie had quietly slipped into the background without a word of protest, leaving Rory free to take up with the girl who had shattered her dreams for the future.
Everyone had been furious with Rory for treating Josie in such a callous manner, but Rory hadn’t seen it that way. He had genuinely believed
that Josie shared his feelings, and couldn’t see why everyone was making such a fuss. He had even asked Josie if she minded him ending their relationship, and of course Josie had made it easy for him, even though Annie had known the young woman was heartbroken at losing Rory to another woman.
Annie thumped her pillow, turning her face into its softness as her mind continued to wander. The affair with Cathy Meadows had lasted just four months, before the woman had turned her attention to Barney Hobbs, leaving Rory devastated. To make matters worse, he hadn’t received any sympathy from anyone; his family included. Josie was well thought of, and there were many who believed Rory had got what he deserved for treating her so shabbily.
It was no secret that Cathy had left Rory for Barney Hobbs simply because he had his own business and wasn’t short of a few bob. Barney and Rory had never got on, but Barney’s glee at getting one over on the man he detested had been short-lived, for Cathy had soon moved on to her next victim. This time it was a middle-aged businessman, who could offer her not only a wealthy lifestyle, but also the opportunity to leave the East End to take up residence in his home in affluent Knightsbridge. Cathy had jumped at the chance. Barney Hobbs hadn’t had a clue what was going on behind his back. He had learned the truth only when he’d gone to her home, to be told by Cathy’s parents that their daughter had packed her belongings and left the previous night, accompanied by a man old enough to be her father. That had been nearly eighteen months ago. In fact Annie knew to the day when Cathy had left. It was the same day that the new king had come to the throne. So, for Annie at least, it had been a double celebration. Of course there had been much sadness following the death of the Queen, for she had been well loved by the people she had ruled over for so long. But Bertie, as he was affectionately known, had proved to be immensely popular, just as his mother had been before him.
No one had seen Cathy since – until today!
Now she was back. And if her track record was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long before she caused more trouble. Annie’s last thought before sleep overtook her was for her son. He’d already been hurt once; she wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen again.
Chapter Two
‘Rory!’
‘Yeah!’ Rory answered without stopping work. He shovelled another load of broken bricks into a half- filled skip. Then, when no answer came, he leaned on the wooden handle of the shovel and, wiping the sweat from his eyes, looked at his brother and said, ‘Well, what’s up?’
Shaun Flynn, his face caked with dust, said hesitantly, ‘I was wondering… Well, I wanted to ask if you’d mind if I asked Josie out one night.’ He nipped at his lower lip at the look that came over Rory’s face. ‘Only, if you’d rather I didn’t…’
Rory turned his back, his strong arm scooping another pile of bricks on to the flat shovel, and said tersely, ‘You do what you want, mate. It ain’t got nothing to do with me what Josie does.’
Shaun’s face lit up with relief. ‘Thanks, Rory.’ He stifled a nervous laugh. ‘Mind you, she might turn me down, she don’t go out with any old Tom, Dick or Harry. She’s very fussy, is Josie, not like some I could mention…’ His voice trailed off as he realised what he’d said. Then, in a clumsy attempt to make amends, he muttered, ‘Sorry, Rory, I didn’t mean anything by…’
Rory’s head seemed to jerk on his shoulders before he replied tersely, ‘Look, just leave it, eh, Shaun?’ He glanced over his shoulder at his brother’s anxious face and sighed. He loved his brother, he loved all his family, but Lord above, Shaun could try the patience of a saint sometimes. He was twenty-two years old, and nearly six feet tall, yet he talked and acted like a ten-year-old at times. Like now, for instance. He put Rory in mind of a puppy, always eager to please, always wanting to make people like him, but what irritated Rory most was the way Shaun looked up to him. Since the time he could crawl, Shaun would follow his eldest brother everywhere. Not that Rory had minded back then; in fact, he had been quite proud at the open hero-worship. But that had been when they were children. They were all grown men now, yet still Shaun seemed to need Rory’s approval for everything he did. Not like Pat! Rory looked beyond Shaun to where his other brother was busily giving out orders to a group of workmen. Rory was both proud and envious that his brother was the gaffer. Proud because of the way Pat had worked to the elevated position he now held; envious because Rory didn’t like to be second best at anything.
As if aware of his brother’s scrutiny, Pat looked over and shouted good-naturedly, ‘What you two doing? It ain’t dinner time yet, so get your arses moving if you want paying at the end of the week.’
Rory waved back.
‘All right, guv, anything you say, guv. Lick your boots, guv?’
Pat grinned widely.
‘Don’t push your luck, you Irish git. And that goes for the rest of you lot.’
All the men on the building site resumed work with enthusiasm, glad they had a gaffer like Pat Flynn. Not that any of them would take liberties with the Irishman. Oh, no! He might like a laugh and a joke with his men, but if one of them were to step out of line he would come down on them like a ton of bricks.
‘Eh, he’s a laugh, ain’t he, Rory?’ Shaun was beside his brother, a wide grin on his homely face, and somehow this only served to annoy Rory more.
‘Yeah, ain’t he just. Maybe he should pack in his job and try an’ get work on the stage as a comedian. Now, for Gawd’s sake, get on with your work, instead of waffling on like an eejit.’
The Irish word came naturally to Rory’s lips. The way the various accents of the family conflicted was a constant source of amusement to everyone who knew the Flynns. There were Paddy and Annie, who still spoke in the thick Irish brogue of their native land, despite having lived in England for over twenty-five years. Then there were their sons, with their cockney accents, punctuated by the occasional Irish word or expression picked up from their parents; and lastly there was the daughter, her refined speech the result of her convent education.
‘Sorry, Rory.’
Shaun, knowing when to keep quiet, continued mixing cement, his eyes downcast. If it had been anyone else speaking to him like that he would have floored the man, but Rory was different; Rory was his brother, and as such could do no wrong in Shaun’s eyes. At the same time he was wondering how long it would be before Rory found out Cathy was back. He and Pat had wanted to tell him, rather than run the risk of him finding out from someone else, but their mother had been adamant about keeping quiet until she’d had a chance to visit Cathy and find out how long she was planning to stay. After all, she’d reasoned with them, the woman might well just have come back for the weekend to visit her parents. Furthermore, she had added, what was the point of causing Rory more pain unless it was absolutely necessary? Remembering his mother’s anxious face, Shaun felt a moment’s guilt. He shouldn’t have said anything about Josie, but tact had never been his strong suit. But the truth was, he had been in love with Josie for years. Even so, he told himself, he could have picked a better moment to bring the subject up.
Moreover, just as Shaun was thinking about his brother, Rory was doing likewise. As they worked side by side in silence, Rory thought guiltily, Damn! Why do I always have to go for him? It ain’t his fault I was taken for a mug. It was just that hearing Josie’s name had struck a painful chord; especially after yesterday’s run-in with Barney Hobbs. And there was something else that had been nagging at him since yesterday. It was nothing he could put his finger on, just a feeling that his family seemed to be behaving strangely. Then again, he was probably imagining it. He hadn’t been in the best of moods yesterday. Summoning up a cheerful countenance, he slapped Shaun on the back.
‘Sorry, mate. Don’t take no notice of me. I can be a miserable bugger at times. I don’t know how you put up with me. I know Pat wouldn’t.’ He let out a false laugh. ‘Bleeding hell! If I spoke to him like that I’d be flat on me back, and probably missing a couple of teeth into the bargain.’
S
haun smiled back, but there was a sadness in his eyes that Rory noticed immediately. Worst of all, he knew the reason behind his brother’s pitying look, and that knowledge brought with it a surge of rage. With renewed vigour he shovelled another load into the skip, throwing himself into the back-breaking job in an attempt to work out his frustration.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully until they were on their way home. Pat had gone on ahead, eager to get cleaned up before the latest love in his life, Freda Harris, arrived for her weekly visit; and the prospect of sitting down at the same table with Pat’s new lady friend seemed to Rory like a crappy end to a crappy day, for he couldn’t stand the woman.
Rory wasn’t aware that a silence had fallen between him and his brother until Shaun broke into his thoughts saying, ‘D’yer think Pat’s serious about Freda? Only I wouldn’t fancy ’aving her as a sister-in-law, would you, Rory?’
Rory shot a quizzical look at his brother. It wasn’t like Shaun to badmouth anyone. Then he realised that the man by his side was simply trying to make conversation. The tautness went out of Rory’s limbs and he laughed.
‘Bleeding ’ell, Shaun, don’t say that. It makes me skin crawl just thinking about it.’
Shaun gave a watery smile, then his head drooped, his eyes fixed on the pavement. Avoiding Rory’s eyes, he said softly, ‘About Josie, Rory. I meant what I said. If you don’t want me to… well you know, try me luck, then I won’t.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘She probably won’t want ter go out with me anyway. I’ve been trying ter pluck up the courage to ask her out for ages, but I thought that maybe you’d get back together one day, so I kept quiet.’
Rory stared at Shaun in amazement. All these years he had seen his younger brother as soft, the sort of bloke who blended into the background, a man with a weak personality, always larking about like a schoolboy. Yet in a matter of seconds Shaun had revealed his true character. He must have gone through hell watching his big brother going out with Josie, and yet he’d never said a word. He had kept his feelings hidden, and faded into the background even after Rory had walked out on Josie, just in case his beloved brother should change his mind and take up with her again.