Coming Home to the Four Streets Nadine Dorries (book recommendations for young adults TXT) 📖

and have a drink with me and Reg.’ She pushed the point because she could see, instead of Eric waving it away, the thought had landed on a perch in his mind.

Cindy was an expert in communicating and said no more. She slipped her cigarettes into her front pocket as the bell jangled and the door opened.

‘Biddy, love, I haven’t seen you for ages, I thought you must have deserted me.’

‘I’m in need of a perm, Cindy, but I haven’t time for that right now so can you fit me in for a cut and can I book in a perm before the carnival? Oh, hello, Eric, do you come here to get your hair cut then?’

Eric stood and laughed. ‘No, I do not. I’d come out smelling like a French tart’s boudoir, thank you very much. It’s the barber for me.’

‘Oi, cheeky bugger,’ said Cindy, laughing. ‘Come on, Biddy, sit down. I’ve got time.’ As she took the cup and saucer from Eric she said, ‘Don’t you be forgetting what I said, will you, now?’

She gave Eric a knowing look and Eric replied quietly, ‘No, I’ll bear that in mind, Cindy, I will. I might just take you up on it,’ knowing that he would never in a million years have the nerve to tell Gladys he was off to the pub. The consequences would be too great. Gladys would purse her grey lips and her serpent tongue would do its worst.

Cindy smiled and held his gaze for a moment. ‘You do that. Even if you just pop in for a quick pint with us, it would be lovely to see you, Eric.’ She turned to Biddy and said, ‘Come on then, give us your coat, Biddy. And shall we give it a quick set? I can blast the dryers on full? Don’t mind me if I faint from the heat, I always come back round.’

Biddy began to giggle. ‘She’s a case, that one is, Eric. Get away with you Cindy. Only if you have time, and it’s no trouble.’

‘See you then, Eric,’ Cindy called out and he was back on his cart and halfway to the dairy before he realised that Cindy hadn’t paid and Gladys would want to know why he was short when she cashed up the takings.

Chapter Fourteen

It had taken seven long days for Harry to land back on safe shores, during which time Maura had been warned a number of times by the doctors at the hospital that he could lose one of his arms or even his life.

‘The poison has travelled high and fast, I’m sorry to say; he has septicaemia and he’s a very sick little boy,’ the doctor had said and the expression on his face held no sign of hope.

Maura hardly slept but sat by her son’s bed for all the hours the hospital would allow her and fretted and wept for the hours they would not, her rosary beads never leaving her hand. On the eighth day, after twenty-four hours with no temperature, Harry ate food for the first time. Now he was almost ready to be released.

‘He was asking for you and little Paddy as soon as I came on duty today,’ Maura’s favourite young nurse said as Maura sat down beside her son’s bed. ‘I gather he was awake long before dawn which is why he’s sleeping now! I’ll fetch you a cuppa from the kitchen. Did you get a lift here?

‘I did,’ said Maura, her eyes never leaving her son as she gently pushed his fringe back from his face. ‘Liam brought me. Sister said I can stay until twelve today. Liam has gone to the market and he’ll take me back.’

‘Hello, who is this then?’ said the nurse as she flicked the brake on the linen trolley off and pushed it away from the bed. Her eyes were fixed on the sister’s table in the middle of the ward and the woman who had walked in through the ward doors. Visitors were forbidden during the morning, without express permission from sister and the woman appeared to be in deep conversation with the staff nurse on duty. ‘Ah, looks like they know each other,’ said the nurse and turned back to Maura. ‘Would you like a bit of toast? Did ye have time for a bite before you left home?’

Maura’s stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food. ‘I did not. I was so busy making sure everything was set up for when the kids got up, I forgot about myself.’

The nurse smiled. ‘I thought as much. I’ve seen more meat on a butcher’s pencil than there is on your bones. I’ll be back in a jiffy with a bit of tea and toast for yourself.’

As the nurse walked down the ward, Maura watched her go. She felt her heart fill with gratitude for the young woman who had cared for Harry with as much attentiveness and affection as she would have one of her own. The staff nurse called her over and Maura noticed that the visitor asked her a question before she walked down the ward towards Harry’s bed. As the woman came closer, Maura recognised her as someone she had occasionally seen at the Sacred Heart church on Sunday mornings when they went to mass with Liam and Maeve.

‘Hello, Maura,’ she said. ‘You don’t know me, but you know my son well enough back in Liverpool – he’s Dr Cole and I’m a good friend of Kathleen’s.’

Maura’s face lit up just at the mention of home. Dr Cole had brought Harry safely through most of his late-night asthma attacks. His mammy was smartly dressed and carried a handbag looped over her arm. Her brown felt hat was held in place with a pearl-topped hatpin and her face resembled Kathleen’s with cheeks as soft and as puffy as fresh pats of dough and eyes as twinkly blue as only Irish eyes can be.

‘Does Dr Cole know Harry is here?’ asked Maura, confused