A Glimpse at Happiness by Jean Fullerton Read Free Book Online

mouth into a straight line, she strode over.
     
    ‘Is that your dog?’ she asked in an odd-sounding Irish accent and pointing her finger at Snapper.
     
    ‘Aye,’ Ma replied, drawing slowly on her pipe.
     
    ‘Well, then,’ the young woman said, glancing briefly to where the dog was shredding the last few solid pieces of the coloured fabric. ‘If you don’t want the police after you, you had better keep it under control.’
     
    As the words left her lips Josie realised that she just should have walked by and ignored them. Now it was too late.
     
    The man and the wrinkled old woman stopped laughing instantly and the old woman blew smoke out of the corner of her mouth. She was bareheaded and without a shawl and a grimy charcoal gown covered her overfed figure. Although her hair was pulled back, a number of greasy strands fell around her face and, as her grey eyes glided slowly over her, Josie suppressed the urge to shudder.
     
    ‘You threatening us with the nabbers, are you?’ the man asked, revealing a set of brown teeth.
     
    A tingle of disquiet crept up Josie’s spine. The crowd gathering around them was enjoying her discomfort and, although they seemed good-natured, if this brute turned nasty she knew that every one of them would turn their back and leave her to her fate. She tugged down the front of her coat.
     
    ‘I’m just saying that it might not be an umbrella next time but a child’s leg, that’s all.’ She set her lips firmly together. ‘But as there is no harm done we’ll say no more about it this time. Good day.’
     
    She went to walk past but the man grabbed her arm. ‘What’s your hurry, sweetie? Come and ’ave a drink.’
     
    His fingers closed around her arm and dug through the fabric of her jacket. Josie glanced down at the plump hand with dirty, broken nails and then she fixed its owner with a furious stare.
     
    ‘Let go of me.’
     
    ‘A sweet girly like her is too good for you, Harry,’ the old woman said. ‘She’s probably got some man waiting for her, some toff, who ain’t got missing teeth or a beer belly.’
     
    Harry sucked in his stomach as he gave his mother a hateful look, and then turned his attention back to Josie.
     
    ‘You can have a brandy with me before you run off to your fancy man,’ he said, dragging her towards him.
     
    ‘She don’t seem very keen, son,’ the old woman said, as Josie’s feet skidded on the earth.
     
    Her bonnet fell to one side but Josie ignored it and glared at the man holding her. ‘Get your filthy hands off me, you great lummox, or by the Virgin I’ll see you swing for it, so I will,’ she yelled.
     
    The old woman chuckled. ‘Oh, Gawd luv us, she’s a Paddy.’
     
    ‘Well, that’s all right then, they all like a drink or two,’ Harry said.
     
    With a monumental effort, Josie ripped her arm free. Harry reached out to catch her again then his gaze flickered past her.
     
    ‘Can I be of some assistance, Miss?’ a deep voice with an Irish lilt asked from behind.
     
    Josie spun around and stared up at the face that she’d thought never to see again this side of heaven.
     
    ‘Patrick?’
     
    There was the mass of black hair that she remembered so well, curled around his ears and forehead, softening the toughness of his face. There was the same strong nose, well-shaped mouth and square jaw, now covered with the dark hue of end-of-day stubble. There was also a spray of dark chest hair poking up through his open shirt that hadn’t spread past his breastbone the last time she had seen him.
     
    ‘Josie?’
     
    She nodded. She had to, because she couldn’t speak.
     
    ‘What are you doing here? What are you do—’ Patrick stopped and glanced over her shoulder. ‘Is this fellow bothering you, Miss O’Casey?’ he asked, stepping between her and her tormenters.
     
    A laugh bubbled up inside and dizziness circled around her head for a moment. Patrick was alive and not at the bottom of the ocean or rotting in