After the War is Over by Maureen Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

argued.
    ‘Not any more.’ Nell was much nicer. Nelly made her feel old. ‘What’s your new bike like to ride?’ she asked. Dad had come up with a Raleigh racing bike he’d probably taken in payment for something like a wireless or an electric fire that was worth far less. Very little of Dad’s way of making a living was on the right side of legal. There was always the chance that the bike had initially been stolen.
    ‘It’s the gear, sis, but I’m terrified of it being robbed. Me dad’s threatened me with death by a thousand cuts if I lose it. I think I might stop using it. It’s not worth the worry.’
    Maggie’s mam and dad rarely went to bed before midnight. When she reached home, the wireless was on, Dad was writing letters at the table and Mam was knitting a cardigan for the new baby. Tinker was prowling the room looking for something to do.
    ‘Can’t you ever sit down normally?’ her mother asked when Maggie threw herself into a chair. ‘You fling yourself about like a football.’
    Maggie ignored the comment. ‘Is our Ryan in the parlour with Beattie Doyle?’ she enquired. Dad normally used the parlour as an office. He was secretary or chairman of several organisations such as the Labour Party, the Workers’ Educational Authority and the Fabians, which meant having to write loads of letters. That he was writing them in this room meant the parlour was being used for another purpose.
    ‘Ryan’s in the parlour,’ her mother replied, ‘but Beattie’s been given her marching orders. He’s with Rosie Hesketh. She only lives in Amber Street, opposite the Desmonds.’
    ‘I liked Beattie, she had lovely nails.’ Rosie Hesketh had been in the same class as Maggie in school, and was the most argumentative person she’d ever known. On impulse, Maggie seized her mother’s scissors and began to cut bits off her hair, while her mother watched, frowning.
    ‘If you cut that curl off, you’re going to have a gap in your forehead,’ she said. ‘Put them scissors down and tell me about tonight. Did you have a nice time?’
    ‘It was the gear, Mam.’
    ‘Did you meet anyone?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘How about Nell? Did she have a nice time?’
    ‘It was the gear for Nell too, but she didn’t meet anyone either.’
    ‘It sounds to me as if it was nothing but a waste of time,’ her father grunted, lifting his head.
    ‘How can it be a waste of time, Dad, if it was the gear?’ She and her father stared at each other, trying not to blink, until they both started laughing. Maggie said, ‘Don’t forget I can type those letters for you if you want. I can do them in me dinner hour when Iggy goes to the pub. He usually stays two hours at least.’ He often returned as drunk as a lord, but she hadn’t told Mam and Dad that. Her mother already disapproved of Iggy without having so much as set eyes on him.
    ‘It doesn’t seem proper,’ she said now, ‘your employer allowing you to call him by his first name. You should address him as Mr Reilly, or sir.’
    ‘Sir!’ Maggie snorted. ‘He’d laugh his head off if I called him that.’
    ‘That seems a very strange attitude for an employer to take.’
    Maggie went to bed. Tinker came with her and fell asleep on her feet. She lay there, listening to Mam and Dad talking downstairs and her little sister Bridie breathing softly in her bed on the other side of the room. After a while, she heard Rosie Hesketh in the hall saying good night. Ryan said in a loud voice, ‘See you in five minutes,’ and the front door closed. Five minutes later it opened again and Ryan came back in. Not long afterwards, he went to bed. He slept in the next room and made a terrible noise as he got undressed. The bed creaked violently when he got in, as if he’d dropped on it from a great height. Then there was silence, though she could still hear the murmur of her parents’ voices downstairs, and Tinker’s loud purring.
    Feeling content that her family were all safe and sound under