The Godforsaken Daughter by Christina McKenna Read Free Book Online

tiptoeing up the stairs to eavesdrop. She knew for certain she was being talked about and decided to take the chance. But May had pulled the door open at the precise moment she’d gained the landing.
    “What are you like? D’you think you couldn’t be heard creaking up them stairs? If you want to be a sneak, lose some weight, then you can tiptoe about all you like.”
    “Some chance of that.” June’s face at her sister’s shoulder, giving the illusion of a two-headed fiend. “We weren’t talking about you anyway, Ruby.”
    “Dinner’s ready,” Ruby said, wrong-footing the pair. Dinner wasn’t really ready, but she thought she’d risk it.
    “Well, why didn’t you say so? We’ll be down in a minute when we help Mummy up.”
    When they were growing up, Mrs. Clare had been simply referred to as “Mammy,” but Belfast had turned the twins snobby. So “Mammy” got swapped for the more pretentious-sounding “Mummy.”
    At the dinner table they discussed their week at Boots department store, May holding forth as usual.
    “Mr. Ross praised my work this morning.” She scooped a tiny portion of Ruby’s shepherd’s pie onto her plate and inspected it, fork poised. “I hope there’s no fat in this, Ruby. June and me are watching our figures, you know.” She raised an eyebrow, the unspoken “unlike you” implicit in the gesture. “Yes, he’s so impressed, Mr. Ross, with how I deal with customers. He took me into his office and said, ‘May, you’re a wonder, you are. I saw how you dealt with that lady.’”
    “What lady was that?” asked the mother, mashing her dinner up, as if preparing it for a baby.
    “Oh, she was hardly a lady, Mummy. A crude old bag from the Shankill, by the sound of her. She was returning a packet of laxatives.”
    “That’s a Protestant area, isn’t it,” remarked Ruby.
    June rolled her eyes. “Well, of course it’s a Prod area, Ruby. What a silly question!”
    Ruby shrugged. “Just wondered how you knew she was Protestant just by lookin’ at her . . . That’s all.”
    May left down her knife and fork with a resigned expression. “God, Ruby, you know nothing, do you? June and me know what part of Belfast they’re from by the way they speak. Don’t we, June?”
    “Dear me.” Martha sighed.
    “Anyway, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?” She looked pointedly at Ruby.
    “Just askin’,” Ruby said.
    “She was returning a packet of laxatives,” June put in.
    “Thank you, June . . . Y es, she was returning a packet of laxatives with half of them gone, and she wanted her money back. Can you believe it? So I said, ‘What was wrong with them? You’ve used fifteen.’ And she said, ‘They’re good for bloody nathin’, so they’re nat. My husband hasn’t been to the toilet for a week and he’s been takin’ them every night and nat a dickey bird.’”
    “And what did you say?” asked June, prompting like an understudy. She’d heard the story already on the bus home, knew what was expected of her.
    “‘Well,’ I said. ‘They’re the strongest constipation pills we have, madam.’” She scoped the table. “Mr. Ross says we must all address customers as ‘madam’—even oul’ slappers like her—or ‘sir,’ to give a good impression. So I said: ‘In that case you’d best take him to the doctor. It could be serious. He might have a blockage.’ And d’you know what she said, right out in front of everybody? ’Cos there was quite a queue forming, with her keeping everybody back. She says, ‘Blockage, me arse, missus! Gimme me effin’ money back.’”
    “Not much breeding in that one. God, there are some very crude people in Belfast. Is it any wonder they’re all killing each other?”
    “Oh, Mummy, you don’t know the half of it. What I have to put up with!” She looked down at her plate. “This dinner’s cold.”
    “Ruby, put that in the microwave for your sister.”
    Any wonder it’s cold? You’ve been gabbing so