The White Empress by Lyn Andrews Read Free Book Online

Shelagh would wake
     late and bad-tempered on Sunday mornings, complaining that she had a throbbing headache or felt too ill to go to Mass. Excuses
     which fooled no one and drew vitriolic condemnation from their landlady, for they were now paying rent and board. The O’Dwyers,
     like all their neighbours, were devout Catholics and even her Pa always managed to get up for Mass, no matter what state he
     had been in the previous night. She had noticed that his predilection for the bottle had returned now that he had money in
     his pocket. She had heard one of the neighbours telling another that Mick Cleary was to be seen in the alehouse at dinner
     time these days and, in fact, seemed to spend more time in there than at work.
    ‘An’ yer know wot that means?’
    ‘Aye, ’e’ll gerris card marked soon,’ the other had added.
    Her stomach had turned over as she had quietly closed the door. Just when they all seemed to be getting on!
    The following day had seen the first real blazing row when Shelagh had arrived home and announced that she couldn’t pay more
     than a shilling towards the rentbecause she owed one of her ‘pals’ most of her wages. It was the first time for years that Cat had seen her mother’s cheeks
     burn with anger. Good food and a steady wage, less grinding drudgery and a security of sorts had all served to strengthen
     Ellen Cleary and bring back some of her old spirit. She had demanded to know why Shelagh had owed money and what she had spent
     all her wages on. Her sister had replied coolly that she’d borrowed some money from Maggie Abbot for the new dress she’d bought
     at C & A Modes last week, and with what they’d spent in Ma Boyle’s Oyster Saloon, a shilling was all she had to last her until
     next pay day. Cat had jumped physically at the sound of the slap and Shelagh’s startled yell, for her mother had actually
     slapped Shelagh’s face! Shelagh had thrown the shilling down on the table and had stormed out of the house, pushing past her,
     thrusting her face close and mouthing insults. And she hadn’t come home all night. Cat resolved to go and meet her from work
     next pay day, for that incident had upset her mother so much that she had taken to her bed.
    The following Saturday, late in the afternoon, Mick Cleary staggered up Eldon Street, weaving his way from lamppost to lamppost.
     It was Cat who first saw him as she raised her head after just finishing the task of whitening the front step with donkey-stone.
     It was the last chore of the day and she was hot and tired. She sat back on her heels and pressed her hands into the small
     of her aching back, admiring her handiwork but thinking that by Monday morning it would be as dirty asthe cobbles in the road. Then she looked down the street and saw him.
    From the condition he was in she knew what had happened. It was all too obvious. He’d been sent packing. Sacked. And he’d
     already spent what money he’d been paid off with, for in the first flush of merriment he was always over-generous. He’d probably
     bought drinks for the entire crowd in the pub. Now there would be all hell let loose. Now the only money would be whatever
     Shelagh had left over when she came home – if any! She got to her feet and stood, hands on hips, as she watched him stagger
     on and when he was within reach, she grabbed him by his shirt front and shoved him inside the house. A drunken father was
     nothing new in the neighbourhood and no one would mock or pity her, but that fact didn’t help much.
    She slammed the door and rounded on him. ‘Why, Pa? Why did you keep on drinking? You knew you’d lose your job and you know
     you won’t get another one! There’s a hundred more waiting in line!’
    He muttered something unintelligible and she turned her head away as the smell of whisky and tobacco assailed her nostrils.
     The voices in the kitchen grew louder. Well, she wasn’t going to stand and watch her mother’s face cloud with worry and