The Four Streets Saga

by Nadine Dorries

  She blinked. Bernadette left, leaving Nellie alone again.

  Maura, timorously, began to speak.

  ‘Kitty, we have a problem, child, and it is something we need to talk about and sort out before we tell Daddy. He will be distraught when I tell him the news and so we must be well prepared, so we must.’

  Maura began to cry. She was never going to get through this.

  Her Kitty. Maura had dreamt of her daughter taking the veil. Kitty, who was like another mother in the house, so good was she with all the little ones. With two sets of twin boys, Maura found life hard and Kitty had eased her burden by half.

  But Maura wasn’t selfish. She didn’t want to keep Kitty to herself. She wanted to share her with God and thereby elevate the status of the Doherty household above that of her neighbours. Maura craved status; in fact she craved anything that would reward the family for her endeavours. She longed to be looked up to and, indeed, many a less holy neighbour already did look up to Maura. If there was a problem on the streets it was Maura or Nana Kathleen they went to. But that wasn’t enough. Maura wanted one of the Doherty clan to do something, to be someone. She yearned for her household to be set above and apart from the others. What could achieve this more than having a child become a nun or a priest?

  She had prayed about sharing her children with God. About giving God back some of the issue with which she and Tommy had been blessed.

  Kitty had been shared with God.

  Just not in the way Maura had prayed for.

  Maura knew that what she now struggled to say to Kitty flew in the face of every motherly instinct. Earlier in the day she had questioned Kathleen.

  ‘Once I have spoken those words, there will be no going back, Kathleen. Are we sure?’

  ‘Aye, Maura, we are sure, queen. I wish to God we weren’t and I have prayed that every day you would run up this entry to tell me Kitty was started, but you haven’t. There is no use us putting it off any longer or denying it: the child is with child, God help us, so she is.’

  Now that they were here and the time had come, Maura lacked the strength to speak. Her mouth felt as though it were stuffed full of wool and the words she had rehearsed so well were lodged somewhere deep in her throat. The tears began to pour uncontrollably down her cheeks.

  Everyone round the table stared at her expectantly, but she couldn’t make out their alarmed expressions as their faces swam in a blurred haze through her tears.

  Maura was weak. She was lost. Events had knocked the stuffing right out of her and she was as close to done for as it was possible to be.

  Nana Kathleen decided it was time to take over. Twenty years older than Maura, Kathleen had also been crushed by events but it was not her daughter who was about to suffer. They were her closest friends facing a problem to which there was almost no answer.

  Nellie sensed something utterly catastrophic was about to take place.

  Had they all stopped breathing? They had. They had.

  Fear gradually wrapped its icy tendrils around Nellie’s heart and slithered down into the pit of her stomach. Under the table, she slipped a hand across and met Kitty’s, searching for her own.

  For a heartbeat of a moment, a drumroll of domesticity filled the silent kitchen.

  Maura’s gentle sniffling into her hankie.

  The click of Alice’s knitting needles.

  The tick-tock from the clock and the slow, repetitive drip from the tap pinging onto an enamel bowl in the sink.

  As the coal burnt in the fireplace, it hissed and spat in accompaniment to the slow bubbling simmer of a pan of broth, warming on the range.

  Kitty looked at Nana Kathleen and knew that whatever she was about to say had something to do with the night the priest had raped her in her hospital bed. Nothing had been the same since. Then, after years of abusing her, he had elevated his depravity to a new level and was about to do it again in her own bedroom when all were at the Irish centre and dancing at a wedding. But Nana Kathleen had caught him and then the priest was found murdered. He had never bothered her again.

  Kitty had been stunned by the reaction of her da. She thought he was going mad with the rage. Tommy, normally mild-mannered and gentle and who loved them all to distraction, had been torn apart by the knowledge that the priest had been helping himself to his precious daughter, in his own house.

  The man they had trusted above all others – the Holy Father of the community, whom everyone revered as though he were God himself – had abused their trust. And Tommy, whose only job was to protect and provide for his family, had let down his first-born and closest in a way he could never have imagined, not in his very worst nightmares.

  Just when Kitty had thought the horrors of the past were about to fade, she had now begun to throw up every morning and most of the day.

  Kitty really couldn’t remember normal any more.

  Kathleen found the words hard. Kitty was still only fourteen but she looked just twelve and, sure, wasn’t that the reason Kitty and Nellie got on so well? Kitty was still an innocent little child, hesitant to embrace her teenage years, while Nellie, having faced adversity at such a young age, was older and wiser than most.

  ‘Kitty, my lovely one,’ said Kathleen in a soft voice.

  She rubbed the top of Kitty’s hand, a thin, pale hand of innocence, held in a plump, warm hand of wisdom.

  Kathleen raised her gaze and looked her straight in the eye.

  She wanted Kitty to fully understand each and every word she was about to say. There was no room for ambiguity once it was spoken out loud.

  All eyes rested on Nana Kathleen.

  Kitty waited. Mouth open. Licked dry lips. Heart beating.

  Tense expectancy cast a spell and drew them in closer.

  ‘Kitty, we have to tell ye important news, my darlin’. Ye need to know now. We cannot keep this in the dark any longer. Yer mammy and I, we are very sure ye is having a babby.’

  She held Kitty’s hand more tightly.

  ‘Ye is pregnant with the priest’s child and we have to decide what we are going to do about it.’

  All eyes were on Kitty and silently they witnessed the moment when her childhood died.

  ‘No,’ she screamed loudly, as she dropped Kathleen’s and Nellie’s hands, pushing the chair away and staggering backwards towards the range – desperately needing to put as much space as she possibly could between herself and what Kathleen had said.

  Space, so that the words would not touch her, but would fall to the floor and shatter before they reached her. Space, to protect and save her.

  But the words had been spoken. They were crawling all over her, already inside her, screaming in her head, piercing her heart.

  It was too late. No escape. She had become what the words had made her.

  ‘A baby? Oh God, Mammy, no, not me. I can’t!’ She looked to Maura with her hand outstretched.

  And then they all died a little as Kitty howled with both her hands clutching at her abdomen as though testing to see if Kathleen were telling the truth.

  Everyone in the room began to cry, even Alice.

  But Kitty knew. As the words slowly filtered deeper and settled into place, she knew. She had seen Maura and other women on the street in the same situation often enough. Her mind was recoiling. Her heart sank and the fight, which had quickly flared up in her, took its leave and left.

  It was true. Really, she already knew.

  Within seconds, Maura was at her side, shaken out of her stupor by Kitty’s distress. Her child needed her.

  Kitty made a sound like that of an animal in pain as they stood and rocked together, Maura absorbing Kitty’s agony, holding her upright.

  Kitty, in her torment, provided Maura with a reason not to fall apart.

  Nellie hadn’t moved from her chair and had begun to cry quietly to herself, stunned by the news and shedding her own tears for the loss of Kitty’s childhood.

  Alice had jumped up and was making another pot of tea while Kathle
en began washing the pots in the sink. Ordinary tasks, ushering normality back into the room.

  Kathleen could hear Joseph stirring in the large box Maura used as a baby basket. Kitty’s crying had woken him. Time to put things back on an even keel, she thought, as she watched Alice pick him up to change his nappy. Now, as she dried the wet cups and saucers, Kathleen felt a sense of relief that Kitty now knew.

  Kathleen had won at the bingo twice this month. The money had been placed straight into the bread bin with the money she was paid for reading the tea leaves at her kitchen table on a Friday morning.

  She was not short of money. Joe had been a clever and hard-working farmer and they had done well, because they were careful and had saved. Now Kathleen spoke again.

  ‘Sit down now, Kitty,’ she said kindly. ‘Nothing can alter the facts, but we have to find a way to deal with them.’ She gestured towards a chair at the kitchen table. ‘Ye may be pregnant, Kitty, but really, ’tis our problem too. We will sort it and don’t ye worry about a thing. This is one for the grown-ups.’

  Kitty’s crying subsided and an expression of desperate gratitude flooded her face.

  ‘Maura, pull yourself together now. It could be worse, the child isn’t dying.’

  Kathleen knew the worst was over. Now they had to plan.

  Nellie jumped up to help her nana and put the teapot on the table. Alice had Joseph in her arms. His little face lit up at the sight of Nellie and Kitty, now sitting next to each other at the kitchen table, with Nellie’s arm round Kitty’s shoulders.

  Alice walked over to the range to fetch Joseph’s bottle, which she had placed to warm on a range shelf. She pulled up her sleeve and shook the milk onto her bare elbow to test it was the right temperature and then sat amongst them to feed him.

  The atmosphere was subdued. The only noise was the sound of Joseph sucking and the snuffles of his blocked nose.

  Kathleen began to talk.

  ‘Kitty, I have an idea if ye can just hear me out. I don’t think we should tell the men just yet. I don’t think we should tell anyone. What we need is some time to think about how we are going to manage this. What about if I take you and Nellie away back home to Ireland to the farm for a little holiday and try to think of a plan from there? What do ye think, girls? Would ye like that? We can go when the school breaks up for the holiday in a couple of weeks.’

  Amazingly, both the girls smiled. Even Kitty. The excitement of a holiday together had for a few seconds wiped out the shock of Kitty’s pregnancy.

  Kitty had never had a holiday. It would be her first.

  ‘Let’s run upstairs now,’ whispered Nellie to Kitty. Nellie had visited the farm many times. She wanted to share every detail with Kitty, in private.

  ‘Holy Mother, Kathleen, would ye look at them smiling,’ said Maura. ‘It’s a fairground ride of emotions all right.’

  Alice began to pack up the pram. She had her own ideas about what to do.

  ‘Have ye thought of an abortion?’ she whispered to Maura and Kathleen, so that the girls upstairs didn’t hear. ‘You can get one easily. The chambermaids at the Grand used to go to a woman on Upper Parliament Street.’

  No sooner had the words fallen from her lips than Alice felt bad. When first pregnant with Joseph, she had visited the same woman, though she had baulked at the offer of surgery. She had witnessed some of the chambermaids return to work in agony and be laid up for days. One girl had been taken into the Northern hospital after having an abortion and had never been seen again. Alice had no idea what had happened to her, but she knew she had been very ill. That was the old Alice.

  The Alice who couldn’t have cared less.

  Alice, shamefully, had taken various concoctions and potions. But to no avail. Joseph was determined to make his entrance and look at him now. None of them could remember life before he had arrived.

  However, this was different. Kitty was a child, and Kathleen was right. Her growing belly was a danger to them all.

  Maura turned pale at the mere mention of the word abortion. Maura, who had wanted her daughter to become a nun, was now having to discuss whether or not Kitty should commit the biggest mortal sin imaginable, that of taking a life.

  A second life.

  A second murder.

  My God, what and who had they become?

  ‘Do ye think I want two murderers in the family, Alice? Do ye not think one is enough?’ she hissed back coldly. The old animosity between Alice and Maura was never far from the surface.

  Neither of them could quite forget the closeness there had been between Maura and Bernadette.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Alice. ‘It just seemed like a good idea to me. And a quick solution too.’

  ‘Aye, well, I think not. It only seems a good idea to you, Alice, because ye don’t have the faith. No abortionist is sticking a dirty coat-hanger up my daughter. That’s the path to three lives lost.’

  Maura wanted to stop this loose talk of an abortion as quickly as possible and shouted up the stairs for Kitty to come down.

  Alice looked to Kathleen, who put her finger to her lips.

  The recovery of Alice had been a welcome one, but Kathleen could see that, with each day, her new boldness brought a fresh challenge.

  ‘The offer of a holiday for Kitty is a kind one, Kathleen,’ said Maura, walking back to the table, ‘and one I will accept gratefully.’

  Maura turned to Alice, guilty for her harsh tone a few seconds ago, when she knew how much Alice had done to help them. Alice had done her bit. She was on their side.

  ‘Some way, we will sort this out and, Alice, I know ye think I am wrong, but I can tell ye now, there will be no meat for anyone in this house this week. I’m off to buy some Epsom salts and a bottle of gin. I’ll be trying a few methods of me own.’

  Alice smiled. She couldn’t work out why that would be acceptable, but her suggestion of an abortionist wouldn’t. She had heard that all the girls in Liverpool were doing it.

  Kathleen felt lighter. Despite the reason why, the thought of returning home to Ireland had cheered her. The school holidays couldn’t arrive soon enough, so that she could get on that ferry to Dublin. It wouldn’t have been possible a couple of years ago to leave a baby of Joseph’s age in Alice’s care.

  So much had changed.

  There was also another dimension to the holiday. While they were away it would be the first time Jerry, Alice and the baby had been alone in the house together. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

  Kathleen put on her coat to head home. She would call in at the Anchor pub to use the phone and ring the pub at the back of the butcher’s in Bangornevin. Days ago she had already let them know they would be coming home. Kathleen had known all along that it was the only thing they could do. She just had to convince everyone else.

  They had made the decision to return to Ireland, she felt they had no time to lose and that feeling was exhausting her.

  ‘I know the answers will come to me in me own kitchen,’ she said to Alice. ‘I’ll get everything sorted from there. Just a few weeks to wait.’

  Nellie and Kitty were now standing next to Alice, stroking baby Joseph’s feet whilst he bounced up and down on Alice’s hip. Nellie was now comfortable in Alice’s company. A miracle, considering that, only a few years ago, Nellie had been terrified of her.

  Simon and Howard had finished knocking on all the doors in the four streets and had retired to the car. They both lit a cigarette whilst they drank tea from the thermos flask provided by Howard’s landlady.

  ‘So,’ said Howard, ‘the sister’s magnificent revelation is that the father spent a lot of time in number nineteen and now the eyes and ears of the world, Molly Barrett, tells us Maura Doherty should be knocked out with grief, but she isn’t.’

  ‘Fantastic, solid, wonderful leads. The super will be so pleased,’ Simon replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

  ‘They may not be strong leads, Simon, they may even be weak, but they both come from
different people and both point to the same house. Something is better than nothing and, anyway, was it just me, or do you think the sister was hiding something?’

  ‘Bloody hell, was she?’ Simon replied. ‘She looked like a scared rabbit. Didn’t look me in the eye once, and her hand was shaking, did you notice that?’

  ‘I did. Something or someone had taken the wind right out of her sails in between her calling us at the station and our arrival at the convent.’

  Howard wound down the window of the panda car and shook the remaining contents of his cup out into the gutter, then screwed it back onto the top of the flask.

  ‘Come on then,’ he said to Simon, who was in the process of rolling up a cigarette, ‘let’s knock on number nineteen and give that tree a good shake.’

  Alice covered Joseph with his blanket just as the Doherty kids burst in through the back door, looking for their tea. Maura’s second daughter, Angela, was the first in and began to strop about the fact that Kitty had had yet another day off school. This was nothing new. Angela found a new subject to strop about at least once a day.

  ‘I have had to sit in that classroom with Sister Theresa all day long,’ Angela yelled, pointing at Kitty, and they all stopped dead as they heard a knock on the front door.

  A loud knock. Three long, fierce bangs on the front door. They sent a shiver of fear like a trickle of iced water straight down Maura’s spine.

  Alice had heard the knock before. She knew exactly who it was.

  Even the twins, in the midst of helping themselves to a plate of biscuits, were frozen in mid-raid and looked towards their mother.

  The three knocks came again a second time and made each one of them flinch.

  As deafening and as threatening as a death knell.

  5

  STANLEY WHEELED THE empty oxygen cylinder into place, on the end of a long line of huge spent cylinders waiting for the truck to arrive with full replacements.

  He looked across from the hospital stores entrance to the large door of the kitchens on the other side of the yard to see if Austin was about to emerge. He would have to hurry. Stanley wanted a ciggie and they couldn’t have one here without blowing themselves up.