by Anna King
He walked on, careful to keep a decent distance between himself and his brothers. And as he walked, his steps slowed hesitantly, and he started to wonder whether this particular fight was going to blow over as easily as they had done in the past. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure of being forgiven; at least not for the foreseeable future. He knew he’d been a right bastard to Shaun, but was comforted by the knowledge that his younger brother wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Pat, on the other hand…
With this in mind, he decided to take the long way home. On the way he stopped for a smoke, leaning against a wall beside an alley that backed on to the row of houses opposite his home. He lit up and took a long, satisfying drag of the cigarette, stretching out the time as long as he could before going home. Standing with one leg bent against the wall, his cap drawn over his eyes, he dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and sighed. There was no point in stalling any longer; he had to face the family sooner or later, so it was best to get it over and done with. Funnily enough, he was more frightened of facing his mother than his brothers. That silent acknowledgement brought a wry smile to his lips.
Stamping on what was left of the smouldering cigarette, Rory’s gaze was caught by a pair of highly polished ladies’ shoes, and without looking up he knew, knew without a shadow of doubt, that it was Cathy.
‘Hello, Rory. Long time, no see. Aren’t you pleased to see me?’
He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It was as if he’d been turned to stone; as if time had stopped. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, yet he remained mute. Desperately he tried to recapture the rage that had been tearing him apart since learning Cathy was back – the same anger he had vented on his loving, hero-worshipping younger brother. Instead he felt a ripple of excitement run through his body at having her so near to him. A heady aroma emanated from her, and somewhere at the back of his mind he realised that what he was smelling was perfume; a wonderful, expensive perfume. He knew it must be expensive for he had never smelt anything as fragrant before. It was certainly nothing like the lavender water his mother and Jane used for special occasions.
‘What’s up, Rory? Anyone would think you were frightened to look at me. You haven’t gone soft while I’ve been away, have you, sweetheart?’
The mocking, throaty laugh brought him sharply out of his stupor, along with the hatred he had nurtured towards Cathy since she had thrown him over for Barney Hobbs, and her subsequent departure a year and a half ago. For he, like his mother, remembered the date vividly.
Slowly, very slowly, he moved his head, his eyes taking in the expensive blue outfit she was wearing – an outfit he would never be able to afford to buy her, or any other woman for that matter. Seconds passed until their eyes made contact, and it was that look in Cathy’s eyes, a taunting, arrogant look, that broke his silence.
‘You’ve got a nerve coming back here like nothing’s happened. What’s the matter, your fancy man chucked you out? At least that’s what I’ve ’eard.’ The words seemed to be forced out of him. ‘Well, you’re not welcome round ’ere, so if I was you I’d piss off again before I do something I regret.’
At the sound of his harsh words Cathy’s confidence faltered, but only for a moment; she was a woman used to getting her own way, especially where men were concerned. Moving her hips in a provocative manner, she replied, ‘You’ve got a high opinion of yourself. What makes you think I’ve come back to see you? As a matter of fact I’m here to see me mum and dad. And despite what you’ve heard, Jonathan hasn’t chucked me out, and he isn’t likely to either. If you must know, he’s gone away on business. In fact he often goes away, he’s an important man. I usually go with him, but I started to get bored. It’s always the same. Dull meetings with stuffy businessmen, and dinner parties with their equally dull wives. So I thought I’d give it a miss this time and take the opportunity to visit my old home – and look up old friends.’
She moved nearer, her lips curving in the inviting smile she had always used when she’d wanted something from him. But this time, instead of inciting desire in Rory, it only served to fuel his building rage. Grabbing her roughly by the arm, he dragged her into the adjoining alley and pushed her against the wall.
‘Leave it, Cathy. Those old tricks of yours are wasted on me. You do remember me, don’t yer? I’m the mug that used to think yer smiles and yer body were reserved only fer me. Christ! I can’t believe I fell for it all. Me only consolation is that Barney Hobbs got the same treatment.’
His breathing was laboured, his stomach churning at being in such close proximity to the woman he had once loved – still loved and wanted. His mind mocked him for his pathetic show of indifference. Yes, he still wanted her, but by God, he wasn’t going to be made a fool of again.
Cathy was watching him intently, her eyes knowing, her smile growing broader. It was dark in the narrow alley, creating a sense of intimacy. She reached out and touched Rory’s hand, and the feel of her sent a jolt of pleasure and excitement coursing through his body; but still he resisted her. Without realising what he was doing, he shook off her warm hand and raised his arm high, the pain and humiliation he had endured suddenly reaching boiling point. But before the back of his hand could make contact with her face, he halted its movement, and there it hung in mid swing before dropping back uselessly by his side.
It was then that he looked at her properly in the dim light. Not at her face, but at the clothes she was dressed in. Even in the poor light he could tell the quality of the blue outfit she was wearing. His eyes travelled down once more to the leather shoes peeping out from the hem of the full skirt. He knew that such footwear would cost him more than a week’s wages; and that simple piece of knowledge reminded him painfully of his inadequacies. If that wasn’t bad enough, an image of Mrs Guntrip now rose before his eyes. He could almost hear her scathing remarks concerning his menial job; a job, she had added spitefully, that could be done by any imbecile. But Josie hadn’t minded what job he did; she would still have loved him if he’d worked down the sewers.
‘Go on, Rory. Give me a slap if it’ll make you feel better. It’s no more than I deserve. Go on, hit me.’
Cathy’s voice broke into his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear the images of Josie and her dead mother from his mind, he now focused his eyes on Cathy’s face. Because of the poor lighting in the alley he couldn’t see her features clearly, but he didn’t have to. Her face was ingrained on his brain. The dark blue eyes, the full, inviting lips, the contours of her body and the waist-length hair that had always reminded him of spun gold were vivid in his mind’s eye.
They were no more than a few inches apart now, and Rory could feel the heat generating from Cathy’s body, smell her perfume and recall the sensation of his lips on hers, and he knew he was lost. Yet still he struggled against the pull of her nearness, even though he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
‘Why me? Why not Barney? After all, yer did dump me for him, didn’t yer?’
Cathy relaxed. She had him, just as she’d known she would. She had a whole month before Jonathan returned from his business trip, and she meant to make the most of his absence. She had no intention of leaving the besotted man; she’d become too used to living the life of the rich to go back to being poor. But she missed the intense lovemaking she’d experienced with Rory. Barney Hobbs, for all his good looks, hadn’t come anywhere near in that department. For the past year she’d had to endure the attentions of a pot-bellied, middle-aged man, and she yearned for the closeness of a firm, muscular male body next to hers. There had been no shortage of willing young men who would have been only too happy to oblige her, but she had resisted the temptation. Not out of loyalty to Jonathan, but for her own self-preservation. The circle she and Jonathan lived in was a small one, and she wasn’t about to risk being caught with another man.
There was another reason she had come back home, a reason she wouldn’t admit even to herself. She was still in love with Rory, inasmuch as a woman of her nature cou
ld love anybody, even though that love wasn’t enough to make her throw her new life away. Now she was only a breath away from the man she had dreamed of this past year, and she found herself dropping her nonchalant demeanour. A demeanour she had adopted on the off chance Rory would reject her; if that had happened, at least she wouldn’t have had to suffer the humiliation of being rebuffed.
Her voice soft now, she said, ‘I’ve missed you, Rory. Barney Hobbs never meant anything to me. It’s you I want, what I’ve always wanted. I know I treated you badly, and I’m truly sorry. But I’ve always wanted nice things. I was sick of living from hand to mouth, so I found a man who could give me what I wanted. I’m not proud of what I am, but I can’t change my nature. Now it’s up to you. If you really don’t want to see me again, I promise I’ll keep out of your way. You just say the word and I won’t bother you again.’
Rory didn’t speak, didn’t move. Did he want her? God forgive him, he wanted her more than life itself. Yet could he take the chance of rejection again? his mind asked of him, and the answer was a resounding no. But had he the strength to reject the opportunity to be with her again, even if it was only for a short while? Again the answer was no.
With bated breath Cathy watched Rory’s silent struggle. Up until this moment she hadn’t realised just how much she wanted him. The seconds ticked by until, unable to bear the silence any longer, she said, ‘Is it Josie? Or should I say old iron knickers. Have you gone back to her? If you have, then…’
Now Rory did move, and with a swiftness and anger that startled her.
‘You leave Josie outta this, you bitch. She’s worth a dozen of you.’
‘Then what you doing still here with me, if that’s how you feel? Go on, bugger off. I ain’t ever begged for a man in me life. I ain’t gonna start now.’
‘You’re right there, I will bugger off.’ He uttered a harsh laugh. ‘I can see the high life ain’t improved your grammar. Yer better watch yer don’t slip back ter your old way of talking in front of your posh friends. I don’t think they’d be very impressed, do you?’ He made to walk away. ‘Go an’ find yerself another mug. Perhaps Barney Hobbs will oblige you while you’re here; he never was that fussy.’
Staring at Rory’s back in disbelief, Cathy was struck dumb. She had been so sure he would take her back, even if only for a short time. Then she moved. Catching hold of his arm, she hissed, ‘All right, I will. And while we’re lying in bed, I’ll give him your best wishes, shall I? I’m sure he’ll be—’
A soft scream of pain spurted from her lips as Rory, with a twist of his wrist, pulled her hand from his arm and sent her reeling against the wall. He watched as she fought to stop herself from falling on to the cold ground and in an instant he had her in his arms, holding her close, muttering, ‘Oh God! I’m sorry, Cathy. I’m sorry. I don’t care what you’ve done. I tried, I tried so ’ard to ’ate yer, but I can’t.’ Like a man possessed he rained kisses over her face until she lifted her lips to his. And then they were swept away in a world of their own.
Rory’s arms were crushing her body, but Cathy didn’t care. There was something she had deliberately kept from him; and that something would remain a secret for as long as possible. For now she had him back. Nothing else mattered.
Chapter Five
As Annie Flynn approached the Guntrip house she paused, her face lighting up with pleasure at the sound of loud, hearty laughter coming from within. It was a sound that had never been heard while Elsie Guntrip was alive, apart from the early days, when Elsie was able to get out on her own. Then George Guntrip had used those precious times to bring some fun and humour into his little girl’s life.
Annie was about to knock on the front door when she remembered Josie’s words to her at the funeral. It had been the smallest turnout of any funeral Annie had attended; back in Ireland, especially, such an event would have whole streets turning out to pay their respects to the deceased. She had been thinking that very thought when Josie, her eyes dry, had hugged her and asked her to visit as often as possible, adding sadly that Annie had been more of a mother to her than her own had ever been. She had gone on to say that, as family, Annie need never knock at the front door, but should use the back door, and that invitation extended even to the times when Josie was out. For that eventuality she had given Annie a spare set of keys.
Annie was just about to walk round to the back when Ida Black came out into the street. Looking at Annie, the small, thin woman shut her door, then, arching her eyebrows, said snootily, ‘I see you’re going ter see Josie. It’s getting to seem like a second home to you and yer family. Shaun’s never off the doorstep, and now your Jane’s getting just as bad. As fer Josie, pshaw!’ The woman’s eyebrows rose even further. ‘If I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes, I never would ’ave believed it. Nearly all of poor Elsie’s furniture sold fer a few bob ter the rag an’ bone man, and all her clothes bundled up and given ter the Sally Army. I mean ter say, she might ’ave had the decency to ask Elsie’s friends if they’d ’ave liked ter ’ave some sort of memento to remember her by. Now she’s got your Shaun redecorating the whole house. The next thing yer know she’ll be getting ’erself all tarted up and walking the streets looking fer a man; that’s if she hasn’t got her claws into your Shaun yet. I’d do something about it before it goes too far if I was you.’
‘Oh, would ye now?’ Annie bridled, her blue eyes dark with anger. ‘Well, Mrs Black, I think ’tis a wondrous sight to see Josie happy after what she’s had to put with all these years. An’ you’ve a nerve on you, talking about Elsie like she was your best friend. Sure an’ ye never had a good word to say about the woman while she was alive, so don’t go getting all sentimental now she’s gone – may the Lord have mercy on her soul.’ Annie crossed herself involuntarily. ‘And as for wanting something of hers to remember her by, huh! Go tell that one to the next flying pig you see. You’re just plain jealous at seeing all those good pieces of furniture and clothes go without having the opportunity to get your greedy hands on some of them.’
Hitching up her ample breasts, Annie turned her back, afraid she’d say something else she might regret later. She knew better than anyone what she was like when her dander was up; and by God, that woman back there was lucky she was still standing after what she had said concerning Josie and her family.
She hadn’t gone more than a few steps before Ida Black, her own temper roused, shouted after the retreating back, ‘So, I’ve got a nerve, ’ave I?’ She sniffed disdainfully. ‘I wouldn’t be a bit surprised ter find out some of those bits of furniture ’ave found their way ter yer ’ouse; an’ as fer poor old Elsie making Josie’s life a misery, I seem ter remember your precious Rory dumping her like a sack of old rubbish fer the first little tart that came along.’
Annie stopped abruptly, her short, plump figure rigid with anger, and Ida Black, already regretting her outburst, retreated backwards, not willing to take her eyes off the woman who was already turning to face her. The sheer rage in the steely blue eyes brought a shiver of fear down Ida Black’s spine. She continued to walk backwards as Annie advanced on her.
‘Now ’ang on, Annie, I didn’t mean what I said… All right, all right, I’m sorry.’ Her voice, rising now, was beginning to attract attention. ‘Look, Annie, I’ve said I’m sorry—’
A scream burst from Ida’s lips as Annie’s heavy hand landed a stunning slap across her face. The skinny woman was sent reeling as doors began to open, and curious eyes focused on the scene taking place on their doorsteps. Within minutes the street was filled. One man, holding the remains of a pork chop between greasy fingers, remarked, ‘Bleeding ’ell! Fancy picking a fight with Annie Flynn; I wouldn’t wanna take ’er on. She’s got ’ands on ’er bigger than a navvy,’ before going back indoors.
Unaware of the growing audience, Annie moved forward menacingly.
‘Talk about my family like that, would ye! ’Tis lucky for you I’m a God-fearing woman, so it is, else I’d skelp the skin off your mangy back
side an’—’
‘Mum, Mum, pack it in. You’ve got the whole street out.’ Shaun had appeared and was trying to hold on to his enraged mother, a broad smile splitting his face in two. He knew only too well what the feel of his mother’s hand was like; he’d been on the receiving end of it more than once, though to be fair to Annie, on those occasions he’d deserved it. ‘Come on, Mum, come inside and calm down a bit.’ His arms tightened around Annie’s shoulders, every muscle in his body straining to keep a hold on her.
‘Will ye let go of me, man. There’s still a few home truths I’ve to say to that evil-minded bitch.’
The sound of a swear word coming from his mother’s lips so startled Shaun that his grip on her slackened. In all of his twenty-two years he had never heard his mother swear; his father, yes, though only on rare occasions after he’d had a drink, and most certainly never in front of his wife.
Annie too was shocked. She abhorred swearing in any form, but accepted it from the mouths of men. But for a woman… she had acted like some common fishwife, and the knowledge brought a feeling of shame on to her bowed shoulders.
‘All right, son. I’ve had me say, but I’ll not be apologising for me actions. Now let go of me, ye great gormless eejit.’
