by Anna King
‘Don’t worry, Dad. We know what we’re doing,’ Rory called out with more confidence than he was feeling. ‘You and Shaun stay where you are. Once we’ve finished this one, we can do the other two from outside.’
Gently now, Rory and Pat dismantled the walls, working quietly and as quickly as they dared. They were just finishing the last wall when they felt a tremor from above.
‘Bleeding ’ell! I don’t like the sound or feel of that,’ Rory said, his head raised upwards. Pat too looked up.
‘Nah! Me neither. What say we get outta here while we’re still in one piece? If we knock the bottom two from outside, it’ll bring this one down with it. Even if it doesn’t, it won’t be any use now.’
Gingerly, they began to edge their way out of the room. Watching anxiously from outside, Paddy and Shaun breathed a sigh of relief as they saw the two men emerge from the third-floor landing.
Then all hell broke loose. Behind them Paddy and Shaun heard a loud commotion and turned, their hearts skipping a beat at the sight of a group of wild-eyed men brandishing sticks and poles, racing towards them. Before they could defend themselves, they found themselves shoved aside as the men raced inside the building.
Stunned momentarily, neither man could speak, then Shaun was running after the men, shouting, ‘Get away, you fools. You’ll bring the whole lot down on yer ’eads if yer don’t get out now.’
Paddy looked wildly around for some kind of help; instead he saw Robert Hunter standing by the hut, his face like thunder. Quickly now, Paddy ran across the site, babbling, ‘You’ve got to get those men out. That whole side’s about to come down, and…’
Robert Hunter glared at the older man with distaste.
‘I know only too well what’s happened, you old fool. Those sons of yours have deliberately sabotaged my property. I’ve already sent for the police. I intend to have them arrested and charged—’
At that moment a carriage galloped into the site, and Robert Hunter’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his father jump down from the carriage before it had come to a halt. Then he was striding towards his son, looking angrier than Robert had ever seen him, and instinctively he stumbled back, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the stinging blow his father brought down across his face.
‘Get out. Get out of my sight, or so help me, I’ll not be responsible for my actions.’
Knowing he was beaten, Robert tried valiantly to summon together a few shreds of respect. Drawing himself upright, he was annoyed to hear the tremble in his voice as he spoke. He had to clear his throat twice before he was able to say his piece.
‘Look here, Father, I—’
Matthew Hunter raised his walking stick threateningly.
‘So help me God, if you don’t get out of my sight this instant, you’ll be eating your food through a straw. Now piss off, you worthless piece of shit. From this moment on you’re no son of mine.’
Robert knew there was no point in arguing any further. Besides which, he was becoming very frightened. His father did indeed look capable of murder. He’d go to Mother; she’d take him in and help him.
He was walking away when his father’s voice stopped him.
‘If you’re thinking of running back to your mother, you’ll be wasting your time. She’s just as disgusted with you as I am. You’re on your own, Robert, completely alone. May God have mercy on you, because no one else will.’
Paddy had listened impatiently, his only thought for his sons, who were fighting in a building that was about to collapse at any minute. Pulling at Matthew Hunter’s arm, he pleaded, ‘Please, Mister Hunter. Me lads are in there. They were about to come out when that bunch of thugs barged in brandishing sticks and heaven knows what other weapons they might be carrying. Please, for the love of God, get my lads out, sir… Please.’
Matthew Hunter patted Paddy’s hand.
‘Don’t you fret, Mister Flynn. I’ll soon have that rabble off my property.’
Giving Paddy’s shoulder a rub of reassurance, he was off running towards the partly demolished building.
Paddy watched him go, then he too was running, running like he’d never run before, fear for his sons giving strength to his tired legs.
Matthew Hunter was standing in the entrance of the flats. At the top of his voice, he yelled, ‘You lot hired by my son, get out of there before you get yourselves killed. Your employer has taken to his heels, so you won’t be receiving any payment from him. If you come out now, I’ll pay each man five pounds, and promise not to involve any of you in any police action.’
Before he’d finished talking, three shabby, dirty men had come to the bottom landing, their eyes shifty.
‘Let’s see the money then, mister.’
Matthew reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of notes. Immediately the men’s eyes changed. Matthew noted the look and said casually, ‘In case you’ve any thought of stealing this money, I feel obliged to warn you that the police are already on their way. In fact, I do believe I can hear them arriving.’ Then his voice hardened. ‘Get the rest of those thugs out right now, or I’ll have you arrested and you’ll not see a penny of this money.’
One of the men shouted, ‘Come on, lads. On yer toes, the law’s on its way.’ Then came the sound of a scuffle as four more men ran from the building. Without a word they grabbed the wad of notes in Matthew Hunter’s hand and fled.
‘Thank the Lord! Jasus, but I thought me boys were going to die for sure.’
Walking nearer, Paddy called, ‘Come on, lads. Ye can come out now. Mister Hunter’s back,’ but there was no answer, and Paddy’s stomach lurched in fear. ‘C’mon now. ’Tis no time for your shenanigans.’
Still there was no sound. Paddy cast a desperate look at Hunter, then both men were inside the building.
‘Pat, Rory, Shaun, any of yous, answer me.’ Paddy’s voice was desperate.
A shower of dust fell on the two men, then the building started to sway. But it was the sound of falling masonry that turned their blood cold. Paddy hesitated for only a moment, then he was running up the rotten stairs, calling out for his sons.
Matthew Hunter knew there was nothing he could do on his own. But he knew where to find men, good, willing men to help.
* * *
Rory lay on the dust-covered floor, coughing the dirt and dust from his throat. He went to sit up then fell back as a pain like fire shot through his side.
‘Pat! Shaun! Are yer all right?’ There was a moment’s silence, during which Rory held his breath in fear, then he heard Pat’s voice.
‘Yeah, I’m ’ere all right. Though I don’t know what shape I’m in. Those bastards gave me a right thumping.’ He too tried to sit up and groaned. ‘Still, I don’t care if me liver’s ’anging out, I ain’t going back into ’ospital. Hang on, where’s Shaun?’
Rubbing the powdered dust from their eyes, they peered around the room, a collective sound of relief coming to both their lips as they saw their brother leaning against a wall in the corner.
‘Shaun, yer all right, mate?’
‘Yeah! I think so,’ came Shaun’s voice, but it sounded very weak.
‘Come on, we’ve gotta get out of ’ere. The bloody lot’s gonna cave in at any moment.’
With a supreme effort, the three battered and bruised men got unsteadily to their feet. Clinging on to each other for support, they had made it out on to the landing when they heard their father calling them. Then his footsteps could be heard running up the stairs.
With all the strength he had left, Rory screamed, ‘Get back, Dad! Get back!’ but the warning came too late.
Desperate to reach his sons, Paddy was crashing his way up the shaky staircase. As he reached the penultimate step, the rotten wood gave way. Instinctively Paddy reached for the banister, but that too was rotten. As he fell, he looked up at his sons and heard them scream out his name. Then there was an almighty noise such as he had never heard, or ever would again.
Chapter Twenty-One
/> ‘Holy Mary! Sure and what ails ye, Jane? ’Tis the fourth time you’ve been to the closet in the past hour. And ye were sick this morning an’ all. You’re definitely coming down with something. Look, get yerself off home and into bed. I’ll call for the doctor on me way home.’
Jane sat in the hot kitchen, her face pale and drawn.
‘I’m all right, Mum, stop fussing, please.’
‘Fussing indeed.’ Annie turned to Josie and pleaded, ‘Will ye tell her, love? Maybe she’ll take more notice of you… Oh, Lord! Table three’s shouting for their dinners. Look, stay here with Josie while I take these through… Try and talk some sense into her, Josie. Oh, all right, keep your hair on, I’m coming. Jasus! You’d think they hadn’t eaten for days,’ she shouted as she left the kitchen.
Josie gave the Irish stew a further stir to stop it coagulating, then, wiping her hands slowly, she leaned against the Butler sink and asked quietly,
‘You got something you wanna tell me, Jane?’
Jane shook her head.
Josie stared at the bowed head, her stomach churning. If it was any other girl, Josie would have guessed what was troubling her; and Annie would have spotted it straight away. But this was Jane, naïve, innocent Jane. But still…
Realising Jane wasn’t going to confide in her, and afraid that if her fears were true the young girl might do something silly, she said straight out, ‘You pregnant, Jane?’
The effect of Josie’s words was startling. Jane’s normally pale skin turned absolutely white, as if every drop of blood had been drained from her; even the scarlet birthmark had turned pink. Her entire body shaking now, Jane lifted her head and looked through blurred eyes at Josie.
‘What am I going to do, Josie?’
Even though she had expected the answer, still Josie was stunned by the revelation. It didn’t seem possible. Not Jane. The girl was staring at her with huge blue eyes that seemed to fill the tiny face, eyes filled with fear, looking to her best friend for help; and Josie was lost for words. Despite her relatively senior years, she was as much in the dark about pregnancy as Jane was. There was only one person who could help Jane out of the mess she’d landed herself in, and that person was the one she feared telling the most. Another question entered Josie’s mind. Who could be the father? Jane scarcely ever went out on her own, especially not at night. And even if she had, she wasn’t the type of girl to give herself to just any man who happened along; not unless…
Hurrying now, Josie pulled up a chair next to Jane. Watching the door for Annie, she asked quietly, ‘Did someone attack you, love?’
Jane shook her head miserably.
‘No! No, I wasn’t attacked, at least, not the way you think.’
Josie’s eyes squinted at Jane in puzzlement.
‘What d’yer mean? You either was attacked or yer wasn’t; which is it?’
Jane wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
‘It’s…it’s a bit complicated, Josie… Oh, Josie, what am I going to do? Me mum will kill me when she finds out,’ she wailed. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh… oh no, I’m going to be sick again.’ Leaping to her feet, she rushed outside to the closet, just as Annie came bustling back, her arms filled with dirty plates.
‘It’s getting busy out there, Josie love… Where’s Jane gone now?’ she asked, exasperated.
Keeping her back to Annie, Josie said lightly, Where she’s been all morning. Look, she’d be better off at home. We can manage without her for today, can’t we? After all, she’s not—’
A sudden loud babble of voices from the tea room made both women jump.
‘What the bleeding ’ell…?’ Josie gasped, her heart beginning to race with fear without knowing why.
Following Annie, she hurried through to the tea room, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of all the men running out into the street, leaving their meals half eaten, the knives and forks thrown down on the checked tablecloths.
‘What’s happened? What’s going on?’ Josie ran, grabbing one of the men at the door.
The man’s eyes darted from Josie to Annie, obviously uncomfortable at being the one to impart bad news. Eager to get away, he looked to Josie, his eyes sympathetic, and said gruffly, ‘Look, don’t get yerself in a state, but there’s been an accident on the building site. I don’t know how bad it is, no one does until we get there. I’ve gotta get off, Josie love… Like I said, don’t worry…’ The man’s voice trailed off as he realised the inaneness of his words. Taking advantage of Josie and Annie’s shocked reaction, he made his escape.
Josie stood rooted to the spot as the impact of the man’s words sank in. Then an anguished cry brought her back to her senses.
‘Mother of God! Me lads, all me lads, and Paddy. They’re all working today.’
Ashen-faced, Annie tore off her apron, her gnarled hands trembling. Several women who had been enjoying a cup of tea and a cake after doing their morning shopping quickly came to her side.
‘There, there, Annie love. It might not ’ave anything to do with your men. Why don’t you ’ave a cuppa an’—’
Distraught, Annie threw off the comforting hands.
‘Sure an’ how d’ye know it’s not my men, can ye tell me that?’
The women avoided Annie’s question and exchanged glances, wanting to help, yet not knowing how.
‘What’s going on?’ All heads turned as Jane wandered into the empty tea room, her eyes wary.
It was the sound of Jane’s voice that stung Josie into action. Without preamble, she took hold of the girl’s arm and sat her down.
‘There’s been an accident at the building site, love. The men ’ave gone to see if they can ’elp. Me and your mum are gonna go and see what’s ’appened. You stay ’ere with these ladies; they’ll look after you, till we get back. You will, won’t yer?’ she appealed to the hovering women.
‘Yeah, course we will, love.’ They spoke almost as one.
Jane struggled in Josie’s grasp.
‘No, I want to come with you. I want to see if my dad and brothers are all right. Let go of me, Josie.’
Josie tightened her grip. Leaning forward so their noses were almost touching, she said as calmly as she could manage, ‘Look, Jane. There’s nothing yer can do. You ain’t well, and yer mum won’t ’ave time to look after you – understand?’
Her lips trembling, Jane stared back at Josie and nodded.
Straightening up, Josie fetched Annie’s shawl and wrapped it around the plump shoulders.
‘Come on, Annie. Let’s go and see for ourselves. The worst part is not knowing. They’re probably all safe and sound; we’ve just gotta keep calm, all right?’
Annie nodded dumbly. She couldn’t think, couldn’t talk; all she could do was pray silently. Josie was by her side, holding her arm, talking in a soothing voice, but Annie didn’t hear a word. All she could hear was the silent prayer going round and round in her head.
Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord be with ye. Blessed art thou amongst women, and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death, Amen.
* * *
The building site was a hive of frantic activity. There were two ambulance carts and a police wagon at the gates, and a line of men covered in dust carefully sifting through a small mountain of rubble. This was bad enough, but what really brought the enormity of the situation home to Annie and Josie was the eerie silence that pervaded the site. Holding on to each other for support, they spoke briefly to the police officer standing guard and were immediately let through.
‘Mother of God!’ Annie breathed, her voice little more than a whisper.
Josie felt as if she was suffocating. She let her eyes roam over all the men present, hoping and praying to see a familiar face. But even under all the dirt and grime, she knew that if one of them had been one of the Flynn men, she would have recognised him; and although some of the faces were familiar from frequenting the tea
shop, none of them resembled the men she was searching for.
‘It’s all right, Annie… it’s all right…’ she mumbled helplessly, not knowing what to do or say.
Somebody brought chairs for them to sit on, then mugs of tea were being put into their hands. And they gratefully accepted both, but as if in a dream. None of it seemed real. Reality was suspended, as it had to be, else they wouldn’t have been able to stop from screaming out their fear and frustration. So they just sat still, staring at the line of men searching the rubble, each of them wrapped in their own anguish and misery.
Then a man was striding towards them, his steps purposeful, and both women’s hearts skipped a beat.
‘Mrs Flynn?’ he addressed Annie.
Her mouth dry, Annie had to run her tongue over her stiff lips before she could answer.
‘Aye, yes, I’m Mrs Flynn.’ She stared at the man, some part of her mind noting his fine clothes beneath the layers of dust.
‘I’m Matthew Hunter, Mrs Flynn. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what has happened. Believe me, everything is being done to get your husband and sons out unharmed.’
His words made Annie flinch; it was as if he had done the unthinkable. He had put into words what her heart and mind had been denying since the moment she had heard of the accident.
Matthew Hunter saw her reaction and hung his head. This was all his fault. When he had learned that his wife planned to whisk him off for a cruise to recuperate, he had instructed his solicitor, from his hospital bed, to draw up a contract giving Pat the authority to continue running the business in his absence. The document had been signed by himself and witnessed by his doctor; all Robert had had to do was get Pat to sign the contract, which Matthew had no doubt the man would do willingly, and return it to the solicitor. He should have known his son would have ignored his request, but at the time he had honestly thought Robert was too spineless to defy him. He must have known he would be found out. Which was why he had tried to line his pockets while he could. And because of Matthew’s assumption that his son would follow his orders, the entire Flynn family were now buried under the pile of rubble that had been meant for honest families to move into. Homes that no builder worth his salt would ever have sanctioned for habitation.
