Tommy shook his head. ‘It must be bad if Malcolm has written to you. He was always a quiet one and keeps himself to himself. His da worked for the dock board. That’s how they got that big house over the road from the pub. Good money he earned. What does Kathleen say? Go on, read that one next; she might give us more of a clue what’s going on. Is there news of Jerry? Any wins on the gee-gees? Has he been to the footie? Who’s taken my place in the darts team? Does Jer still think Bill Shankly is the second coming?’
Jerry had been Tommy’s closest friend, a friendship bound closer than brothers by the joint knowledge of a deadly deed. Neither man had ever spoken of the night the priest had been murdered and both were present, but it hadn’t saved poor Kitty – and that was a sin they had to carry, the murderous end of the guilty priest.
Maura sliced open Kathleen’s letter. As usual, she scanned the pages and read it herself before she began to read it out loud. This annoyed Tommy intensely.
‘Go on, read it out, stop reading it to yourself,’ he said.
‘Well, sure this letter has dashed all my hopes that Peggy was doing all right without me. She’s been to Kathleen to borrow money for the kids’ teas a few times and Kathleen and Maggie Trott are feeding them as much as they can. Shelagh has been saying she doesn’t know how they are going to pay the rent because Paddy isn’t getting out of bed half of the time and, Holy Mother of God, the carnival is on its knees. Kathleen says the only person doing anything is Eric; he’s painted the float all nice, but there isn’t a scrap of bunting made.’
Maura slapped the letter in the air. ‘I don’t believe it, it’s all bad news.’ She held it closer to her face. ‘Kathleen has the kids over on a Sunday – she’s doing two sittings, Jerry and Alice, Nellie and Joseph first and then she sends Nellie out to get the Nolans from the wasteland and take them back for a feed. She says they would go all day with nothing but bread and dripping if they didn’t. Oh Tommy, God love them!’ Maura looked upset. ‘Kathleen says she’s praying for the Morry to come in or it will be the worst carnival on the streets for many a year.’
Tommy let out a long whistle. ‘As bad as that? Looks like we did the right thing, getting out when we did.’
Maura looked perturbed and sad as she opened the next letter. She had been looking forward to this hour all day and now she felt nothing but concern for families she knew as well as if they were her own. ‘Let’s hope there is happier news in this one,’ she said as she opened out the sheet of paper. This time she read the contents out loud almost as quickly as she read them to herself.
‘This is from the dock and harbour board asking us to sign the rent book back to them. They can’t do that! The rent is paid in full.’ They had continued to pay rent on the house, even keeping their furniture there. They had moved into the Talk of the Town with all they could carry, intending to send for the furniture, but never quite getting around to it. They were both aware, with the housing shortage in Liverpool, that once they signed over the rent book they would never get the house back and, even though the postal order Maura religiously sent to the dock and harbour board every Friday was money she could have well done with as she watched their windfall deplete, she had been compelled never to miss a week.
‘And I’m not sure we should send the rent book back,’ said Tommy.
‘What, you mean not at all, never? We can’t keep paying rent in a house we don’t live in forever, Tommy. Do you know how much money we have left?’
Tommy shook his head; he never did. Money was a mystery to him. All their married life he had handed his pay packet over to Maura. She had given him his spending money back and they had always had a roof over their head, had never gone hungry as many did, thanks to Maura being an expert manager and lucky down at the bingo. It was a system that had worked well and Tommy hadn’t had any intention of changing it until he took it upon himself to buy the Talk of the Town.
‘We have just over one hundred pounds left from the money we got from America and we made one pound and six shilling’s profit here last week,’ Maura said now.
Tommy felt guilt wash over him and in need of another drink. ‘I’m sorry, queen,’ he said.
‘Don’t you be sorry,’ said Maura. ‘We will turn it all around, you watch. I’m not touching that money, though, Tommy. If we had to leave and go back, it’s all we have. And we may have to make a decision soon, for you can’t keep milking Liam’s cows. That’s not a living.’
They sipped their drinks, searching for a way to justify continuing to pay the rent out of the money they had left. They both knew they couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Maura had never wanted her sons on the docks, but she was glad to keep the house for reasons unprobed and unidentified. Now, neither was willing to admit that they had made the biggest mistake of their lives.
‘They must have got wind that we aren’t living there, Tommy. It says here they prefer the house to be inhabited.’ She folded the letter and placed it back
