Annie O’Prey came in through the back door and clapped her hands together. ‘Well, would you look at what the cat’s dragged in!’ she exclaimed.
Maura felt tears spring to her eyes and took a deep breath; she was home, amongst the women of the four streets, and she could not have felt more relieved. The women gathered around her, asking a hundred questions, and one thing was certain: everyone was delighted to see her.
Kathleen clapped her hands. ‘Come on, everyone, there is something more important we have to attend to – Peggy is missing.’
Deirdre laughed out loud. ‘She can’t be missing, she was walking down the street this afternoon with Shelagh’s pram.’
Shelagh frowned. ‘Well, actually, little Paddy came to ours hours ago to see had Peggy brought the pram back and she had, but she just pushed it into the wash house; normally she would have come in and cadged a cuppa at the very least. Little Paddy was very worried, but I told him she’s down the bingo.’
Kathleen shook her head. ‘Our Nellie and I went and checked and I thought maybe she might have gone into town and then I thought how ridiculous that was. She’s only got her slippers. She wouldn’t go on the bus in her slippers.’
‘Come on, everyone, you know the drill,’ said Alice as she began to pour the tea. ‘Put plenty of sugar in your cup so that the leaves stick to the side.’
‘I’ll put a drop of whiskey in too,’ said Kathleen.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Biddy who had arrived last with Mary in her wake. ‘If you can’t find Peggy, where is big Paddy?’
‘Probably in the Anchor. I’m hoping that if we all read the leaves, we will be able to find a clue in the cups.’
Everyone fell quiet and an air of seriousness descended upon the kitchen as they waited for the help they had always turned to during a crisis, or simply to get them through hard times. Kathleen’s reading of the tea leaves had guided each woman in managing even the most difficult problems. An unpaid bill, a sick child, an unwanted pregnancy – all were a way of life in the four streets and Kathleen’s kitchen was open for readings every Friday morning. No one knocked at any other time because they knew they would be turned away.
‘They would be filling my hands with the sixpences every day of the week instead of the kids’ bellies with food,’ Kathleen said to Alice when anyone knocked on the door, begging her to give them a reading because a mammy back home was ill, or a wage-earning brother was up before a magistrate in Dublin.
‘That was a strange turn Peggy took down at the rent office – did Dr Cole say he could do anything?’ asked Biddy as Alice filled her cup.
Kathleen shook her head. ‘He said no bloody chance of helping with anything, other than trying to get Paddy into work and that her nerves were shot to pieces. He wanted…’ Kathleen dropped her voice, ‘to do an internal, down there.’ It rose again. ‘Wanted to check her fibroids to see if they were any worse but she refused. She was desperate to stop Frank the Skank from moving in next door, that’s what’s upset her, but Dr Cole said there was no chance of that, either.’
Kathleen, Maura and Alice exchanged a knowing look. They would not reveal the contents of the letter, would not bring further shame down on Peggy’s head. Between them, they would rescue her. They would pay the rent and retrieve the shoes from the pawnshop.
The air was tense as Maura spoke. ‘I’ve never known Peggy to go anywhere alone; you all know what she’s like, she’d need a bit of company to help her. Has anyone been keeping an eye on her, has she kept up with the bills?’
Alice slipped the knitted tea cosy over the teapot. ‘We’ve been feeding the kids, Maura. Hardly a day goes by when one of us doesn’t do something. Maggie Trott only really bakes for Peggy’s kids.’
Maura took a deep breath, her elation at returning home replaced with concern for Peggy. ‘Say a prayer, ladies, as you drink the tea,’ she said, knowing that her first task tomorrow would be confession, to ask forgiveness for having her tea leaves read.
‘Saint Maura’s definitely home,’ Deirdre whispered to Shelagh as she took her cup and blew and sipped the tea.
Five minutes later Kathleen peered into the row of cups lined up before her. ‘Right, did everyone have two sugars?’ she asked as Mary drained the last drop, watching Biddy to see how it was done. It was the first time Mary had been amongst the women in a reading and she now fully absorbed the solemnity and seriousness of the occasion.
Mary had travelled a long way from the convent to Kathleen’s kitchen via Cindy’s in a very short time. She had fallen in love – and out of it just as fast – and here she was, a new boundary being crossed, having her teacup read.
The assembled women leant in close to the table and nodded their heads.
‘Right then, let’s go. Three swills to the right and make a wish for your family,’ Kathleen said, and all the women picked up their cups and swilled them to the right. ‘Now, three to the left and make a wish for Ireland, then one for Peggy as you tip, with no hesitation whatsoever, the cup upside down into the saucer.’
Silence accompanied the solemn cup-swilling until the clattering sound of upturned cups hitting saucers.
‘Maura’s right, we have to go to confession for this,’
