Tommy turned and walked away from the sight of Cleary, groaning and crying like a baby on the floor. ‘Oh no she won’t, queen,’ he said to Angela. ‘Your mam will be delighted.’

‘She won’t, Da, she’ll definitely kill you, she will.’

Tommy let out a laugh; for once, his Angela was very wrong.

‘I’ve news, Angela; you are never going back to that school again. Tonight, Liam is taking us to Galway and we will get the train to Dublin and the ferry to Liverpool. We are going home, kids, so go on, get into the back of Liam’s van.’

At that very moment he felt an overwhelming urge to get to his Maura, to take her there and then; he longed for the night to fall when Maura would know just how much of a man he had been and she could show him how grateful she was for protecting their family. There would be no refusals, no excuses, and besides, wasn’t it time for another child anyway? He felt life surge through his veins. They could never replace Kitty, they could never try, but it was time for new life, that was what mattered. They were going home to Liverpool and Tommy would make sure that there would be a new Doherty arriving not long after.

Chapter Fifteen

Malcolm was waiting at the door for Biddy to arrive, holding a telegram in his hand. Mary had left and, in celebration of the news, Malcolm had opened the bottle of rum he took a tipple from last thing at night and had it on the table with two glasses waiting.

‘What the hell is up with you?’ asked Biddy as soon as she saw him standing there. ‘Where’s Mary?’

Malcolm took her coat and handed her the telegram. ‘Here, read this.’

Biddy took the sepia-coloured envelope which, of course, Malcolm had opened without a single tear with his silver knife and she walked towards the kitchen as she read. ‘The Morry has list. Needed repairs. Wink. Home soon. Jerry be Ready. Tell Mam. What in the name of God does any of that mean?’ she asked Malcolm as she looked up.

He began to pour the rum. ‘In truth, Biddy, I have no idea, but I sense it is good news for the four streets, the store cupboards and pantries of the houses and, if I’m not mistaken, there will be rum, knowing Conor. The Morry is sailing in!’ He raised his glass.

‘What is a list?’ asked Biddy as she reached out to take her glass.

‘It’s when a ship has taken on water, or has a badly stored hold, or it has taken on too much cargo.’ Malcolm winked.

‘What’s up with you, winking at me like that?’ asked Biddy. ‘Have you something in your eye?’