Peggy had made her way down the Dock Road, pushing the old pram, and went as far as her legs would carry her. She knew there was a pawnshop where she would be unlikely to be seen. No one on the four streets ventured that far down. It was also known as the part of the road where prostitutes plied their trade but what Peggy hadn’t been prepared for was how blatant they were.

She had taken the blankets from the beds, thanking God it was May, and the coats Maura had bought for the children. Hopefully she could buy them back before winter… The blankets were piled up high on the pram, disguising her shame, because it was acceptable on the four streets to pawn blankets in the summer, or ornaments; some even pawned Sunday-best suits and frocks, if they had them, but children’s shoes were deemed to be beyond the pale – only the lowest of the low did that and it was the level to which she had descended. She had taken the shoes from the children’s feet and left her boys at home, crying, desperate to play on the wasteland. Out there, they could forget about groaning bellies; sitting at home with no light and no money for a television, it was all they could think of.

‘It won’t be for long,’ she had said to little Paddy. ‘You need to keep yours, though, because I need you to run messages and help out.’

Little Paddy was relieved but still pleaded on behalf of his brothers. ‘Mam, is there no other way? They can’t go out and play with no shoes on.’

Peggy, her desperation growing, her patience waning, had snapped, ‘Paddy, stop it, would you! I need you to help, not hinder. What choice do I have? Your father didn’t work one full day last week. We’ll get three days’ pay on Friday but I need that for the rent and whatever I can get for the shoes to put with it.’

‘Mam, you said we’d paid the rent!’

Peggy shouted, ‘Shut up, shut up, would you? Just shut up!’ And she’d begun to cry, loud sobs racking her body. Little Paddy was terrified; he had never seen his mother so near despair and he was scared stiff. He’d thought that as his da was out of the house and down on the docks today that she would be happy.

‘Mam? Mam, shall I go and borrow some tea from Shelagh?’ He was desperate to help.

‘No, Paddy,’ she’d said, ‘just do as I ask, that’s all I need for you to do to help me. I know what I’m doing. I’ll find a way to pay the interest and get the shoes back, honest to God, just please, please don’t give me grief.’