‘I’m off to the pub!’ he shouted back over the gate and, as the kitchen door flew open and the words, ‘Oh no you aren’t!’ floated over the wall after him, he was off and around the corner as fast as his legs would carry him.

‘Eric, Eric,’ Gladys hissed down the entry, but the entry was clear and Gladys would never shout in case people heard her. Shouting in public would reduce her to the same level as the women on the four streets, or so she thought.

Eric, heading towards the lights shining from the windows of the Anchor, heard the chorus of noise that escaped onto the street as the door opened and his heart lifted for the first time since his hand had brushed against Maggie Trott’s and Cindy had wrapped him in her cloak of kind words. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and felt the pound notes crinkle beneath his fingers. He had taken them from the money bag and he didn’t care. He thought of Cindy’s words, of Maggie’s hand which had been warm and soft against his own, of the look in her eye, and he swallowed hard.

‘Get a grip, soft lad,’ he said to himself, to calm the nerves in his stomach as he was met by the smell of hops, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. And he felt the invisible cloak of tension that he wore day and night slip from his shoulders as a docker’s voice called out, ‘Well, look who it is! Eric the milky, here for a proper pint, come on in, man, come on in!’

Chapter Twenty-three

Nellie, Angela and Harry returned from Peggy’s, still chattering away, nineteen to the dozen.

‘Oh yes, we did so much fishing – your Uncle Liam took me with him all the time!’ Harry was talking to Nellie who was keen to hear all the news she could about everyone in Ballynevin where she spent two weeks every August with her Nana Kathleen. ‘I held the landing net and he heaved and heaved and he threw a big salmon into it. It was bigger than me. I almost couldn’t stand up!’

Angela thumped him. ‘Stop lying, Harry, you’re better now, you can’t get away with telling your whoppers any more. The salmon was no bigger than your little finger and he only took you the once because you almost fell in.’

Harry looked outraged at Angela’s put-down but had no time to bite back as Maura’s voice broke in. ‘Excuse me, remember where you are, please, and that the little ones are asleep upstairs. Now, is Peggy back then?’

All three shook their heads, their faces solemn. ‘We’ve lit the range in your house, Maura, I got the key from inside the copper boiler,’ said Nellie.