Free Pattern of Shadows by Judith Barrow Page B

frosty face if ever I saw one.’
    The sheepish grins evaporated. Bill and Patrick let go of each other’s neck and, holding onto the doorframe, elbowed their way into the room.
    ‘No, you’re wrong, Pa, our Mary won’t lose her temper. She’s a right saint, aren’t you, our kid?’
    Mary didn’t miss the sarcasm, but she didn’t look at her brother. Instead she stared at her father until he flushed and, pushing Patrick to one side, grabbed at a chair and fell on to it, the legs screeching on the floor as he dragged it up to the table. He shoved his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall on to the seat of the chair behind him. ‘Where’s your mother? Why’s my tea not on the table? She knows I’m on duty tonight.’
    ‘Mam’s not feeling too well.’
    ‘What’s up with her then?’
    Mary didn’t answer but she made sure he saw the contempt in her eyes before she turned away. Taking one of the plates from the range she scooped some stew ontoit and slapped it on the table in front of him. He crouched low over his food, almost throwing it into his mouth. Mary watched in disgust.
    ‘What about mine?’ Patrick demanded.
    ‘I’ll get it.’ Jean fussed over the food. ‘Is that enough?’ She showed the plate to Patrick. ‘More? I can put more on.’
    ‘No, thanks. That’s fine.’ He sounded suddenly sober. ‘Thanks Jean.’ Taking off his coat, he sat down at the table studying Jean and when he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners, Mary saw her blush but hold his gaze. Self-conscious for once, Patrick was the first to look away. Taking a quick look at Mary, he said, ‘Off out again tonight?’
    ‘No. We were going to go to the pictures but we changed our mind, didn’t we Jean?’
    ‘What? Oh, yes, we can go tomorrow.’ Jean smiled tentatively at Patrick, who grinned back, then bent his head over his meal.
    ‘Any more?’ Bill demanded.
    Silently Mary took his plate and refilled it.
    After he’d eaten Bill shoved himself away from the table and lurched across the kitchen. Collapsing into her mother’s rocking chair he was asleep in seconds.
    Mary cleared away the crockery, leaving the other two talking and then went upstairs to check on her mother. She was asleep, the slant of light from the landing falling across her face, which was partly hidden by her hand holding the damp cloth to the bruise on her cheek. Mary crossed the room and smoothed Winifred’s hair from her forehead. For a few seconds she stayed by the bed and then left, quietly closing the door. She opened her ownbedroom door with more force, clicking the latch down with a snap. ‘Are you awake, Ellen? Come on now, get up, I need to talk to you and Patrick. Come on, you’ve slept enough. I covered for you today at the factory but I’ll not do it again tomorrow. If you’re still feeling ill it’s your own fault.’ Ellen made a melodramatic snore. Mary pursed her lips. ‘And you can stop pretending you’re still asleep. You’re pushing your luck.’ She turned on her heel, leaving the door open, the glow of the small bulb filtering into the bedroom.
    Downstairs, Jean was getting ready to leave. Patrick, his hair carefully combed back into style, was winding his white scarf around his neck. As he set his cap to one side of his head and adjusted the peak over one eye, he spoke with studied nonchalance. ‘No bother at all. I’m off out to The Crown so I might as well walk with you.’
    ‘Are you going out again, Patrick? We need to talk.’ Mary nodded towards Bill who was slouched in the chair, snores bubbling from dropped jaw.
    ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m meeting a few of the lads.’
    Mary knew it was no use arguing in front of Jean; it would only make things worse. This was something she’d have to sort out without him, as usual. She whipped the tablecloth off the table and followed them to the door to shake it out in the yard. ‘Turn the light off. We don’t want the warden after us.’ She spoke