Free The Bells of Scotland Road by Ruth Hamilton Page A

continuous, might have belonged to a battalion of
shabbily drilled soldiers. ‘This is a busy place for a country child,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to find her.’
    He shrugged. ‘Children don’t disappear round here. They go off for hours, but they come back. I hope Cathy’s not trying to be difficult. Running this place is hard enough
without—’
    ‘I shall look after my girls, Mr Bell, just as I always have.’
    He dropped his head pensively. ‘You’ll have to call me Sam. And you can sleep in here from now on.’
    Bridie’s flesh crawled.
    ‘There’s no fire in here,’ he added. ‘The only rooms with chimneys are Muth’s and your daughters’.’ He stared at her sleepily. ‘I’m a
reasonable man, Bridie. You help me and I’ll help you. That sounds fair, doesn’t it? At least the nights should be warmer if we share a bed. It is a very cold winter.’ He perked
up slightly. ‘Still, once the weather warms up and you’ve got used to the shop, I’ll be able to go fishing.’
    Unable to lay her tongue across a suitable response, Bridie dashed from the room and picked up her younger child. ‘Come on,’ she managed eventually. ‘We’ll go and find
your sister.’
    She ran along the pavement, the blanket-wrapped Shauna clutched to her chest. Men bearing small tin lunchboxes and billycans pounded towards her, and she almost collided with a woman who carried
a huge pannier of fruit. Shops were already opening, their doors hanging inwards, customers popping in for the day’s allocation of tobacco, milk and bread. Prams filled with washing rolled
along like a wagon train, while early tramcars filled with human cargo clattered past on iron rails. For Bridie, this place was the ultimate nightmare.
    At the corner of Dryden Street, she paused for breath. He wanted her to share a bed with him. He wanted his rights as a husband. Hadn’t he said in the letter that he would not trouble her?
Oh, she would think later, after Cathy was safely home. She marched up the street, nodded at people who seemed vaguely familiar. If she didn’t sleep with him, he might have the marriage
annulled. And would that be an altogether bad thing? she wondered.
    All the houses looked the same, and she couldn’t remember which one she had visited the night before. She knocked on a door from behind which the sounds of human occupation could be heard.
Annulment would mean returning to Da. Da would gloat endlessly about such failure.
    The door opened. ‘What do you want?’ The speaker was pale and thin. An even paler baby mewled in the woman’s arms.
    ‘I’m looking for the Costigans,’ said Bridie.
    ‘Four houses up.’ The door slammed.
    Bridie covered the rest of the distance in a few strides.
    ‘Come in,’ smiled Big Diddy. She led Bridie through the small parlour and into the kitchen. Billy and Charlie were at the table finishing their breakfasts. Maureen preened at the
mirror while Nicky struggled into a coat. ‘It’s cold round at Paddy’s,’ she told Bridie by way of explanation. ‘Is he up?’
    Bridie’s eyes were fixed on Cathy. ‘Why did you go without telling me? Don’t you understand that we’re in a strange place and that I would be worrying?’
    Cathy ladled golden syrup onto her porridge. She was seated near the fire, was using the box-shaped wire fireguard as a table. ‘Sorry, missus,’ said Tildy. She was at the other side
of the range. ‘It was my fault.’
    ‘Is he?’ repeated Nicky.
    ‘I beg your pardon. Were you talking to me?’ asked Bridie.
    ‘Oh, never mind.’ Nicky flounced out of the room.
    Diddy descended on Bridie and prised Shauna out of her grasp. ‘Sit down,’ she begged. ‘Have a cup of tea and a bite to eat.’ She gave the three-year-old a shive of bread
and jam. Shauna sat on the floor and watched Tildy shovelling porridge.
    Bridie dropped into a chair. ‘I won’t have her running wild,’ she told her hostess. ‘At home, she never strayed far, and we knew