Free A Glimpse at Happiness by Jean Fullerton

across Charlie’s face. ‘Your little lady love. Miss O’Casey. The little darling who Nolan walked away with.’ He pulled out a cigar, jammed it in his mouth and then struck a Lucifer on the sole of his boot. ‘It seems Miss O’Casey wasn’t always dressed in feathers and lace. In fact, her mother sang in old Danny Donovan’s pubs before she married one of the doctors at the hospital.’
     
    ‘Did you find out the doctor’s name?’ Ma asked.
     
    ‘Munroe. Robert Munroe. It was his investigation into Danny Donovan’s dealings what sent him to the gallows, and’ ‘Ellen O’Casey, who is now Mrs Munroe, helped put the noose around old Danny’s neck. Charlie drew deeply on the cigar again and blew some smoke rings. The little sweetie who gave you the brush-off is her daughter, Josie. They went to America after the trial and only came back a month ago.’
     
    ‘Danny Donovan was a hard man but fair,’ Ma said in a tone of deep respect. ‘Your father was one of his top men.’
     
    Charlie let out a long whistle between his teeth. ‘I remember I smashed into Danny Donovan in the street one day. I nearly shite meself.’
     
    Harry studied his brother lounging in the chair. He would like to see his lazy, sniggering brother shite himself. In fact he’d give his eye teeth to see Ma look at Charlie, just once, with the contempt she always reserved for him.
     
    It didn’t matter to Ma that he’d spent all night on the river lowering barrels and boxes over the side of a ship. Or that, without even seeing his bed, he’d had to hump the same fifty or so crates and sacks down into the storeroom while Charlie snored in drunken oblivion. No. Because anything Charlie did was just dandy in Ma’s eyes.
     
    ‘Hey, Harry,’ Charlie said chewing on his cigar. ‘What did she look like?’ he asked, leaning back.
     
    ‘She was all right,’ he said, trying to sound uninterested to avoid them finding something else to ridicule him for.
     
    Charlie raised his hands and cupped them in front of his chest. ‘Did she have a good handful?’ he asked flexing his fingers.
     
    Harry grinned. ‘Enough.’ Thinking about her trim figure and bobbing curls . . .
     
    Charlie shifted forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. ‘What else did she have?’
     
    ‘Nice eyes,’ Harry blurted out.
     
    Charlie snorted. ‘Nice frigging eyes! Do you hear that, Ma?’
     
    Ma chuckled. Harry glared at his brother. He hated himself for not being quick enough with a stinging retort but he hated Charlie more.
     
    A faint titter came from across the room and he glared at the sallow-looking redhead at the end of the bench. She lowered her gaze back to the dusty tea leaves but not before her lip curled up.
     
    ‘Charlie’s only having a laugh, aren’t you, Charlie?’ Ma said, glancing towards the bench. There was a rustle of paper as the four girls returned to their task.
     
    The urge to smash his fist into his brother’s smug face swept over Harry but he held it back. One day, he would get his own back when Ma wasn’t there to protect her favourite.
     
    She reached into her pocket and pulled out her snuff box. She tapped out two small piles on her hand.
     
    ‘Well,’ she said, closing one nostril with her finger and sniffing the grey powder up the other. ‘From what I could see, she’d already caught Patrick Nolan’s eye.’ The rest of the snuff disappeared up the other nostril and she held her breath.
     
    Yes, Harry had noticed the way that bastard Nolan’s eyes glinted when they looked at Josie O’Casey. He had a roguish way about him that women liked and by the way her eyes changed as they rested on Nolan, Josie O’Casey was no exception.
     
    A crafty expression crept over Charlie’s face. ‘Don’t worry, Ma. Our Harry won’t let no poxy Mick get the better of him. Will you?’
     
    Get the better of him? Damn, that’s just what he had done, hadn’t he? Outside the Boatman, and in every other