Free The Travelling Man by Marie Joseph Page A

she’d said to bring all that on. But seeing the awful sadness in it, just the same.
    Father O’Leary was so relieved to get inside out of the cold he made straight for Mrs Greenhalgh’s fire, failing to see Jack Clancy, still in his pit dirt, scarpering up the stairs.
    ‘I’ve come on an errand of mercy,’ he said. ‘Knowing you’ve never been known to pass by on the other side.’
    ‘If it’s in my power, Father.’ Jack’s jacket and waistcoat were there, in full view of the priest, with his boots set side by side under the table, but the saintly old codger would think they were her son’s. ‘We only pass this way but once.’ Florrie Greenhalgh put on the pious expression she saved for going to Mass.
    Father O’Leary leaned forward. Best to come straight to the point. ‘Young Annie Clancy’s got herself into trouble.’ He bowed his head. ‘With a man. I’m feared she’s going to have a baby.’ His head jerked up. ‘What was that?’
    ‘Nothing, Father.’ Florrie had to think quick. ‘Sometimes the next door’s cat gets in and knocks things over.’ She hoped she didn’t look as alarmed as she felt. ‘Are you sure you’re right? Begging your pardon, Father, but young Annie’s always been a bit fanciful. Is it not some fairy-tale she’s made up, thinking to shock?’
    ‘I pray you’re right, Mrs Greenhalgh. I pray you’re right altogether.’ Father O’Leary gathered his cloak round him. He’d forgotten how enormously fat this good woman was, how her eyes kept disappearing into little cushions of flesh. Homely. Motherly. Just what was needed. ‘If you could go and have a straight little talk with her.’ He reached for his hat. ‘It’s a mother she needs at the moment … but alas …’
    ‘I’ll go up right this minute, Father. I’ll just get me shawl.’
    ‘God bless you,’ Father O’Leary muttered, stepping out into a raging snowstorm, his hands and feet already numb. ‘May His blessing shine upon you.’
    He had hardly turned the corner at the top of the street when Jack Clancy hurtled out of the bottom house, followed by Mrs Greenhalgh, puffing to keep up with him, but leaving enough breath to yell at the top of her voice: ‘You lay a finger on that lass, and I’ll have the law on you, Jack Clancy!’
    Annie heard them coming, and the shame of it made her feel sick. The front door slammed back with such force that flakes of plaster fell from the wall. She wanted to turn and run out the back way, but forced herself to stand her ground, holding the ironing blanket she’d been folding in front of her like a shield.
    A part of her, a small unacknowledged part, bowed to the relief of having been found out. When her father started to unbuckle his belt she accepted that to have the shame beaten out of her might even be a good thing. Once it was done it would be done.
    ‘Is it true? Is what Father O’Leary’s just come out with the truth?’ He ran the thick belt through his fingers.
    Mrs Greenhalgh snatched it, then gave Jack an almighty shove that took him off his feet and sent him sprawling into his chair. Annie’s mouth dropped open with the shock of it.
    ‘Shame on you, Jack!’ Mrs Greenhalgh stood over him, wobbling with indignation. ‘It’s that sailor you should be fighting, not this child. I warned you there was gyppo blood in him, but you wouldn’t listen. Not you!’ She spoke without turning round. ‘Is it true, lass?’
    ‘Laurie said he wanted to marry me. He said he would be coming back for me. An’ he will. He
will
.’
    Mrs Greenhalgh’s broad back expressed disbelief. ‘He was all talk and nowt else. I could have told you that, chuck.’ A fat finger was poked in Jack’s chest.
    Annie could hardly believe what was happening. Laurie had been right. There
was
something going on between her father and Mrs Greenhalgh from the bottom house. He was cowering back in his chair with the blowsy woman bending over him, supporting herself on the