Towards a Dark Horizon Read Free Page A

its blank look and she looked concerned.
    ‘Kit, don’t let Danny stay for the wake,’ she turned to Hattie. ‘Take him home, lass, as it’s not a thing for a young laddie.’
    She glared at Martin but her words fell on deaf ears. He puffed out his beefy chest and glared back at her. ‘Don’t be daft, Ma. What harm can it do? Surely if seventeen-year-auld Sammy Malloy is there then so should Danny pay his respects.’ He turned to Dad. ‘You come in as well, Johnny.’
    Now it was my turn to be worried. Both Dad and Danny had their jobs to go to in the morning and the last thing I wanted was for them both to be up all night drinking.
    Life had been hard enough for us after Mum’s death. Dad had taken this so badly that he drowned his sorrow in drink. He had taken his unhappiness to the pub. Fortunately, Maddie’s parents had found him a job in her uncle’s warehouse and he had stopped drinking – apart from an occasional pint of beer on a Saturday night.
    By now, George realised the big mistake he had made and he tried to usher Martin back into the bedroom. Martin let out a roar of annoyance that brought other neighbours, the Malloys, senior and junior, into the kitchen. They had obviously drunk too much beer and they were both on the verge of aggression. Mick Malloy, the father, thrust his unshaven face within an inch of Kit’s furious expression. ‘Will you stop your whinging, woman, and let the laddie mourn his Grandaddy?’
    Then, before Kit or Hattie could stop them, they swept the two men into the bedroom. A sheepish-looking and worried George followed them while young Sammy gave Kathleen a long leering gaze.
    Before the door closed, I had a sneak view of the bedroom’s dark interior. The black shape of the coffin, highlighted by glowing candles, was surrounded by the shadowy shapes of the mourners. Cigarette smoke wafted out of this hell-like scene, along with the pungent smell of beer, and then the door was firmly closed in the faces of the outraged women.
    ‘That Mick Malloy and his son are just toerags and idiots,’ said Kit to a furious-looking Hattie who was trying desperately to keep her social smile in place.
    If I hadn’t been worried myself, I would have laughed at her comical expression but it was no laughing matter. ‘Dad has his work tomorrow and so has Danny.’ My voice was tight with worry. ‘If they don’t turn up, they’ll lose them, Kit.’
    Ma Ryan called out from her chair, ‘Don’t you worry, lass. They’ll not be staying for long – even if I have to haul them out myself.’
    On that note of promise, we swallowed our tea and finished off a meat paste sandwich. Then we said our goodbyes.
    Before we left, Ma asked Hattie, ‘Will we see you at the funeral on Thursday? The service will be held here at ten o’clock and the interment at Balgay cemetery afterwards.’
    I saw that Hattie was having great difficulty in keeping her voice under control. The last thing she would want was to lose her dignity in this shabby little room. Even so, her answer surprised me. I was waiting for a polite refusal but she said very quietly, ‘Yes, Ma, I’ll be there.’
    A flicker of emotion leapt into Ma’s eyes. ‘Thanks for coming, Hattie. It’s been great to see you again.’
    Hattie thanked Kit and her sisters for the tea and then we headed towards the dark stair again. Our passage was helped slightly by the light of the torch, which Hattie promised she’d get Danny to return. That is if he was ever allowed back after tonight, I thought.
    I was tensed up and waiting for the explosion. I wasn’t disappointed. Halfway down the street, Hattie stopped suddenly and stamped her feet in anger. ‘Imagine letting a young lad go to a wake. A wake, I ask you! Sitting up all night with a dead body.’ Her voice held a hysterical note of fury. ‘I’ve never heard anything so barbaric in my entire life.’ She snorted with derision. ‘Of course, it’s just an excuse for a good-old booze-up.