Liverpool Taffy Read Online Free

enjoyed, Biddy found the walk home less tiring than usual. She and her mother now had a room in a house in Virginia Street, just behind St Paul’s church which, in its turn, was behind Exchange Station. It was quite near the docks, which Biddy liked, and handy for work, though you couldn’t say it was the healthiest spot in the city. All day and for quite a bit of the night the racket of the trains – and the filth from their engines – befouled the air and though their landlady constantly reminded them how fortunate they were, Biddy sometimes had her doubts.
    When Mam’s cough got worse she had tried to move, but it wasn’t easy. Mrs Edith Kilbride’s rent was possible because Mam kept an eye on their landlady’s four small children whilst she went off to work at the nearby station as a cleaner. Kath O’Shaughnessy and Edith had lived on the same street in Dublin, years ago, and had remained good friends, which would have made leaving difficult. Besides which, paying a normal rent, until Kath was back in work once more, was next to impossible.
    Despite the lateness of the hour there were plenty of people around in the streets and quite a crowd were coming out of Exchange Station. Biddy dodged round them and dived down the subway which came out in St Paul’s Square. From there it was a short walk along Earle Street and into the narrow house in Virginia Street.
    Biddy was humming a tune as she ran up the stairs, for their room was on the first floor. She hoped her mother had managed to get something for their tea – for some reason she thought it might be fish – and was already anticipating a nice bit of cod with a pile of boiled potatoes and maybe even a bit of cake for a pudding. The tiny widow’s pension which the O’Shaughnessys drew had been due this morning, which usually meant something substantial for tea. Biddy’s own wage, though useful, was too small to provide anything hot and the savings which Kath O’Shaughnessy was carefully husbanding were used to pay the rent.
    Biddy stopped outside their room to get her breath, then tapped on the door and opened it. She always tapped as though it was a real front door, though of course it was only one room, and her mother usually called out cheerfully, then came across to give her daughter a kiss. But today, as Biddy entered the room, everything was different. For one thing her mother was in bed, not up, and for another, she was not alone. A tall, worried-looking man was sitting on the edge of the bed writing something in a book and Edie Kilbride was standing by the mantel, her face very pale. She turned as Biddy entered the room, looking stricken.
    ‘Oh, Biddy, dear … oh Biddy, I don’t know how to tell you … sure an’ ’tis the last t’ing either of us expected … oh Biddy, this is Dr Godber, who has somet’ing to say to ye.’
    The man on the bed turned towards her. His face was solemn but as he turned he had glanced down at his watch and Biddy could tell that he was longing to be on his way.
    ‘Ah, Bridget! I’m afraid I have sad news for you, my child. Very sad news.’
    ‘She’s been took bad, hasn’t she?’ Biddy quavered, moving towards the bed. ‘Poor Mam, she’s been getting better slowly, but now she’s been took bad. What must I do, sir?’
    As she spoke she glanced towards the pillows – and stopped short, a hand flying to her mouth. There lay her mother’s shape, but it was covered completely by a sheet, pulled up to hide her face.
    The doctor followed her glance.
    ‘She’s … she’s gone to her reward,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I’m afraid, Bridget, that your mother haemorrhaged about an hour ago. She lost a great deal of blood and died soon afterwards.’
    ‘Died?’ Biddy could see the man’s mouth moving, she could hear his words, but somehow they had no meaning. A great sheet of glass had been interposed between them and she felt as though someone had stuffed her mouth with cotton wool and her ears, too. Was that