‘MARY, PAT WANTS ME TO GO IN WITH HIM TO BUY A RUNDOWN FRAME building on Mott Street,’ John told her nervously on his return from work.
‘Are you gone cracked? We don’t have the money for that,’ she told him outright.
‘Listen to me. Pat says it is a huge opportunity and that if we don’t grab it, someone else will. The place is falling down but we can repair it and fix it up. In a year or two we can either rent it out or sell it.’
‘We are paying rent and food. I’m telling you straight, John Sullivan, we have no spare money for such things,’ she sighed, exasperated. ‘Pat may have the money for it – he has no responsibilities – but we don’t!’
‘Pat says he’ll put up a much larger share, but he wants me to be a part owner with him. We can use our savings and borrow the rest from the Emigrant Industrial Savings Bank.’
He badgered her over the next three days, wearing her down about the house and opportunity that he would miss out on.
‘Oh … I don’t know.’ She gave in, exasperated. ‘Tell Pat to come here and talk to us about it.’
‘The worst that will happen, Mary, is that we improve the old building and sell it at a higher price than we paid for it,’ explained Pat, his face serious. ‘I promise you that we both will still have our proper jobs. We will do the renovations in the evenings and at weekends when we are free. We’ll get a few of the men we know to give us a bit of a hand if need be.’
‘But when will you have the time?’ she asked with worry. ‘You already work so hard.’
‘You find time for extra dressmaking work,’ John reminded her gently. ‘It will be the same for me.’
She smiled. ‘God knows we are both hard workers!’
Despite her reservations, Mary agreed reluctantly to John using their meagre savings to go in with his brother on the house. She prayed that he was not being foolish or wasteful.
The two brothers nearly killed themselves fixing up and repairing the house, month after month. John was so tired he would nearly fall asleep standing up.
By September, the work was finished and it was ready to be rented out.
‘It’s a lot better than Mrs Beatty’s,’ Mary had to admit when she went to see the finished Mott Street building.
The wood was freshly painted, which was basic, but the place was at least now dry and warm. They rented it quickly to six families, who were glad to find rooms with a stove and proper outside water closet.
‘Isn’t it a bit crowded?’ she asked, worried.
‘We could have rented it out ten times over,’ Pat reminded her dryly. ‘Remember, it’s the tenants who help us to repay the loan.’