Angela did her best to appear sober and in total control of her emotions as she opened the front door. Connie was sitting at the table with all her books spread out. She looked up at Angela as she came in the room and removed her coat, and saw that her mother’s clothes seemed all mussed up, there was alcohol on her breath and she had been crying.
‘What’s the matter?’ Connie asked.
‘Nothing. What do you mean?’
‘You’ve been crying.’
‘No, no, I have a bit of a cold.’
‘Mammy,’ Connie said sarcastically. ‘I am no longer a baby. Your clothes are all over the place as well and you’re drunk.’
‘I am not drunk,’ Angela maintained, annoyed that her tongue seemed twice the size it should have been and the words sounded thick and indistinct.
‘Course you’re not,’ Connie said sarcastically. ‘Stone cold sober you are. Anyway, what were you crying about?’
Angela was tempted to tell Connie it was none of her business but she knew that would only convince her she had something to hide. However, she couldn’t tell her the truth, so she said, ‘It’s nothing. There was a man at the pub asked me to go to Cannon Hill Park with him as I had the evening off.’
‘A man.’
‘Yes Connie, a man,’ Angela said. ‘His name is Eddie McIntyre and he has been coming to the Swan for a wee while now. He’s from America, here on business.’
Connie felt as if the world had shifted under her feet and the words seemed forced from her. ‘You have no right to go out with men. What about Daddy?’
‘Your father is dead, Connie, has been dead for years and I have not and am not now going out with men. Just one man, Eddie, and this evening for the first time.’
‘And it’s dark and has been dark for hours. You can’t have been to a park in the dark.’
‘I know. On the way home we went for a drink.’
‘You went into a pub?’ Connie said, appalled.
‘Don’t sound so shocked, ‘ Angela said. ‘I seem to spend half my life in a pub.’
‘Not as a customer.’
‘Connie, it’s not a crime to go into a pub,’ Angela said. ‘We had fish and chips and they made us thirsty with the salt and vinegar and all, and so Eddie suggested going into the pub we were passing on our way home for a drink.’
‘So how did he make you cry?’
‘He didn’t make me as such,’ Angela said. ‘That was me being silly. We got talking about the war, and I told him how your daddy died. It was on the way home that I got to thinking of your daddy and shed a few tears thinking of what might have been.’
Angela felt ashamed at the lie she told her daughter but it was less shameful than the truth.
Connie looked at her mother and knew she wasn’t being honest with her. She had shed more than a few tears, judging by the tear-trails on her face, and for that matter her cheeks were flushed as if she was embarrassed at the lies she was spouting. Connie could never ever remember her mother telling her any sort of untruth before and that was disturbing in itself. Connie would have said she knew her mother well, better than anyone, but the woman who that day had gone out to the park with a man for hours and then spent the early evening in a pub and arrived home unsteady on her feet, smelling of drink with the mark of tears on her flushed cheeks, bore no resemblance to the mother she had lived with for over fourteen years. She dearly wished she had Sarah to confide in, but she hadn’t and so she kept it to herself.
Angela was more bothered with the events of the night than with Connie’s disapproval. As she lay in bed that night, Angela told herself that if she wasn’t able to put the memory of her violent rape by three drunken soldiers out of her mind then they would have won and succeeded in destroying the rest of her life. She knew she had to get a grip on herself.
Eddie had taken her out and they’d had a wonderful time together. He had bought her delicious fish and chips and then the drinks in the pub and she felt she owed him something for being so nice to her. On the walk home he had forced her to do nothing and her cheeks burned when she remembered how eagerly she had fallen into his arms. When he had kissed her she had kissed him back with a passion that matched his own, even though she was shaken to the core by her fast and forward behaviour.
But when he’d moved his hands over her body she’d been transported back to the alleyway: beaten, bruised and bleeding while one after another the soldiers thrust themselves inside her. She had fought against Eddie like a raging virago, lashing and kicking out – shouting and screaming loud enough to waken the dead.
She covered her face with her hands, crushed by the memories crowding into her brain of how badly she had behaved. Eddie had been very sweet about it, but he’d have had time to reflect now, and Angela faced the fact that he would probably never want to see her again. She was a little surprised at the lurch her stomach gave at that thought.
She couldn’t wait to see him again and so Connie found her mother quite distracted when she came home from school that afternoon. She tried talking to her, telling her things about school that she’d always been interested in before, but Angela either didn’t answer at all, or made non-committal murmurs. This continued even as they sat at the table and ate a meal together. It made Connie feel uncomfortable for it was obvious her mother’s mind was elsewhere and it was quite a relief when Angela took herself off to work.
Even at the pub, Angela was like a cat on hot bricks until she saw Eddie come into the pub and cross the room to the bar in moments, smiling broadly. Breda smiled grimly to herself, for Eddie’s actions showed he had enjoyed his time with Angela. She had asked Angela if she’d enjoyed herself but she just said it was all right.
‘It was like getting blood out of a stone,’ she said to Paddy later as they got ready for bed. ‘And then when Eddie came in it was as if there was a light lit up inside her. And Eddie said he had had a marvellous time with Angela and would like to do it again, or something similar, as soon as she had another free day.’
‘They seem to have something going between them right enough, but I’m not sure I like it too much. He is a worldly fellow and I think he has a temper on him besides,’ Paddy said. ‘I wonder how young Connie is coping with the news.’
‘She might not know yet,’ Breda said. ‘If I was Angela I’d put it off as long as possible. It’s been the two of them for so long she is more or less bound not to like Eddie McIntyre.’
‘Aye,’ Paddy said. ‘And she’d never think, youngsters never do, that adults might have needs in the bedroom.’
Breda laughed. ‘They think we’re far too old for that sort of malarkey. And I’m thinking that Connie may well have to get used to it because I’d say they are getting very fond of one another.’ And then she gave a sigh and went on, ‘And although I think Angela has a right to a bit of happiness in her life, I’d hate Eddie to marry her and whisk her off to the States. And not just because I’ll lose the best barmaid I’ve ever had.’
‘Oh, that hadn’t occurred to me,’ Paddy said. ‘D’you think that’s likely?’
Breda shrugged. ‘Don’t know Eddie’s long-term plans, but I’d say he could, he’s a free agent,’ she said. ‘But I doubt that would be on Angela’s agenda because she is fixed on the notion of letting Connie matriculate and that will all be up in the air if they move to America.’
‘Aren’t we jumping the gun a bit about this anyway?’ Paddy said. ‘They’ve only just met really.’
‘Paddy,’ Breda said. ‘Eddie has been coming here for months and he has always made a beeline for Angela to serve him and they used to talk a great deal, usually about America. Angela always said it was because her brothers were there, and I don’t know if that’s all there was in the beginning, for Angela at least. Eddie must have felt more for Angela more or less straight away though. Do you remember the way he was always asking questions about her when he came first and how his face brightened up when he learned she was a widow and not courting anyone so she was available? Must have been then he asked her out. Anyway, they might not hang about because they’re not in the first flush of youth, are they?’
‘Good God, woman, they’re not drawing a pension.’
‘I never said they were,’ Breda said. ‘Let’s just wait and see.’
A little over a week later Angela knew she had to tell Connie how things were between her and Eddie before someone else did. However, Connie was no fool and knew something wasn’t quite right and that it all stemmed from the night she’d told her she had been out with a man called Eddie McIntyre. Angela was seldom in in the evenings now and she knew her mother wasn’t working at the pub every night of the week. It made Connie feel more alone and isolated than ever and it wasn’t a total surprise when her mother told her she was getting ‘very close’ to Eddie McIntyre.
‘I would like you to meet him,’ Angela said to her daughter. ‘I’m sure you’d like him when you got to know him.’
She didn’t see Connie’s stony face, and so was taken aback when she said in clipped tones, ‘This man is your friend, he isn’t mine and I don’t want to meet him and haven’t the least desire to get to know him better.’
Angela tried to remonstrate with Connie, but she got short shrift. ‘This is nothing to do with me,’ she said, ‘so you bring him here and I shall go out.’
‘Why worry?’ Eddie said when Angela related what Connie had said. ‘I would have said she was almost bound to resent me. Before I came on the scene she was probably the focus of all your thoughts and attention so it would be very reasonable to be jealous, especially if she thought I was trying to take the place of her father.’
‘What shall we do?’ Angela cried. ‘Maybe if you came and talked to her.’
‘No,’ Eddie said. ‘I am the last person she will want to see just now. She will get over this in time and quicker if we make no fuss about it and carry on in our own sweet way.’
And the sweet way was very good indeed for, as October and the first half of November passed, Angela’s need for Eddie grew with every passing day. She found if she drank enough she could push the memories of the attack to some dark recess in her mind, and Eddie didn’t mind that, for the more drunk she was the more licence she allowed him. He kept his promise and never pushed her further than she wanted to go, but when he took her out to the music hall or the cinema and was so kind and gentle with her, she wanted to reward him, especially when they went for a few drinks on the way home.
The weather had grown colder now and so one day they spent the night drinking in a pub on Bristol Street and afterwards went to Eddie’s lodging in Colmore Street. They had to creep past the landlady’s room on the ground floor, for ladies weren’t allowed in gentlemen’s rooms. There the privacy they had meant that Angela allowed Eddie to touch areas of her body that even Barry never had, and he lifted her to heights of exhilaration she had never before experienced. She had always enjoyed sex with Barry, but her response had been tame in comparison to the lustful rapture she was feeling now with Eddie. After the birth of Connie, Barry’s lovemaking had been more controlled, especially after he enlisted for he hadn’t wanted to leave Angela with another mouth to feed.
However, there was nothing subdued or controlled about Eddie’s lovemaking, for he was an experienced lover and liked to leave his women screaming for more. Angela couldn’t believe she was the same person she had been just six months before, because not only was she allowing Eddie to do unmentionable things to her, she was helping him and wanting it as much as he was, though she never let him enter her. Angela drew the line there for she said that was very, very wrong and mustn’t happen.
Eddie smiled to himself for he knew Angela was holding back from letting him take her fully with great difficulty. Eventually she would let him have what she wanted so much herself.
And so the next time she had a free night off they went to the pub and Eddie encouraged Angela to drink more than she ever had before. To please Eddie, for she always wanted to please Eddie, Angela drank the contents of every glass he bought her. He knew he would have to pretty much carry her to his lodgings, but he considered it worth it for he was determined that night to claim the prize she had so far hung on to. That night he intended to work her up to the point where in her drunken state she would be unable to help herself and he was sure she’d let him go as far as he wanted.
She was virtually unable to stand when Eddie decided they would make for his lodgings and, as he’d anticipated, he had to nearly carry her through the cold dark streets. He was glad his landlady was a little on the deaf side; he was sure if she wasn’t she would have heard them on the stairs that night, for Angela was stumbling so badly and giggling about it while Eddie tried to haul her up the stairs as quickly as possible.
He laid her on the bed and she was too drunk to move, not even protesting when he started removing her clothing. His excitement mounted as he removed layer after layer and she helped him, tearing the clothes from her. He gazed at her spread out shamelessly in the bed and her body felt as if it was on fire.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said huskily. ‘So very beautiful.’
He began to strip and Angela sat up, though her head spun and she swayed slightly, and tore some buttons from his shirt in her haste to help him. When he was naked he stood beside the bed and she gasped for she was seeing the naked body of a man for the first time. She had never seen Barry unclothed and she saw Eddie’s pulsating manhood and felt exhilaration flow through her so that she shuddered all over.
And then Eddie was on top of her, kissing her all over her body, her lips, her neck, her throat, her belly, till she could hardly breathe. He sucked at her breasts till they throbbed and Angela was writhing and moaning beneath him. Desire was almost consuming her and the ache between her legs was unbearable.
‘Let me love you properly, Angela?’ Eddie pleaded.
‘Oh yes, please yes,’ Angela cried.
And yet Eddie did not enter her. ‘Are you sure you want this?’
‘Want it?’ Angela repeated. ‘Almighty Christ I need it, quickly for I can’t bear it.’
Eddie thrust his way inside her and Angela grasped his buttocks, and pulling her legs up, pushed him further and further in. Remembering the landlady, she bit on her lips to restrain the shouts of joy escaping from her and she rose in rapturous peaks of lust.
Eventually, much later, when the fires had died down a little in Angela, she lay back with a sigh of contentment. Eddie collapsed on top of her as she said, in a slurred voice, ‘That is the best feeling I have ever had in all the world, the best, the very best.’
‘Hear hear,’ said Eddie. ‘It’s rare to find a woman who likes sex so much. But much though I’d like to sleep the night through cuddling you in my arms, and maybe have another sexy foray before you rise, we must get up and dress because it is after midnight and you must go home.’
Angela grumbled and complained, because she was filled with the drowsiness that often follows satisfying sex, and didn’t want to leave the bed. Yet she knew that Eddie was right and she hauled herself up and began to pull her clothes on and then, with Eddie’s arm around her lest she fall, they headed out. They kept away from the well-lit roads and eventually made it to the front door of Angela’s house without incident.
‘Watch how you go,’ Eddie said. ‘Especially on the stairs.’
Angela just smiled at him benignly and waved him away in the exaggerated manner of the very drunk. ‘Don’t fuss,’ she said.
However, when she stepped in the house and no longer had the support of Eddie, she realised how unsteady she was. Holding on to the furniture, she weaved her way to the stairs and fell in a heap at the bottom of them. With her head reeling, she knew she would never be able to climb the stairs in the usual way and so she ascended on her hands and knees. Once in the bedroom she pulled herself up, holding on to the dressing table. Her bed looked inviting and when she fell across it she closed her eyes and slept without removing anything.
She hadn’t slept long though before the nausea woke her and she was sick in the pot beneath her bed. She longed to sleep but when she closed her eyes the room began to spin and then the urge to be sick would jerk her upright. That set the pattern for the night, for twice more she was violently sick in the pot.
Eventually, just before dawn, she dropped into an uneasy doze and when she woke a little later she felt as if she had stepped into the pit of hell. She was used to waking with a thick head if she had been out with Eddie the night before, but this was a throbbing pain so strong it was hard to raise her head from the pillow and her mouth was so dry she had trouble swallowing.
But, as she lay bracing herself to get up, the memories of the night before came flooding back. Parts of it were hazy but she remembered enough to know that she had behaved in a disgusting way. She felt bitterly ashamed of her behaviour. What had she been thinking of? She was little better than a harlot because there wasn’t even any sort of understanding between them; Eddie had never hinted at marriage and yet she had allowed him to do things that only married couples do. But no, she thought, get it right. I didn’t allow him, I encouraged him and helped him and wanted sex as much as he did.
She wondered if he had left her with a child. Well, if he had she only had herself to blame, there must be something radically wrong with her that caused her to behave in that shameless and immoral way.
She gasped with horror as she suddenly thought that the soldiers who attacked her that time must have sensed the wantonness in her. If that had been the case it had all been as much her fault as theirs. She couldn’t bear the thought that the innocent baby left on the steps of the workhouse was the one who had suffered for her sins. She groaned in anguish, her head held in her hands at the thought of what she subjected that child to. Well that at least wouldn’t happen again, because if she had been left carrying a child, she would rear it herself, however hard it was.
When she was eventually upright she felt incredibly nauseous and knew if she ate anything she would be as sick as a dog. In a way, that was just as well because she was going to be late for work as it was. She would have loved a cup of tea, but she hadn’t the time to make it and drink it, and maybe that too was just as well for she gagged on the cup of water she did try to drink when she came back from emptying the pot in the lavatory. She managed only a few sips before she felt the bile beginning to gather in her mouth. She didn’t try any more but left for work, hurrying as much as she was able to. She was on an early shift and slipped out of the house before Connie had risen for school. She was too ashamed to look her daughter in the face and hoped that she had not heard her banging and crashing through the house.
When she let herself into the side door of the pub she saw that as usual Breda wasn’t down yet, but Paddy was there and looked up as she came in. It was an unusual occurrence for her not to be on time and so she said to Paddy, ‘Sorry I’m late. I overslept.’
‘Happens to us all now and again,’ Paddy said and then he looked closer at Angela’s face and saw the bags beneath her lacklustre eyes and the fact that they looked large in her white, drawn face. ‘You all right? You look right peaky.’
‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Angela assured him. In truth she felt like death warmed up, her eyes burned and the pain in her head was so great she didn’t know what to do with herself. But as that was totally her own fault she couldn’t ask for sympathy or do anything other than carry out her job to the best of her ability.
But Paddy was concerned about Angela. She had worked there long enough for him to know when the girl wasn’t right. But, he reasoned, it might be women’s troubles so he went up and told Breda there was something the matter with Angela, for all she claimed there wasn’t.
Breda gave a sigh and climbed stiffly out of bed and began to dress. ‘Maybe she took a drop too much last night,’ she said.
Once she would never have thought that of Angela, for the girl never drank a drop of anything – lemonade and only lemonade was her tipple. But that was before she began seeing Eddie. He was a heavy drinker, as were many men, but it seemed he had encouraged Angela because they had been seen imbibing rather freely in the Bell Barn Tavern further down Bell Barn Road during Angela’s time off.
And Paddy had told her Eddie bought at least one port and lemon for her on the night she was working and had one waiting for her at the end of her shift. Breda had given a sniff of disapproval when she had heard this, for she didn’t really approve of staff drinking behind the bar. However, her arthritis meant that she could spend little time there herself and really relied on Angela. Paddy too was prepared to turn a blind eye because he liked the odd tipple or two himself.
Paddy looked at Breda’s disapproving face and said, ‘Don’t be too hard on her if she has overdone it a bit. It isn’t as if she gets legless or owt.’
‘Angela wouldn’t need much though, would she?’ Breda said. ‘There’s very little to her and she’s not used to it.’
‘Well, even if she was to take a drop too much, though I have never seen that myself, she’s hurting no one. She’s maybe just having a little fun in her life now that she has Connie nearly reared. Really, she’s had precious little up to now and she was once as thick as thieves with that Stan and nothing came of that. Never sees hide nor hair of him now, nor that son of his.’
‘That was odd,’ Breda agreed. ‘And after all Angela did for him as well. I suppose now he has his son back in his life he had no need for her company any more. Shabby way to treat someone if you ask me. And she was cut up about it because I asked about him one day and honest to God I thought she was going to burst into tears. I mean, that’s one of the reasons I encouraged her to go out with Eddie. I could see he was keen on her and I thought it might cheer them both up. I never imagined for one moment that it would get as intense as it has.’
‘Maybe they’ll end up getting married.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Breda said with a shake of her head. ‘To me Eddie is more a love-them-and-leave-them kind of man.’
Recognising now that Eddie was the type that didn’t want to commit to one woman and liked to play the field, Breda felt slightly guilty that she had encouraged Angela to go out with him. She had only intended it in a friendly way, to give her a lift, and she hadn’t known then that Angela was going to fall for Eddie McIntyre hook, line and sinker the way it appeared she had done. What bothered her a bit was that she knew that some men encouraged girls they were keen on to drink, as even a respectable girl would often let a man do far more than she normally would if she had had more alcohol than was sensible. It was a known fact and she just hoped Angela was wise enough to keep her wits about her.
She hadn’t interfered so far for she didn’t think it was her place, but then Paddy had asked her to look at Angela. She saw straight away there was something very wrong with the woman and, being a publican’s wife, she would have taken bets on the girl being badly hungover. She knew the time had come to have a wee talk. Angela was wiping the tables down when Breda walked into the bar, sat at one of the tables and asked Angela to join her.
‘But I haven’t finished, Breda.’
‘The pub will have to make do with a lick and a promise today,’ Breda said. ‘You are more important.’
‘Me?’ Angela cried. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’
‘Oh yes there is,’ Breda said determinedly. ‘You are sick and you look sick and the reason is because you had far too much to drink last night and you are now hungover. And this isn’t the first time, but the first time I have seen you this bad.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘There’s no harm done yet,’ Breda said. ‘Tell me, does Eddie encourage you to drink?’
‘I don’t think so, Breda,’ Angela said. ‘The first day I went out with him I told him I didn’t drink, that I didn’t even like the smell, and he said he bet he could find something I liked.’
‘And he bought you port and lemon.’ Breda said. ‘Because that’s what you drink here.’
‘Yes,’ Angela said. ‘And I loved it. It was Eddie told me to take it steady because I was drinking it down like I did lemonade. He said you had to treat alcohol with more respect.’
‘Well he’s right enough there,’ Breda said. ‘The thing with drink, Angela, is you sometimes do things that you might be embarrassed to do if you hadn’t taken a drink, and the more you drink the bolder you can get. It could easily make you do things you bitterly regret the next morning.’
Angela lowered her head, but not before Breda had seen her cheeks aflame with shame, and she felt her heart drop to her boots. She was very fond of Angela and if that young woman had given herself to that charming, handsome, but fly-by-night Eddie McIntyre, her life would be ruined, for she knew he would leave Angela even if she was in the family way with his child, without a backward glance.
But maybe it wasn’t as bad as she feared. ‘Angela,’ she said. ‘You haven’t …?’
Angela lifted her sorrowful eyes and Breda watched tears brim over her eyelids and trail down her face as she gave a brief nod.
‘This is where you tell me to leave because you don’t want such a wicked person working for you. I gave myself to Eddie McIntyre freely last night when I drank far more than I ever have before and … well, I suppose Eddie did encourage me then in the pub, but I didn’t resist or say no.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I wanted to please him,’ Angela said simply and added, ‘I always want to please him.’
‘Does that mean what I think it means?’
Angela nodded her head. ‘I was very drunk. Eddie had to nearly carry me back to his lodgings and … and, well, I don’t seem to be able to say no to Eddie.’
‘Do you love him, Angela?’
‘I don’t know,’ Angela said. ‘It’s not the same that I felt for Barry. But I think about him all the time.’
‘You know he isn’t the marrying kind.’
Angela nodded her head. ‘I sort of know that and somehow it doesn’t matter. He has never said he loves me and there is no understanding between us and yet I let him … I would like to say he forced me because you might feel better about me, but he didn’t force me, he didn’t have to. Oh Breda,’ Angela cried, covering her mouth with her hands so that the last words were hushed. ‘I don’t know what came over me but I wanted it as much as he did. How wicked is that?’
‘Oh God, girl, none of us are saints,’ Breda said. ‘I’m not interested in how wicked you are. All I’m concerned with is that there are no consequences to your night of passion.’
‘Oh, so am I,’ Angela said fervently. She had more reason to wish that than Breda, for her employer never knew of the bundle left on the workhouse steps. If she hadn’t been to blame for what had happened with Eddie, she would have pleaded with the Almighty not to let her suffer the same fate again, she would have begun a novena to the blessed Virgin, offered up a Mass. But how could she do any of these things when she had welcomed sex as much as Eddie had? She was as wicked as him and she didn’t see why God would be interested in helping her. It felt a bit of a cheek to ask Him and expect Him to fix things.
Breda watched Angela’s anguished face as her thoughts tumbled about in her mind. Though she wasn’t privy to them, she guessed Angela would be blaming herself because she was that kind of girl and so she said, ‘This isn’t your fault, Angela. It was the drink you took made you act that way.’
Angela shook her head. ‘Mary always said what’s in a person sober comes out when they are drunk and I took the drink willingly. Eddie didn’t hold my nose and pour it down my neck. There is no excuse for me, there’s a definite flaw in my character. Are you sure you still want to employ me?’
Breda didn’t answer that directly, but what she did say was, ‘Angela, how long have I known you?’
‘A long time, years.’
‘Nearly all your life.’ Breda said. ‘Paddy and I had just become licensees of this pub when you arrived with the McCluskys when you were four. Our own children were young then and you all played in the street, you and Barry, the Dochertys, the Websters, the Maguires and all the others in the streets and yards around. And you all went off to school when you were old enough, you went to holy communion and confirmation with my daughter and Barry was an altar boy with my son. I know you and your whole family and I know you to be honest and respectable and if you were a wicked girl, I would say there would be some evidence of it before now.’
‘Yes, but …’
‘Hear me out, Angela,’ Breda said. ‘Believe me, what you did with Eddie you did because you got so drunk that all your inhibitions flew out of the window and you behaved in a completely strange way. And though Eddie didn’t force you to drink too much, he allowed you to, and I have no doubt he knew the reaction it would have on you, being totally unused to alcohol. So he was far more to blame than you.’
Angela couldn’t tell Breda that at first she had welcomed the effect of the alcohol that blurred the edges of the attack, so that she was able to accept and even welcome Eddie’s advances, for Breda knew nothing about the attack. Nor could she say that she hadn’t just submitted to Eddie’s desire for sex. She had given herself to him completely in total abandonment and she was bitterly ashamed. Without a wedding ring on her finger it couldn’t be repeated, she knew that. Eddie wasn’t the marrying kind and she had said as much to Breda, though she couldn’t help hoping that now that she had given herself to him so completely he would feel some commitment towards her.
She didn’t share this hope with Breda, and when she held her hands tight and looked into her eyes and said, ‘This mustn’t happen again, you do realise that?’ Angela nodded her head.
‘And it might be better for you not to drink anything if you are going to continue seeing Eddie.’
‘I’d already decided that,’ Angela said.
‘Good girl,’ said Breda. ‘Now all we have to do is hope and pray there are no repercussions to last night …’