The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,51
bring himself to talk about Danny. His brother didn’t understand what had happened to him, and Nick would never say it.
But he remembered only too clearly that day four years ago when he’d come home from work and found Danny lying like a broken doll on the floor, his face a mashed-up pulp, blood seeping from his ears and nose. And Reg Riley, the evil swine Nick couldn’t even bring himself to call his father, standing over him, his fists balled, acting the big man because he’d smashed into a skinny, helpless little boy.
Nick never knew what his brother had done wrong. Danny was only eleven, such a quiet lad who never got into trouble or said a cheeky word to his father. Not like Nick. But Nick was sixteen, and so big and strong that even Reg Riley wasn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with him. Nick had tortured himself ever since, wondering if his father had decided to punish Danny instead.
Nick had carried his brother’s broken little body across the park to the Nightingale himself. It was the worst moment of his life. He had no use for religion, but he had prayed that night, traded his soul, his future and everything he had, if the Almighty would just let his little brother live.
And He had. But no one had promised what kind of life he would have.
Once he knew Danny was going to pull through, Nick had left his mother crying crocodile tears over her son, and gone out looking for Reg Riley. He’d found him hiding in the pub, dragged him outside and given him a taste of what he’d given his youngest boy. Such was Nick’s white-hot anger he would have killed him stone dead if some other men hadn’t dragged him off.
But Reg Riley had got the message. That night, while Nick and his mother were at the hospital, he had come home, packed his bags and left.
Nick had thought his mother might be grateful that her bullying husband was out of her life. But once the shock of what had happened to Danny had passed, June Riley quickly forgot who had been to blame for it.
‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ she wept now. ‘I need someone to look after me.’
‘Don’t cry, Mum. We’ll look after you.’ Danny hugged her tighter, burying his face in her neck. June pushed him away impatiently.
‘Get off me, for Gawd’s sake. You’re smothering me.’
Nick saw his brother’s trembling lip and his heart hardened. ‘I don’t know why you even bothered to come back,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you stay out drinking with your pals at the pub?’
‘Oh, believe me, I would if I could. Anything not to stay here in this dump and look at your depressing bloody face all day.’ June took a vicious drag on her cigarette. ‘I know it’s Christmas but they don’t give drinks away.’
‘You mean you couldn’t find some desperate bloke to buy them for you? You must be slipping.’ Nick’s lip curled. He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He could feel his mother’s eyes watching him keenly as he took out a ten shilling note and dropped it on the table in front of her.
‘I don’t want your money!’ she hissed.
‘Fine, I’ll take it back—’ He reached for the note, but June snatched it away before he could reach it.
‘I’ll take it for housekeeping,’ she sniffed through her tears. ‘You keep me short anyway. Someone has to put a roof over our heads.’
We wouldn’t have much of a roof if it was left to you, Nick thought. He’d been the man of the house since long before his useless father slung his hook, dodging school to do all kinds of odd jobs and errands. He’d sold scrap metal, worked as a bookie’s runner, even collected and sold horse manure. Anything to make a few pennies.
But not for much longer. One day soon he and Danny would be on their way to a better life in America. And his mother would have to find someone else to pay for her gin.
‘For the last time, Mum, will you come and have your dinner?’ Rose Doyle said in exasperation.
Nanna Winnie reluctantly put down the glass she had been holding up to the wall. ‘I’m only interested,’ she grumbled.
‘So am I,’ Bea piped up. ‘What’s going on, Nan?’
‘It’s none of our business,’ Rose said shortly. ‘Now, everyone, sit down at the table.’