Little Girl Lost Read Online Free PDF Page A

there, then I’ll send you enough money to keep you going until the baby’s born,’ he said. ‘Caitlin’s married to a feller called Pat. They’ve a grosh of kids and live in a couple of rooms off Francis Street, in a place called Handkerchief Alley, but Caitlin’s got a heart as big as a bus and we’ve always been good friends. I’ll write and ask her if she’ll take you in and I’m sure she’ll do her best to help you, particularly if in return you give a hand wit’ the kids and the cleanin’ an’ such.’
    Sylvie clasped her hands round his arm and then, to his great astonishment, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all the help you’re givin’ me,’ she said humbly. ‘But I thank you from the bottom of my heart.’ She glanced down at herself. ‘How long will it be before Caitlin’s reply to your letter arrives, do you think?’
    ‘Well, I’ll do me best,’ Brendan said. ‘But if all goes according to plan, I’d hope to get you off to Ireland in two or three weeks.’ He took her arm and began to lead her towards the Ferryman. ‘If someone happens to have seen us together, just tell ’em the scuffer were a bit doubtful as to why you were on the streets so late at night and insisted on accompanying you home.’
    ‘But you aren’t in your uniform,’ Sylvie objected. ‘Anyway, nobody will be awake, not at this hour. Ma- and Pa-in-law sleep in the big double bedroom overlookin’ the main road, but Bertie will have put the back-door key on the nail above the lintel when he left. He keeps the lock oiled so I can get in without a sound and be in my bed five minutes after that. Becky won’t wake; she sleeps like a log, the little darling. She shares my room, of course, but she hardly ever wakes me. Ma-in-law will have put her to bed at around seven o’clock; I work evenings, cleaning in Lewis’s on Ranelagh Street when the store closes, and I often go on to Annie’s after that, so they won’t have wondered where I am.’
    ‘Oh, I didn’t realise you worked away from home. That’ll make things a good deal easier,’ Brendan said. ‘What time do you finish your cleaning job? I could meet you at the back entrance of Lewis’s if I were off duty.’
    Sylvie tilted her head in thought. ‘I’m usually done between nine and ten,’ she said. ‘It would be grand if you could meet me out of work; why, you could walk me home and we could talk – then it would be you that Len tore limb from limb!’ She gave his hand a quick squeeze to show that she was joking. ‘It’s ever so good of you, Brendan. I do Monday to Friday at the store.’
    Brendan took her elbow and steered her round to the back of the pub, lowering his voice to a confidential murmur. ‘Is that the back gate? Yes, I reckon it must be; don’t they lock it at night?’
    ‘No, because the dustmen come early, sometimes before anyone’s up,’ Sylvie said, raising the latch and slipping into the cobbled courtyard beyond. She dropped her voice to a murmur so low that Brendan had difficulty in catching her words. ‘There’s no need to come any further and you’ve a fair walk home. See you tomorrow!’
    Brendan, however, accompanied her to the door and reached up to the lintel to hand her the key from where it hung on its nail. ‘I don’t know how you would have fetched it down if I hadn’t been here,’ he remonstrated. ‘You’re not tall enough to reach the lintel, let alone the key.’
    In the tricky moonlight, he saw her lips curve into a mischievous smile. ‘See that bucket?’ she whispered. ‘Bertie always leaves it there, upside down, so all I have to do is step on to it real carefully and fetch the key down in a trice. Now you know all my secrets . . . and there’s no one I’d rather trust than yourself.’
    Brendan was about to bashfully disclaim when she took the key from him and turned it in the lock. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before