Matty Doolin Read Online Free PDF

silence, Mr Doolin’s voice, loud now, came to them, crying, ‘Well! This is the finish. It’ll go, an’ I’ll see that he stumps up out of his pocket money and gets me a new pair of slippers.’
    The injustice of this last remark brought Matty’s eyes wide. Those particular slippers had been worn out years ago.
    But now Mr Doolin was coming into the kitchen. He was a thickset man, of medium height, and his hair was grey and strong looking, as was his face. Stubborn would be a better descriptive word here, for his lower jaw was squarish, and his nose blunt. But his mouth, when not pursed in some reprimand or dogmatic argument, looked kindly, as did his eyes.
    ‘Well, me lad, what’s this I’m hearin’?’ Mr Doolin took his seat at the table and drank from a cup of tea which was already awaiting him, before slanting his glance towards Matty, adding, ‘Well, what have you to say?’
    Matty didn’t know whether his father was alluding to his fighting or to Nelson, so he said, ‘Nothing; me mam’s told it to you all.’
    ‘Now, now! I’m having none of your lip.’
    ‘I’m not giving you any lip.’ Matty’s hand nervously stroked the dog’s head, while Nelson cast a baleful glance up at the man sitting at the table. And the dog actually shrank closer to Matty as the finger came thrusting down towards him and Mr Doolin’s deep voice cried, with finality, ‘It’s the end. It’s gone past enough. He’s going.’
    Yet as awful as the final verdict was it wasn’t delivered in the manner that Matty had expected, and he looked slowly sideways up at his father, and as he did so he realised that his father was in a good mood.
    Mrs Doolin’s voice broke Matty’s concentrated stare as she said, ‘Come on, get up out of that and have your tea . . . Come on, Joe.’
    ‘Oh, thanks, Mrs Doolin.’ Joe’s smile was spread from ear to ear. He looked up at Matty’s mam as if he was surprised at the invitation.
    As Mrs Doolin placed plates of egg and chips before the boys, and one, to which was added a thick steak, in front of her husband, Matty’s suspicion that his father was in a good mood was more than proved, for Mr Doolin, with a wry smile on his face, now bent his body towards Joe and asked in a confidential tone, ‘How would you like to come here as a lodger?’
    Under the circumstances the question might have appeared tactless, as this was Joe’s third tea visit in a week, but Matty knew that had his father been really annoyed at Joe’s presence he would have remained sullenly quiet until the boy had gone, and then let off steam.
    Matty, forgetting for the moment the ominous fate that hung over Nelson, grinned at his pal, as Joe, not to be put out by any unsubtle jibes, jerked his head at his host and replied brightly, ‘Oh, I’d like that fine, Mr Doolin.’
    ‘You would?’
    ‘Aye, I would fine.’
    ‘And why?’ Mr Doolin enquired, although he was asking what he well knew.
    ‘Aw, well, ’cos Matty’s mam’s a grand cook an’ she keeps everything nice like.’
    Mr Doolin shook his head, this time in approval, and, looking to where his wife was seating herself at the other end of the table, he said, ‘Well, what do you think of that, eh?’
    ‘I think Joe’s full of blarney.’ Mrs Doolin’s voice sounded prim but she looked kindly towards the small boy. Then, her voice still holding the prim note, she said quickly, ‘Get on with your teas; everything will be clay cold.’
    The boys needed no second bidding. And it was such a good substantial tea, and the atmosphere was so genial, which under the circumstances appeared strange to Matty, that he would have felt totally happy at the moment if it hadn’t been for the warm body pressed against his legs patiently waiting for that last titbit from his plate.
    It wasn’t until the meal was almost finished that the atmosphere changed. It was brought about quite suddenly as Joe, still aiming to be gallant, looked at Mrs Doolin and said,