Mrs Whippy Read Online Free PDF Page B

front of the boys, Emelda.”
    â€œWhy? Afraid you’ll look like less of a man, Charlie?” Normally I would agree with him about not discussing this in front of the children. But the circumstances were different this time. His children were imitating his actions because they were being misled. He was not the person they thought he was.
    Brian stood up from the kitchen table and cleared his throat. “Da?”
    â€œNot now, Brian,” Charlie growled, staring at me.
    â€œYes now, Da,” Brian said forcefully.
    Charlie turned to face him in surprise. “What?”
    â€œI was talking to Mam yesterday.” Brian raised his chin and puffed out his chest. “And she said that she doesn’t mind if you take us to that match on Wednesday.”
    â€œEh … Wednesday?” Charlie said, looking nervous.
    â€œYeah, Wednesday,” Brian repeated.
    I was confused.
    Brian looked at me to explain. “Da said he had tickets for us for the match on Wednesday, but he couldn’t bring us because you said we couldn’t go. But you said it was OK, didn’t you?”
    I tried not to smile at what Brian was doing. Instead I nodded.
    â€œSee?” Brian said.
    â€œYes!” Mark jumped up from the table. He started dancing around and singing about how they were going to the match. My heart broke for him. I didn’t like this one bit.
    â€œNo, son,” Charlie said to Mark, trying to stop him from passing out with excitement. “Calm down. I … I … The tickets are … I don’t …” He stopped and looked to me for help.
    I shrugged.
    Charlie swallowed hard. “I
had
the tickets for you, lads. But when your mam said you couldn’t come I gave them to someone else.”
    Mark stopped jumping up and down. He looked at me with big sad eyes.
    â€œYou said we couldn’t go, Mammy?”
    â€œNo,” Brian cut in. “She didn’t say no. Da didn’t even ask her, did he?” Helooked at me. When I refused to answer, he looked at his father. “Did you?” he repeated, his eyes boring into Charlie.
    Charlie slowly turned to me with narrowed eyes. I could feel his hate. “You’ve poisoned them against me,” he hissed.
    He raised his hand and my hands flew to my face. Brian grabbed his dad’s raised arm and shouted, “Get out!”
    Little Mark began howling. I dived for him and held him in my arms until he stopped.
    There was a long silence.
    And then, right on cue, the sweet music of Mr Whippy sounded once again.

Eleven
    Mark’s eyes lit up. “Mammy! It’s your friend!”
    Charlie’s head snapped around to face me. “Is this your fancy man I’ve been hearing all about, Emelda? I’ve heard all about you chatting him up like you’re some young one. Are you forgetting who you are and what you look like? A fat –”
    â€œCharlie!” I warned, stopping him from continuing with his insults.
    I immediately grabbed Vincent by the hand and carried Mark out of theroom. I brought them to the Mr Whippy van. Their eyes lit up and their brows relaxed. Here they were allowed to be children again and to not worry about their parents.
    â€œAre you OK?” Mr Whippy asked, reading my hurt expression.
    â€œYes.” I smiled, his concern touching me. “I am now.”
    He returned the smile. “Now, what shall I get you boys? I remember you.” Mr Whippy looked at Mark. “Your name is Mark, isn’t that right?”
    Mark nodded happily, feeling very special.
    â€œAnd what’s your name?” He looked at Vincent.
    I held my breath, hoping and praying that I would hear Vincent’s voice again. It had been so long. I was afraid the scene in the kitchen would have set him back even more.
    Vincent looked at me with big, wide blue eyes. I nodded at him in encouragement. He looked back to Mr Whippy and opened his mouth. “Vincent,” he said,