The White Empress Read Online Free PDF Page A

too tired and
     too ill to care very deeply about it. If this pleasant lad could just get them all together it would be a small blessing.
    With strict instructions to them all to ‘stay put’ he was off and before long was back, grinning widely as he supported her
     staggering father and followed by a glowering Shelagh.
    ‘Here he is, safe and sound and at least he’s not paralytic drunk!’
    ‘He’s not far off it! I’ve had the divil’s own job with him, that I have! Trust you, Cat, to go dashing off and leaving me
     with him!’ Shelagh was perspiring and her thin dress was sticking to her body. Cat noticed that Joe’s eyes strayed to the
     thrusting breasts, outlined by the damp cotton, and she felt embarrassed and annoyed. He was her friend and he had no right
     to look at her sister like that!
    ‘Well, now what are we going to do? Have you still got that address Paddy O’Dwyer gave you, Pa?’
    ‘It’s no use asking him, you’ll get no sense out of him! I’ll look in his pockets.’ Shelagh made a thorough search of the
     pockets of the greasy old jacket. They revealed nothing but a torn rag that sufficed as a handkerchief. And a few pennies.
     At the sight of the coins Cat’s heart sank further. Obviously this was all that was left of the money he had had when they
     sailed.
    ‘Nothing there, you hold him still while I try his trouser pockets,’ Shelagh instructed Joe.
    Apart from a few obscure articles, the first pocket revealed no piece of paper, but with a small cry of triumph Shelagh drew
     out of the second pocket a creased, dirty scrap of paper on which handwriting was just visible. She scrutinised it closely
     then shoved it towards Cat in disgust.
    ‘I can’t read it, the paper’s too creased and dirty. You try!’
    Cat took it from her. Her sister’s protest was just an excuse. Shelagh couldn’t read. She screwed up her eyes for the writing
     was very small and almost obliterated by greasy fingermarks.
    ‘Here, give it to me! At least I know the names of the streets round here!’ Unceremoniously Joe dumped the sagging figure
     of Mick Cleary down on the cobbles. He studied the scrap of paper. ‘It looks like Eldon Street.’
    ‘Where’s that? How far is it?’ Cat questioned.
    ‘Just off Vauxhall Road, but it’s a fair walk up Chapel Street, Tithebarn Street and past Exchange Station. It’s almost opposite
     Tate and Lyle’s Sugar Refinery.’
    Her gaze rested on the sprawling figure of her father. Joe read her thoughts.
    ‘You won’t get far with him in that state, the scuffers will chuck him in the battle-taxi – drunk and incapable!’
    The look she returned him was confused and he laughed. ‘It’s “scouse” for the police and the prison van. You’ll have to get
     the tram, if they’ll let him on!’
    ‘And what are we going to use for tram fare?’
    ‘Its only tuppence, how much did he have in his pockets?’ The question was directed at Shelagh.
    She looked at the coins in her hand. ‘Fourpence ha’penny.’
    ‘That will pay for Ma and Pa.’ Cat said resolutely.
    ‘How’s Ma going to manage him? If he starts yelling they’ll both get thrown off.’ Shelagh retorted hotly.
    Cat glared at her, she knew her sister of old. She would never walk anywhere if she could help it. ‘Well, Ma’s not walking,
     she’s not well enough!’
    ‘Hell! This is turning into Fred Carno’s circus! Here, take this!’ Joe held out a silver shilling. ‘You’ll have enough left
     over to get your Ma a cup of tea, she looks as though she could do with one! Go on, take it!’
    Before Cat had a chance to tell him that she wanted none of his charity, Shelagh had grabbed the shilling. Cat could cheerfully
     have slapped her face.
    ‘Now go up the floating roadway, there’s a tea stall up there, get your Ma a cup and take meladdo here with you, I can’t keep
     my eye on you all!’ He pushed young Eamon gently in Shelagh’s direction, then turned to Mrs Cleary. ‘You sit