Coming Home to the Four Streets by Nadine Dorries (best books to read for success .txt) 📕

that she was one of the few women he met on his round who, despite the early hour, still appeared glamorous at the start of the day. Her twinkling blue eyes and her full lips hinted at a generous and caring nature. ‘I don’t know why you gave that horse a cow’s name,’ she complained as Eric leant against the wall and sipped his tea.

He grinned over the rim of the cup. ‘You’re losing your marbles, you are. You said the same thing to me yesterday. Nice cuppa…’ He held the cup up in a mock salute. ‘Me losing my marbles, you say that every day, too.’

She chided him gently. ‘One day, Eric, I’ll sleep in and then maybe you might appreciate the sacrifice I make, getting up every morning to look after you two.’

Eric’s heart swelled with pleasure; Maggie always included Daisy Bell whenever she referred to him and it gave him an inordinate amount of pleasure.

‘Ah, well, that would be a sad day, I can’t imagine how Daisy Bell would feel if we took this corner and her sugar treat wasn’t waiting for her, it would break her heart, it would.’ His words caught in his throat and he could say no more. They both knew he was referring to himself, not the mare. The air between them felt heavy and still, knowing as they did that it wouldn’t be the lack of the tea that broke his heart. Maggie fractured the moment, distracted by something she sensed more than heard and he was grateful. They often did this, allowed their conversation to wander from matter of fact to flirtatious, but ending it as quickly as it began because neither had any notion where to go next.

‘Don’t look now, Eric,’ she said, ‘we’re being watched.’

Eric made to turn and stopped himself just in time. ‘Is it Peggy by any chance?’

‘Aye, Peggy,’ she said.

Eric dropped the last of his cigarette onto the pavement and stubbed it out with his toe, then took another swig of his tea. ‘Here, hold this,’ he said as he handed her the cup and then extracted a tobacco tin from his large pocket. He took out two cigarettes and passed one to Maggie. He glanced sideways up the street. ‘Since Maura and Tommy left, my life has been much harder managing the likes of Peggy,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Maura used to nip out and take an extra pint or two to give to Peggy if she thought the kids were going without. She would always say, “Put it on my bill, Eric.” And then, she would get the money from Peggy in her own time, in her own way. I would get mine on a Friday night, as normal, and there would be no grief waiting for me back at home. She was a saint, Maura was. She knew Gladys made my life hell if I gave in to Peggy.’

‘Isn’t your life always hell?’ asked Maggie, placing the cigarette between her lips. Their eyes met and held. As always, she looked away first. Despite the rumours that flew around the four streets, Eric never spoke about Gladys in a derogatory manner or confirmed what most knew of his life to be true. He flicked over her comment as if it were a page in a book he had no desire to read.

‘Maura saved me from having to make excuses, aye. Step back into the hall, Maggie, it’s too brisk for you to be stood on the step.’

Her comfort, her life, was always at the forefront of his thoughts. She did as she was told and took a step backwards as she took her petrol lighter from her pocket and, flicking the lid back, held it under the cigarette that dangled from Eric’s lips. He inhaled the fumes from the petrol before he pulled up the flame and the stray ends of tobacco sizzled in the Rizla. Their eyes met and held again, despite the best intentions of both. They lived by the rules because Eric was a married man. This morning ritual was the closest they came to intimacy and, as she leant forwards, she inhaled the earthy smell of him, the morning air and Old Spice, cigarette smoke and horse. It felt to Eric as though the world stopped spinning on its axis, as if, for those captured seconds, he was someone else, sharing a harmonious life with someone who cared. This morning their eyes lingered on each other for longer than usual before she drew on the flame herself, the lid of the lighter snapped shut and she slipped it back into her cardigan pocket. The moment was gone, over and done, until tomorrow.

‘Yes, that was Maura all over for you,’ she said. ‘She kept this street in order, she did. Just look at the state of Peggy’s nets. They were never like that when Maura was around. And I’ll tell you what, Maura did get the money back off Peggy right enough; she made sure of it. She ran that house next door as well as her own. God love them, if there was a family that deserved good luck, it was theirs. Terrible thing that, losing their Kitty. I promised Maura before she left that I’d keep an eye out for little Paddy and the others. It’s not the kids’ fault they’ve got a mam and da like Peggy and big Paddy.’

Eric agreed. ‘No, that’s why I always feel bad when she asks me for the milk. Breaks my heart it does to see a kid go hungry.’

Maggie looked up at Eric. His shoulders were broad and he was a good eight inches taller than she was, his complexion lined and cragged from spending hours of his day outdoors, his eyes dark and deep and his hair, cut into a style only just longer than when he was in the army, poked out from under his waterproof white cap. If anyone saw them together, they would say ‘there’s