Eve of the Isle by Carol Rivers Page A

pudding.’
    The carefully quartered cubes of bread pudding had vanished along with the tea. But Eve had hoped for a hot meal for the twins, if not herself and Peg. She guessed that Harold hadn’t the courage to give them more.
    What would happen in the morning? It was Monday, and Harold would probably be going to work. Would Joan chuck them out on the street as soon as he left?
    Eve woke with a start. There was no familiar chintz curtain beside her and she was curled in an armchair. Where was she? Rivulets of moisture ran down the unfamiliar window, pooling on the sill. Then she remembered. Pushing herself from the chair she glanced at the bed where three small bodies were top and tailed. Eve recalled stumbling there in the middle of the night, lowering Albert from her arms into the warmth of the coats. She had tucked him in and he hadn’t woken. Now they all slept soundly.
    Eve pulled her shawl around her and replaced the antimacassar in the wardrobe. She listened for sounds and heard a faint shuffling. Opening the door quietly she peered into the dark passage. A door opened and Harold emerged. He saw her and turned to close the bedroom door quietly behind him. Treading lightly towards her, he whispered, ‘This way to the kitchen.’
    Eve followed. The kitchen was small, without table or chairs. To the right was a larder, a wooden drainer and sink. The stove stood beside a workmanlike mangle under the window. The dirty glass let in the dawn’s light, showing railings beyond that skirted all the outside balconies. There was washing already out on some of the lines strung in succession from door to door. Againstthe whiteness, the smoky black brick of the tenement looked grimy and depressing.
    â€˜Joan sleeps late,’ Harold warned her with a nervous smile. ‘I’m off to work.’
    â€˜Where’s that?’ enquired Eve.
    â€˜The Commercial Road,’ replied Harold, pulling himself up another inch. ‘Gentlemen’s good quality attire, you know, a professional establishment of widespread repute.’
    â€˜Oh,’ Eve nodded. ‘Very nice.’
    â€˜By the way, I heard on the radio this morning that much of the city has been flooded. Over your way most of the streets have been affected.’
    â€˜But we must go home.’ Eve shivered as they stood in the cold kitchen.
    â€˜I know, my dear.’ Harold moved closer. Eve could smell the grease he used on his thin, flattened hair and bristly moustache. ‘My sympathies are with you. But I fear you may have to wait.’
    â€˜Joan won’t like that,’ said Eve worriedly.
    Harold smiled thoughtfully, showing browned, uneven teeth under the abundance of facial hair. ‘I could put a good word in for you.’
    Eve pulled her shawl tighter around her. She didn’t like the look in Harold’s puffy eyes.
    â€˜I’ll speak to her tonight.’ Harold lay his damp, plump hand on her arm as he put his face close. ‘I have no objection to you being here . . . none at all, in fact it’s . . . refreshing to have such pleasant company . . .’ His thineyebrows rose above a sickly smile and Eve wanted to recoil as he breathed over her. He gripped her tighter. ‘I’m sure if you tried, you could win my wife over. A cup of tea in bed and a little breakfast? A few kind words?’ His hand ran up and down her arm. His eyes shone as he pushed against her.
    Eve turned her face, the hairs on her neck standing up. She wanted to run out of the kitchen, but he was holding on to her. His other hand rose. ‘You have such pretty hair . . .’
    Before Eve could react, a little voice made them both jump. ‘Mum, I want a wee.’
    Eve said a prayer of thanks as she moved quickly to Albert, pulling him into her arms. ‘Let’s go and wake Samuel, then all go together.’
    Harold reached for his coat and said briefly, ‘Good day to you.’
    They watched him bustle