The White Empress by Lyn Andrews

glistened, as though it were wet, in the dim light cast by the
     streetlamp further down. His eyes were small and close-set and she could smell the beer on his breath.
    ‘I’m waiting for my Pa, he’ll be along in a minute, so will my brother.’ She hoped she sounded convincing for a pang of fear
     gnawed at her stomach.
    ‘Are they now? Which pub are they in?’
    ‘The Coffee House. I think I can hear them coming now.’
    He turned his head slightly and then smirked at her. ‘Not unless they’re two drunken swabbies!’
    The two sailors passed by, holding each other upright, a bottle clasped in both their hands. She’d get no help from them.
     The fear was growing. She’d heard about girls who had been caught alone in the dark back streets.
    ‘Yer not a bad lookin’ judy, a bit skinny like, but not bad.’ He leaned closer and she backed further into the doorway, frantically
     wondering if she could make a dash for freedom for she guessed he wouldn’t be very quick on his feet.
    ‘Not thinking of runnin’ out on me are yer?’
    ‘I’ll scream! I’ll scream so loud that the scuffers will hear me!’
    ‘What about yer Pa and yer brother?’ He moved closer and reached out, his stubby fingers touching her small breast.
    She seized his hand and sank her teeth into the flesh as hard as she could.
    ‘Yer bleedin’ little bitch! Just fer that I’ll teach yer what happens to girls like you!’
    She felt his hands tearing at the calico of her blouse and she began to scream and struggle. He pushed her back against the
     wooden door, banging her head hard. A pain shot through her head and her vision clouded, but she still fought on, trying to
     claw at his face with her nails.
    She wasn’t fully aware of what was happening until she heard him swear again, then scream in agony before crumpling in a heap
     at her feet, clutching his groin.
    ‘My God, is that you, Cat Cleary? Are you alright, has he hurt you?’
    She had never heard anything so sweet as her name on the lips of Joe Calligan who had knocked down her attacker with one swift,
     well-aimed kick. She fell against his broad chest, giving way to the hysteria that had swept over her.
    He held her thin, trembling body tightly. He hadn’t known it was she. He had only known that some poor girl was being molested
     and he had instinctively gone to her aid. He hadn’t seen her since the day she had landed but it was obvious that things hadn’t
     got any better.
    When her sobs began to subside he lifted her face gently with his hand. ‘Did he hurt you, Cat? What are you doing here by
     yourself at this time? Come on, I’ll take you home.’
    She drew away from him. ‘No! No, I can’t go back there! I won’t go back there!’
    ‘Are things that bad?’
    She leaned her head against his chest again. Oh, if only he knew.
    ‘How long is it since you’ve eaten, Cat?’
    ‘I . . . I can’t remember.’
    ‘Then first of all let’s get some food inside you and then you can tell me what’s the matter.’
    ‘I don’t feel hungry, I feel sick.’
    ‘You will if you haven’t eaten and you’ve had a shock.’ He prodded the still-writhing figure contemptuously with the toe of
     his boot. ‘Come on, there’s a clean, cheap little cafe down past the station.’
    Suddenly she did feel hungry. She also felt a little calmer and with his arm supporting her she felt safe.
    Over a cup of steaming hot tea and a plate of fish and chips she related to Joe most of the events of that night and also
     those of the previous weeks.
    ‘So, nothing much has changed then?’
    She pushed the empty plate away and rested her chin on her elbows. ‘Nothing.’
    ‘You could take up Shelagh’s suggestion and get a job yourself. Is there something wrong with you that you can’t work?’
    ‘No! I told you, I’ve been looking after Ma and the house and seeing that our Eamon goes to school.’
    ‘From what I hear your Mam’s well looked after and it is Maisey’s house and