Never Broken (23 page)

“I don’t want to be lonely,” Ainslee said, her voice tiny and barely audible above the din of the crowded street. She let out a bitter chuckle. “I know that sounds daft since we’re surrounded by people.”

“Not daft. And you won’t be lonely. We’ll find a church right away. I’m sure you can continue your studies and then enter one of the convents here.”

“What if I don’t want to be a nun anymore?”

Shannon was surprised by her sister’s revelation but tried not to let Ainslee know. “Then God will have another plan for you. Whatever path He’s laid out, you will not be alone.” She grinned. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you.” After a moment Ainslee added, “’Tis an odd thing.”

“’Tis many an odd thing happenin’ in our lives right now.” Shannon winked. “Ye need to be specific.”

“You seem to have more faith now than you did back home.”

Again, Shannon was surprised, since moments before she’d been struggling with doubt. Yet despite everything, it was clear God hadn’t abandoned them. “When all seems lost,” she said, more to herself than to her twin, “faith is all you have.”

It didn’t take them long to
reach the tenement building. Rory stopped in front of it and cast his gaze upward. The bricks were black from the smoke of the steel and coal mines nearby. The stench of human waste hung thick in the air. When he saw a woman throw dank water from a wooden bucket out the fourth-floor window onto the ground below, he understood what caused the foul odor. Children played nearby, without coats and some without shoes, as winter winds threatened to chill them to the bone. The high spirits he’d gained from meeting O’Connolly disintegrated. He’d grown up living in hovels, and he was about to move into another one.

He looked to Shannon and Ainslee, expecting to see the same defeated reaction on their faces. There were poor folk in Ballyclough, yet at least they had the land in all its beautiful, pastoral splendor. Here there was no grass, no greenery, no fresh air. Only bricks and coal and smoke and destitution.

But if the condition of the housing and its tenants repulsed the sisters, they didn’t say so. They looked at each other, the tilt of their chins rising almost in unison. Their reaction helped him hold his tongue. “Let’s find the landlord,” he said as he forged past the dirty, yet seemingly carefree children, and stepped inside the building.

He knocked on the first door he saw. Footsteps approached, followed by the sound of wood scraping on wood. The door opened, revealing a middle-aged, balding man with the stub of a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. He removed the cigar and blew smoke in Rory’s face. “What?” he grumbled.

“We’re lookin’ for a place to stay,” Rory tried not to choke on the stale smoke.

“Och, I figured that,” the man said, wedging the cigar between his teeth. “If ye weren’t, ye wouldna be here.”

Although the man’s Gaelic accent was thick, Rory had little difficulty understanding him. “Could you tell us how to find the landlord?”

“Right ’ere, lad. Fergus McCabe, at yer service.” He stepped out of the doorway, his gaze noticing the women for the first time. “Are they with ye?”

“Aye,” Shannon said, moving to stand next to Rory. “But we’ll need two flats.”

Rory glanced down at Shannon, then peeked over his shoulder at Ainslee. He saw the relief on Ainslee’s face. He was relieved too. He hadn’t talked to Shannon about it, but he wanted to be wed before they lived together again. He’d been telling her the truth when he said he couldn’t be strong for both of them. He wouldn’t be able to pay double rent for long, but he would search for work as soon as he secured the flats. He prayed they would all find jobs soon.

He turned back to McCabe. “We’re cousins, you see,” he said, lying again about their relationship.

“Sorry, lad. “I ’ave one flat left.”

“Then can you direct us to another place that has more vacancies?” Rory asked.

McCabe’s bushy brow furrowed as he looked Rory up and down. “From what part of Ireland ye from?”

“County Cork.”

“You sound more citified than that.” He looked at Shannon, then at Ainslee.

Rory knew what McCabe was thinking. The Cahill sisters were dressed in little more than rags while he wore a suit and frock coat. Granted his clothes had seen better days and his hair was in desperate need of a cut, but he still gave the appearance of someone with decent financial prospects. Nay, they didn’t look like they belonged together.

McCabe finally shrugged. “’Tisn’t my business who you are or what you do with yerselves.”

“I don’t understand,” Shannon started.

Rory put his hand on her shoulder for a moment to quiet her.

“Housin’ is sparse. Has been for a long time. Several families livin’ in the same flat is commonplace. Not many can afford the luxury of two places.” He leaned forward. “But if ye got enough coin, I can ’ave an extra flat for ye by tonight.”

Taking a step back, Rory shook his head, understanding the man’s meaning. McCabe was trying to extort extra money. Not only did Rory not have that kind of coin, he wouldn’t be the reason a family got evicted from their residence. He also didn’t have the time or the energy right now to scour Glasgow for two empty flats. “I believe we can manage with one,” he said, not daring to look at Shannon and Ainslee.

McCabe put the cigar stub between his teeth and shut the door. “Then I’ll show ye the way.”

Rory allowed McCabe to pass in the narrow, dark hallway. The landlord shuffled to a nearby entryway and motioned for the three of them to follow. Rory lingered for a moment with Shannon and Ainslee. “‘Twill only be temporary,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’ll find us separate quarters soon. Right now we need shelter.”

Shannon exchanged glances with Ainslee, who nodded.

“Are ye comin’ or not?” McCabe shouted.

He directed a small smile to the twins, then followed McCabe, who led them up three flights of stairs. Finally, they reached the top floor of the tenement. Rory’s stomach lurched. Even the stairwell had a sour, acrid smell to it as if it were also a repository for waste.

Stopping at the third door, the man balled his fist and banged on it. “Open up! Open up, I say!”

Rory paled. “There’s someone livin’ here?”

The man turned to him. “Like I said, lad, there’re someone livin’ everywhere. Consider yerself blessed that there’s only three tenants here. Two an’ a half actually, since the daughter is only a wisp of a lass. The six o’ you will ’ave plenty o’ space.”

Plenty of space? Was the man daft? Dread churned inside Rory. Their dire straits had now grown dangerously critical.

McCabe banged on the door again. “Did ya hear me, ya bugger? I said open up!”

Rory didn’t understand why McCabe had to be rude or forceful. Then the door slowly creaked opened and Rory looked up into the face of one of the tallest, broadest men he’d ever seen. His arms looked like they could break a man in two. His eyes looked like he had hurt people in the past and now regretted it. Rory suspected the man wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.

McCabe turned to Rory. “Two months rent, up front, an’ payable on the first of the month after that. What did ye say yer name was?”

“O’Leary. Rory O’Leary.”

McCabe turned to the gigantic man. “Lad, lassies, meet your new roommate, Iain Mackay.”

Shannon edged into the
small, musty room while Rory talked specifics with the landlord. How could they possibly live here? McCabe had exaggerated when he said they would have plenty of space.

The room contained two beds, a large cot, and a smaller one. In the corner, a middle-aged woman rose from a rickety chair, a tattered blanket hanging loosely over her thin shoulders. She held a small child in her arms. The woman didn’t step forward, her gaze wide with surprise.

“Are you playin’ some kind of joke, McCabe?” said a deep male voice.

Whirling around, Shannon saw a huge man tower over the landlord. McCabe stared at him a few seconds before he moved his tobacco stained fingers holding his stub of a cigar to his lips. He inhaled, held his breath, then released it, his puff forming a perfect smoke ring.

“Stay or go, Mackay, it matters none to me.” The corners of his lips eased into a wickedly crooked grin. “But good luck findin’ another place as nice as this one.”

Shannon shivered. McCabe considered this place nice? She may have grown up as the daughter of a poor tenant farmer in a one-room cottage, but that now seemed elegant compared to this hovel.

A single candle flickered on a wobbly table near the hearth, its light insufficient for the room. The planked floor buckled. The paper peeled from the walls. And the ever present stench of tenement living swirled around them. However, the room was tidy. A blanket lay neatly folded on each bed, and the floor was swept clean.

“Where will we sleep?” Iain asked.

“’Tis not my concern. That’s for ye to sort out.” He turned to Rory. “Rent. Now. Or get out.”

Rory gave Iain an apologetic look before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few bills. He counted the amount McCabe quoted and pocketed the rest, which Shannon knew was very little. The reality of their situation hit her squarely. Surely there were better places to live in Glasgow. If Rory had more money, they wouldn’t be here. Rory was stalwart, and although he kept his expression inscrutable, she could see the hopelessness in his blue eyes. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for us. She longed to move closer to him, but she couldn’t. They were cousins, now, and she had no idea how long they would have to keep up the lie.

She glanced at Ainslee. Her sister’s eyes were closed, her lips moving. Was she praying for God’s forgiveness, not only for the lie, but for everything? Shannon added her own silent prayers.

“Welcome home,” McCabe said to Rory, cramming his cigar back into his mouth. The despicable man turned and scampered out of the room as if trying to escape before someone stopped him. As he left, he reached behind him and slammed the door.

They all stood in silence, unsure what to do. Iain continued to glare while the older woman and child averted their gazes. For a brief moment, Shannon wondered if they were married, even though the woman looked old enough to be his mother.
We’ll soon find out since we’ll all be living together.

Finally Rory stepped forward, extending his hand to Iain. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay,” he said.

Iain glanced down at Rory’s hand but made no move to shake it. “I never said I’d be lettin’ you, but it seems it is not my decision. You paid your money same as me. I’ve not been given a choice, and I have no say in the matter.”

Rory cleared his throat. “Well, it seems we have none either.” He put his hand on Shannon’s waist and guided her close to Iain. “My cousins, Shannon and Ainslee Cahill.”

“Good afternoon,” Shannon said, staying close to Rory’s side, not wanting to get near Iain Mackay.

His shoulder length brown hair tumbled around his face like a wild lion’s mane. His cold brown eyes looked just as fierce. The sheer size of him made her flinch.

Then she glanced at Ainslee. Her sister didn’t seem afraid. Instead, she seemed mesmerized. Her gaze stayed steady on Iain, then moved up and down his body. Shannon saw Ainslee’s cheeks redden and her eyes grow wide as if she realized what she’d done.

Iain also must have realized because he turned and glared at Ainslee. “You figure out where you sleep. I don’t care. The food in the house is mine; you’ll have to buy your own. Same with everythin’ else. And them,” he said, gesturing to the woman and child in the corner, “Leave them alone. They don’t need anyone botherin’ them. They’ve been through enough.” He grabbed his hat and coat off the peg on the wall and stormed out the door without another word.

The slamming of the door seemed to pull the woman out of her stupor. She slowly walked toward them, holding the child close. “I’m Mary Mackay,” she said in a soft voice. “I apologize for my son’s rudeness.”

“There’s no need.” Rory’s hand dropped from Shannon’s waist. He turned to her. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are ye goin’?”

“To find Mr. Mackay. He’s angry, but he’ll also know where I can find work. Can you and Ainslee settle us in?”

“Of course.” They stared at each other for a moment. All Shannon wanted was to be in his arms, to stroke his hair, to kiss his cheek and lips, and tell him everything would be all right. She had faith, or at least she was trying to. But she couldn’t do any of those things. All she could do was step away from him.

“I’ll prepare a meal,” Mary said.

“Let me give you money for food.” Rory dug in his pockets.

She shook her head. “Whatever we have here is yours, despite what my son said.” She smiled, and a little color returned to her face. “Hurry. You may still catch up with him.”

Rory gave Shannon one last look, and for a second she could see the longing in his eyes.

“Mamma?”

The child lifted her head from Mary’s shoulders and looked at Shannon and Ainslee. “Who are they?”

“Friends, Blaire. They’re our friends.”

Before Rory closed the door behind him, Shannon followed. She couldn’t let him go, not yet. Without a word to the other women, she went after him. “Rory,” she called to him as he was about to disappear down the stairwell.

“Shannon, go back to the flat.”