Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

By this time the children were ready for bed. Those same planks and packing cases were now lain on the floor with blankets on them.

"Do you want to sleep on there with your cousins?" Nuala asked young Seamus, "or will you be sharing your Daddy's bed tonight?"

Seamus looked unsure as to which was the safer choice.

"They can both share my bed, if you like," I said. "They're used to sleeping like that from the ship."

"There's no bed in the house for you," Nuala said. "You can choose between that chair or the floor." She turned to her sons who were now settling themselves on the makeshift bed of planks. "You three move over and make room for your cousins. You can sleep head to toe, like sardines, for tonight. Tomorrow we'll have to work something out."

"No, I think I'll take the little ones in with me," Seamus said. "It's mighty cold in here tonight. I don't want them catching a chill on their first evening in New York."

I ended up in the chair. At least it was out of the draft that now swept in under the door. There was one kerosene stove, placed between the bedroom and the living room, but it did little to keep out the bitter cold. I wrapped myself in my shawl and hugged my knees to my chest, trying to stay warm. The sooner I got out of this place, the better, I decided. In the morning I'd look for a job and then ...

Then, just as I was dozing off to sleep, I felt a small hand brush against me.

"I'm scared," Bridie whispered. "I want to sleep with you." And she climbed up onto my lap. I held her close to me, and stroked her hair. Obviously I wouldn't be going

anywhere for a while.

I was awakened by the clatter of pots and pans. I opened my eyes but it wasn't yet light. I could just make out the large shape of Nuala, bustling around in the darkness. Finally I had to answer the call of nature. I had avoided the bucket in the corner that everyone else had used during the night and I asked, tactfully, where the lavatory might be.

"Down in the yard at the back. But there's still the bucket in the corner. Fin hasn't thrown it out yet."

"Thanks, but I'll go down."

I held onto the wall as I went down. It felt damp and icy to the touch. Behind the stairs a back door swung open to the narrowest courtyard you could imagine. It was actually a well in the middle of a tall building. If you stood in the middle, you could almost touch both walls. I looked up and saw line after line of laundry, all stiff with frost, hanging in the dark like so many ghosts. I shivered. This was a terrible place. I just hoped that Seamus would get the children out of here in a hurry.

There were two outhouses on one side, both filthy and smelly. We had an outhouse at home, but my father always made sure it stayed clean. I used it, and hurried back inside. I paused at the sink in the hallway to wash my face and hands. By the time I reached the apartment again, the children were up and Nuala had put doorstops of bread and mugs of tea on the table. Seamus appeared with his son in tow, both looking bleary eyed and tousle haired.

"Sorry I have to leave you today, son," Seamus said, "but I can't take another day off or the foreman will fire me. Your auntie Nuala has to be at the fish market at six but Miss Molly and your cousins will keep an eye on you, I expect."

"Shouldn't we enroll Seamus at a school?" I asked. "You boys go to school, don't you?"

"They're supposed to," Nuala said, glaring at them, "At least until Malachy can get a job as a delivery boy at the fish market next year."

"Oh, Ma, school is for sissies," Malachy said. He turned to me. "The only school around here is full of Jews."

"And what's wrong with that?" I asked. "Do they beat you up?"

"Jewish kids beat us up?" Malachy grinned at Thomas. "Nah, they don't go in for fighting, but they don't like us. They don't want us there. The teacher is Jewish, too--she's always saying we make trouble."

"Well, I expect she's not wrong,"

Nuala said.

"And they're always speaking Yiddish to each other so we can't understand them," Thomas said. "Even the teacher speaks Yiddish sometimes. And you know what? They like reading and writing. They take books home with them and all."

"They're a lot of sissies," James agreed. "We can lick 'em easy. Can't we, Mal?"

"Well, I want you going to school, young man," Seamus said. "Your mother would want you going to school." He paused, looking down at his son with tenderness. "But I suppose you can take a few days to settle in first. Better to wait until we see where we'll be living."

Nuala and Seamus left soon after, Finbar slept undisturbed in the corner, and the boys wanted to take young Seamus out to show him the neighborhood. Seamus insisted on taking Bridie with him, although she wanted to stay with me.