The Nationalists.

CHAPTER 14

Minnie had become estranged from her neighbours.

Her daughter Maggie had given birth to a baby boy. It was yet another mouth to feed.

She had met a new man, who helped in bringing more money into the house, but it was the Queen's shilling. The new man in her life was hated in the vicinity, not because he was English, but because he was one of those hated 'Tans'.

Minnie didn't care what her neighbours thought.

She had mouths to feed.

She didn't really notice the visits of her friends drying up, and she ignored their warnings about her new man. His name was Hugh Stewart, and he possessed a hulking violent presence in Minnie's home.

Behind her back he gloated to his friends in barracks about the bit of Irish ass he had every night.

In the neighbourhood he was feared.

He kept Minnie's children in line, often by giving the lads a belt around the ear, and usually when she wasn't around.

He had a hold on Minnie that was frightening to see, but Minnie was no spring chicken anymore, and the years of childbirths were catching rapidly up.

Hugh was often drunk.

His language was like his appearance - unkempt. He had shaggy hair which would never have been tolerated in the regular forces of the Crown.

They called him Shaggy in the tenements, but never to his face. His long mane of hair reminded them of one of the dogs in the streets.

He sat now in Minnie's sitting room, watching her knit a sweater, whilst drinking a bottle of Guinness.

"Waste of time," he muttered, darkly.

"What is?" Minnie's tone was patient.

"K...knitting," he slurred.

Minnie eyed him over her glasses, but continued her work. "It keeps me busy."

"Let's go to bed," he suggested.

She gave him a look. "Not now. I'm not in the mood. Besides you're drunk."

"I ain't drunk."

Minnie laughed. "You're as drunk as a skunk."

He stood up and slapped her. Her knitting hit the ground as she fingered her cut mouth in shock. He had never lifted a finger to her before.

Minnie was a tough Dublin character. She eyed this hulking presence in her home and launched herself at him, her hands clawing at his face and digging deep into his flesh.

He laughed and threw her off.

"Get out," she screamed at him.

Mercifully he went.

Shaggy was mumbling into his whisky bottle.

He still couldn't believe Minnie had attacked him. He fingered the welts along his face and mumbled: "I'll fucking show her who's boss later.

The boozer was about to shut.

Shaggy spotted Lucy leaving the pub on her own. He followed. Another piece of nice ass, he thought.

He caught up with her, and dragged her into a laneway. His senses dulled by drink, he tried kissing her, but she struggled away, her knee coming up into his groin.

Shaggy was so drunk he didn't feel the pain.

He clamped his hand over Lucy's mouth to drown her scream. His other hand reached down, ripping her clothes, moving between her legs.