The Four Streets Read Online Free

churned at the excitement and expectation of another. Might there be more? Could this be possible? Could life really be that good? Could Jerry, a farmer’s son from Mayo, really be this lucky?
    He was. They met almost every night until the day they married, even if it meant Jerry had to walk to the hotel when Bernadette had only her break time free. He would stand at the staff entrance until she could slip out, just for a snatched kiss, to reassure himself she was happy. On her day off she would run down to the docks and spend it at his auntie’s house on the street, enjoying the comfort of having a place where she could spend her time and wait for Jerry to finish work. On Sundays they would attend mass at St Mary’s church together and walk along the shore as far as Waterloo.
    They were blissfully in love and, after nearly a year of steady work, Jerry asked Bernadette to marry him. He popped the question in the café at the Pier Head where they had their first proper date. Bernadette could not have been happier. He even got down on one knee as the customers and staff cheered and clapped. They both cried a little as an elderly man from Eire came up to them on his way out of the café and pressed a brown ten-shilling note into Jerry’s palm as he left.
    ‘For the babby when it comes,’ he said, and winked as he left.
    They both thought they would burst with joy. But this did not distract them from the plans they had. Jerry and Bernadette spent a great deal of time mapping out their future. When Jerry’s aunt suddenly died, it was a shock to everyone, but luckily, shortly after Jerry had moved in with his aunt, she had put his name on the rent book, which meant that he could remain in the house without question. The houses on the streets had transferred from one generation to the next in this manner ever since the first wave of immigrants had flooded through the gates of Clarence dock during the potato famine.
    However, the pressure was too great for Jerry and Bernadette to put off the wedding until after the full twelve-month mourning period. Bernadette was helping Jerry to cook and clean and look after the house, and not being able to run up the stairs was driving them both mad with desire. But Bernadette was a good Catholic girl and she was taking no chances with sex before marriage. No shotgun wedding for her. Suddenly, being alone in each other’s company in the close proximity of a bedroom was becoming an almost unbearable temptation. Bernadette would never stay overnight and the pressure built to an almost unbearable pitch.
    ‘Just stay tonight,’ Jerry begged, one Sunday night as Bernadette was leaving. ‘Please,’ he murmured into her ear in the midst of a very passionate kiss. ‘I promise I will be good and ye will still be a virgin in the morning.’
    ‘Not at all!’ replied Bernadette forcefully. ‘Are ye crazy? Can ye imagine what they will be saying here in the streets tomorrow when they see me leaving in the morning?’
    Her resolve did indeed drive Jerry crazy. He wanted to put his fist through the wall, but he also knew she was right. They were married within three months.
    During those three months Bernadette got to know everyone on the four streets as well as she did her neighbours back home. Bernadette and Maura came from the same village, Killhooney, and had known each other since Bernadette was a baby. You didn’t need to travel far in Liverpool before you met someone from back home. The two women became special friends, which extended to Tommy and Maura’s children, especially their eldest daughter, Kitty, who spent as much time with Jerry and Bernadette as she did in her own house.
    Although Maura was older, she and Bernadette had attended the same school, knew the same families and had a shared history. Their deep yearning for home had drawn them together from the first day Bernadette had arrived in the street. Maura was daily homesick. Both their families came from the sod houses,