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"Oh, for God's sake stop being like that. Have you no bloody spunk at all? Not his fault! He went with you, didn't he? He could have seen that you didn't get into this predicament. Not his fault! They're all the bloody same, but if they want to deal at the same market they should see you dont get landed with a bloody bellyful."

I sat looking at her as she tramped about the room cursing and swearing. She wasn't to know that he hadn't really wanted to come to me, not at the beginning, and when he had come what had happened was entirely my fault, at least the first night. The second night, I knew he was mine forever, and the only comfort that remained of this whole business was the truth of that knowledge. I wasn't unaware that my condition could have been prevented, but how does one go about a thing like that? Did one take a big stick and beat at the gossamer strands of enchantment, demanding, "What do I have to pay for this?" Mollie would know, and Mollie could take the big stick I felt sure, but I was not Mollie.

"What am I going to do?"

"Stop buggering about and get rid of it. Have you any money, anything saved up?"

I had nothing saved up but I had the roll of notes in the bottom drawer. There was twenty-five pounds and the gold watch which bore the inscription inside the back, "To Martin, June ist, 1942, Eileen." A stiff, proper inscription. Not "To my beloved Martin', or " From your loving Eileen', just "To Martin ... Eileen'. It was like the picture on the front page of the paper. Yet she had loved him. But he had never loved her.

Although he had never mentioned her name to me, I knew this. Daily, over the past few weeks, this conviction had become stronger.

"I've got twenty-five pounds."

"You'll need more than that. They're asking big figures now, thirty and more."

"But what do they do ?"

"It isn't they, it's a her. She'll take it away."

I had imagined Mollie would know of some medicine, some stuff that I could take, I hadn't thought of having it taken away. My whole being curled up in revolt and I said, "I dont want that done, Mollie. Isn't there anything I could take?"

"Nothing that is sure. Some of the stuff will skite the innards out of you and you'll still have the baim. No, she's your best bet. Your only bet, for you can't be saddled with another. Tommy told me you knew him the chap afore the war. Does Constance belong to him?"

I looked at her. "Yes."

"Well, my God' she let out a |ong breath " I've heard everything now.

You must be clean barmy, Christine. A girl like you who could pick and choose among the best to let yersel' be bitten by the same bug twice.

Are you completely green? Anybody would think you were soft. "

Yes, anybody would think that I was soft. And I was soft soft, weak, squashy and sentimental. Nobody who wasn't soft would wait four years for a myth, and nobody, unless they were made that way, would stop a man from talking, talking money, and make him make love instead. Yes, Mollie was right.

"I'll go along this afternoon after I've had a bit of sleep and see Ma Pringle, and then I'll come up and tell you when she can do it."

"And you may as well take a new-born child and bash its brains out against the wall as have an abortion. You sin even by contemplating it, and you damn your immortal soul by doing it."

The words of a sermon I had heard Father Ellis deliver a short while ago were in my ears, his voice was loud and clear as if he was standing in the room, and I felt a moment's terror, the quaking terror that only a Catholic feels when his immortal soul is said to be in peril. And this terror must have expressed itself on my face, for Mollie exclaimed, "Now what's the matter with you?" and I heard myself muttering, "I daren't go to that woman."

"But you're willing to take stuff, it's just the same."

Yes, it was just the same, but somehow different. If I took the stuff and it worked the child would come away in a sort of miscarriage, but to have it taken away was different. I couldn't explain to myself or Mollie, but I knew it was different, and because of the difference I knew I couldn't have this abortion. I heaved and ran towards the kitchen, and as I leaned over the sink Mollie held my head and soothed me, and not until I was in the room again did she say, "You're thinkin'

of the priest, aren't you? That's what comes of going to mass every Sunday. Me, I gave it up years ago. They weren't goin' to frighten the liver out of me. I'm laying me stakes on what's down here.

Nobody's come back to show us the prizes they get for being so bloody good, so dont be such a blasted fool. But you were always a bit of a priest's pet, weren't you?"

A priest's pet! There rose in me for an instant a feeling of hate against all priests, particularly Father Ellis. If he hadn't come on us that night. If I hadn't laughed. If I hadn't led him to us with my laugh. If . if . A priest's pet!

Then Mollie spoke, quietly and comfortingly as she said, Think it over.

Chew on it for a day or two. There'll be no time lost, and then we'll see what's to be done. But remember this, it's all the same to me whatever you decide on, you'll always be welcome here. "

One thing I've found in life, if there's not a cure for an ill, there's a solace provided, and Mollie was that solace for me, at least for a time.

I was four months gone and it could not be hidden any longer. The suspicions of those around me burst into the open and I was besieged from all sides. The scandal lit not only the street but the community of the church. They did not take into account that Cissie Campbell and a good many more were having the time of their lives, or so it was called, while their men were away, and that in certain cases children were being born when husbands had not been home for years. But they were married, they were sheltered by wedding rings, and if they were foolish enough to slip up once, and show evidence of their good times, they certainly did not repeat the mistake. Christine Winter had repeated it she was a bad lot.

These reactions, strangely enough, hardened me. They dragged out from my depths some spark that enabled me to answer their stares with a straight look when I met them and put an air of defiance into my stride in passing. To these mothers and daughters who looked at me with a

"Dear! dear? clicking of the tongue look, I wanted to shout, " I have been with a man three times, and out of that I've had two baims.

You wouldn't believe it, would you? No, of course you wouldn't. "

Dad, I knew, was stunned and he kept saying, "Why, lass? ... How? ...

I never knew there was anybody." These words had a familiar ring.

Sam, dear understanding Sam, even he looked at me as if I had changed into a different being and said, "Good God, Christine, what's up with you, anyway?"

My Aunt Phyllis, I knew, said a lot but not to me. I heard her say to Dad, "Well, it didn't come as any surprise." Oh, you liar. Aunt Phyllis. But how happy you are, I thought.

And then came Father Ellis, rigid of countenance and frozen inside against me. He stood in the kitchen by the side of my father and stared at me and, after swallowing and breathing deeply, he brought out, "May God forgive you." And my mind cried back at him, "And you, too." And then he said something that freed me from all fear for a moment.

"And to think," he said, 'this has happened when only a few days ago Don was down having a talk with me about you. He put the whole situation clearly to me. He didn't pretend to be a saint, but he's got this in his favour, he made a good confession, and then he told me what's been in his heart for years, to make you his wife. And now--'

"What!" I screamed the word at him, startling him and Dad. I screamed again, "What!" Then drawing myself up, I faced him squarely and said,

"Father, I wouldn't marry Don Dowling if I had twenty illegitimate kids." The words sounded raw coming from my mouth, and I would have termed the person I heard speaking them cheap and common. But this a short while ago were in my ears, his voice was loud and clear as if he was standing in the room, and I felt a moment's terror, the quaking terror that only a Catholic feels when his immortal soul is said to be in peril. And this terror must have expressed itself on my face, for Mollie exclaimed, "Now what's the matter with you?" and I heard myself muttering, "I daren't go to that woman."

"But you're willing to take stuff, it's just the same."

Yes, it was just the same, but somehow different. If I took the stuff and it worked the child would come away in a sort of miscarriage, but to have it taken away was different. I couldn't explain to myself or Mollie, but I knew it was different, and because of the difference I knew I couldn't have this abortion. I heaved and ran towards the kitchen, and as I leaned over the sink Mollie held my head and soothed me, and not until I was in the room again did she say, "You're thinkin'

of the priest, aren't you? That's what comes of going to mass every Sunday. Me, I gave it up years ago. They weren't goin' to frighten the liver out of me. I'm laying me stakes on what's down here.

Nobody's come back to show us the prizes they get for being so bloody good, so dont be such a blasted fool. But you were always a bit of a priest's pet, weren't you?"

A priest's pet! There rose in me for an instant a feeling of hate against all priests, particularly Father Ellis. If he hadn't come on us that night. If I hadn't laughed. If I hadn't led him to us with my laugh. If . if . A priest's pet!

Then Mollie spoke, quietly and comfortingly as she said, "Think it over. Chew on it for a day or two. There'll be no time lost, and then we'll see what's to be done. But remember this, it's all the same to me whatever you decide on, you'll always be welcome here."

One thing I've found in life, if there's not a cure for an ill, there's a solace provided, and Mollie was that solace for me, at least for a time.

I was four months gone and it could not be hidden any longer. The suspicions of those around me burst into the open and I was besieged from all sides. The scandal lit not only the street but the community of the church. They did not take into account that Cissie Campbell and a good many more were having the time of their lives, or so it was called, while their men were away, and that in certain cases children were being born when husbands had not been home for years. But they were married, they were sheltered by wedding rings, and if they were foolish enough to slip up once, and show evidence of their good times, they certainly did not repeat the mistake. Christine Winter had repeated it she was a bad lot.

These reactions, strangely enough, hardened me. They dragged out from my depths some spark that enabled me to answer their stares with a straight look when I met them and put an air of defiance into my stride in passing. To these mothers and daughters who looked at me with a

"Dear! dear!" clicking of the tongue look, I wanted to shout, "I have been with a man three times, and out of that I've had two baims. You wouldn't believe it, would you? No, of course you wouldn't."

Dad, I knew, was stunned and he kept saying, "Why, lass? ... How? ...

I never knew there was anybody." These words had a familiar ring.

Sam, dear understanding Sam, even he looked at me as if I had changed into a different being and said, "Good God, Christine, what's up with you, anyway?"

My Aunt Phyllis, I knew, said a lot but not to me. I heard her say to Dad, "Well, it didn't come as any surprise." Oh, you liar. Aunt Phyllis. But how happy you are, I thought.

And then came Father Ellis, rigid of countenance and frozen inside against me. He stood in the kitchen by the side of my father and stared at me and, after swallowing and breathing deeply, he brought out, "May God forgive you." And my mind cried back at him, "And you, too." And then he said something that freed me from all fear for a moment.

"And to think," he said, 'this has happened when only a few days ago Don was down having a talk with me about you. He put the whole situation clearly to me. He didn't pretend to be a saint, but he's got this in his favour, he made a good confession, and then he told me what's been in his heart for years, to make you his wife. And now--'

"What!" I screamed the word at him, startling him and Dad. I screamed again, "What!" Then drawing myself up, I faced him squarely and said,

"Father, I wouldn't marry Don Dowling if I had twenty illegitimate kids." The words sounded raw coming from my mouth, and I would have termed the person I heard speaking them cheap and common. But this defiance was from the spark that was growing within me, it was not so much a spark of strength as of retaliation.

"You might do worse. You wouldn't have been--' Shut up!"

That I had startled my dad as he had never been startled before I could see, and, as my mother had punished Ronnie years ago for daring to answer a priest, so now my father stepped towards me, his face dark with anger, and he cried at me, "Don't you dare speak to the Father in that manner, for as much as I care for you I'll raise my hand to you."

But now the spark was afire and I turned on him and cried, "Well, come on, do it.... Don Dowling! You'd know what Don Dowling is if you'd only open your eyes wide enough. Everybody in the town knows of his carry on, but there are lots of things that everybody in the town doesn't know. My mother knew. Oh, yes, she knew, and she tried to protect me from him. And Sam knows, and I know. Don Dowling!" I turned and confronted Father Ellis again and cried, "I could have got rid of the child but I wouldn't, I remembered what you said from the pulpit.

But I swear to you. Father, that if you side with Don Dowling and try to make me marry him, I swear to you that I'll have it taken away. "

My voice had dropped to a low note as I finished, and after a long pause, during which the priest looked at me as if he hated me, he said,

"There will be no need. Don could not be induced under any circumstances, I'm sure, to make his offer now."

"Then we can thank God for that, can't we. Father?" I turned without haste and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, and when I got into my bedroom I stood gripping the knob of the bed and repeating,