The Cross Behind Bars [antikvár]

Prologue Belfast: December 231930 Tom Proctor propped up his wife Edith against the pillows in die narrow double bed. He waited a moment by the bedside in case she wanted anything, but she turned her head away. He sighed, squared his shoulders and walked stiffly out of the room. She hardly noticed he had gone. She half lay there, quite still, except for the clenching and unclenching of her hands under the sheet. There was a banging in the parlour below and she heard someone say, 'Shhh, don't disturb our Edith.' Then the parlour curtains were drawn and she craned forward a little. They'd all be drawn now at this end of the street. All except hers upstairs. There was a lump in her throat so big it hurt to swallow. She smoothed out the sheet over the bedspread in case anyone came up, but no one did. The banging had started again and a shuffling as if people were tip-toeing down the passage. She heard the front door open. Suddenly she got out of bed and went to the window. She rubbed the glass and peered out. She saw them carrying the coffin. The lump lurched into her throat and made her cheeks hurt. She stuffed her fist into her mouth. 'Stanley,' she cried, but the word wouldn't come. Oh no! There was Nanny Walker running across the street. She must have seen her at the window. Edith arranged herself back into the bed and swallowed the lump again. There were voices on the stairs and footsteps. Then Tom was in the doorway. 'Edie, love,' he said and stood there, his body sagging against the doorpost. He crept into the room, carrying the new baby in his arms and placed him on the sheet