CEDAR

4
Tea Cooper
‘You’re hurting me,’ Ruan moaned, as she made an instant
decision, left the bags and dragged him across the road.
‘Hurry up.’ Holding her chin high, she marched the poor child
towards the sign proudly proclaiming the Harp of Erin. It might
be unseemly, a woman alone entering a place like this, but she
had no option. She shouldered open the door and stepped over
the threshold into the dim interior. Dust motes hung in the thin
shafts of light illuminating the sultry gazes and appreciative stares
of the gang of sweaty, half-dressed men lounging around the fire.
The woman behind the bar wiped her hands on a filthy apron
and looked her up and down. ‘What can I do you for you, love?’
Her wrinkled face creased into the semblance of something that
could have been a smile.
‘A room for the night, if you please. For myself and my son.’
Her son, Ruan, dangled from her hand, twirling around, his
eyes as round as buttons as he took in the packed room.
‘Ruan, stay right beside me, here.’ She stamped on the floor to
emphasise the spot.
‘Just for the one night will it be, love?’
‘Yes, that’s all.’ It wouldn’t even be one night except for the fact
they’d been travelling for longer than she could remember and
they needed food and sleep.
‘Come on Davy’s dray, did you? From St Albans?’
The stares and the woman’s questions set Roisin’s teeth on edge.
‘Ruan, stay still.’ She sucked in a deep breath of rum-drenched air
and willed herself to relax.
After hours of bumping along the rutted road, the boy had ants
in his pants. Roisin could understand his impatience, every one of
her bones seemed dislocated by the buffeting they’d received. The
dray had rattled and banged all the way from St Albans, falling
into every single one of the potholes lining the road. What she
wouldn’t give for a cup of tea.