The Glory and the Shame/Conner Street's War [antikvár]

Prologue May 1941 More than a week had passed since the worst night of the Bhtz, and on the Monday morning of the nineteenth they laid George Merry to rest. He had died a hero and his wife Lucy held her head up high as Father Dooley gave the eulogy. The spring morning carried a chill and the mist was slow to clear, but by the time the mourners arrived back in Totterdown Street the sun was shining. Lucy Merry had no children of her own to share her grief, though her little terraced house was full of cousins, nieces and nephews, as well as the neighbours, who on the whole had had few kind things to say about George Merry during his lifetime but were singing his praises now that he was gone. The Carey family spared Lucy Merry the hypocrisy and gathered instead in their own home, along with the Duggans who lived next door. The two families sat quietly talking over very welcome cups of tea, brewed ready for their return by Aunt Ellie, who now sat stony-faced in her high-backed chair by the hearth. "E must 'ave bin goin' on seventy,' Martha Carey remarked. T remember Lucy Merry say in' ter me 'ow