EstherThe weeks passed. Brendan rose from his bed each morning, washed in cold water, and left for work. Esther heard him as she lay in bed behind the curtain, and also heard the small sigh Isobel gave each time her man left the house. It was not just because she was relieved to be free of him for the day, Esther came to quickly realise. Indeed, Brendan was still a presence even when he was not there, for Isobel talked about Brendan from time to time throughout the day; fragile bricks of words, marking out her hope that, maybe, he had found employment at which he could stick. No, Esther thought, lying on her lumpy bed—Isobel sighed out relief that he was gone and hope for what he might do. The look of bewildered pride on Isobel’s face when Brendan passed over his first pay one evening made
