CHAPTER 14Paddy McIllvaney rumpled his long shaggy hair, rubbed his eyes still bleary from sleep between hauling on a tattered black kimono style dressing robe. “All right, I’m comin’!” he shouted to the persistent caller whose cautious but indefatigable knocking had aroused him. It was late when he finished work at the club, scarcely returning home much before one, hence the little shut eye he had had was now suddenly disturbed, leaving the Irishman in ill temper.
“Bejaysus, what the f**k are you doin’ here, Christy?” his initial reaction at seeing her with her long hair wild and dishevelled spilling on to her shoulders, her face dirty, eyes much too overlarge and shadow ringed.
“Paddy, you gotta help me,” she breathed quickly, pushing the door open on to his disbelieving face, stepping
