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"I'm afraid we're about to close."
"It's not that. I don't want to buy a hat."
"I didn't think you did." The saleswoman bundled several hats in to
a drawer.
"I'm actually looking for Sadie Jackson."
"You won't find her here, I fire She got the sack this morning,"
said the woman triumphantly.
Brede fled from the shop. How was she to see Sadie now? There
was only one place where she knew she could find her.
She knew the name of Sadie's street, and that her house was the
end one, with a mural of King Billy i on its gable wall. Kevin
had told her that. She had never been in the street herself before.
Three years ago, when they had first come to know the Jacksons,
it had been Kevin and Brian Rafferty who had made forays across into
Protestant territory. Sadie had come b to their street, but then
Sadie was brave and it took a great deal to daunt her. She had
admired the coolness with which Sadie had sat in their kitchen after
she had been caught writing Down with the pope, Long liev King Billy, King billy was here on their kitchen table.
Brede advanced in to the warren of Protestant streets with her
heart beating. It was unlikely that anyone would recognise her
she knew that, but still she felt a tug of fear at her heart.+ over She
went down one street, turned into another, looked at the name,
could not find the right one. She would have to ask.
She saw a small shop On the corner, stood a small shop with an open door. She went inside, picking her way between crates of lemonade and milk and bags of porridge.
There was only one customer, a woman with her hair in
