Always I'Ll Remember Read Online Free
Author: Rita Bradshaw
her. For the first time in her life it made her angry rather than afraid. She hated her mam. It might be wicked and against everything Father Finlay preached, but she did.
She took a deep breath. ‘Fanny Kirby at the factory, her lodger’s just done a moonlight flit and he only paid three bob a week for his room,’ she said loudly, as though her mother was in the scullery rather than right in front of her. ‘And she likes me, Fanny does.’
She saw her mother’s eyes widen for a split second. ‘You threatening me, girl?’
‘No.’ Normally by now she would be backing away from the intent in her mother’s face but tonight there was fire in her belly. Her dream, her lovely dream of getting out of the factory and working somewhere where the air was clean and sweet, of doing something she liked, was not going to die. She wouldn’t let it. And her mam needed her at home. Only the two of them knew just how much she needed her - all the ironing, cleaning the range from top to bottom every week, scouring out the privy every other day and doing the kitchen from top to bottom every second Saturday, besides the everyday cleaning and washing and seeing to Clara. All that on top of giving her mam most of her wage each week. Her mam would be a fool to let her go and, whatever else she was, she wasn’t that. ‘I’m not threatening you, I’m saying I’m going on the course whatever happens.’
Abby saw the indecision in her mother’s face and knew her hand was fairly twitching, but Nora didn’t lash out and send her flying. They stared at each other for what seemed like a long time to Abby’s overstretched nerves, and then Nora said, her words slow and flat, ‘You’re an upstart, girl. You know that, don’t you? From the minute you were born you’ve been trouble. But just remember this, there’s none that get so high that they can’t be brought down, and that’s what’ll happen to you one day.’ And she turned on her heel and left the room.
Abby was still biting hard on her bottom lip to prevent it trembling; it didn’t register for a moment that she had won.
‘That might have been hard, lass,’ her father said, ‘but if I’d stood up to her years ago instead of taking the easy road, things’d be different now.’
Only then did Abby relax. But she felt no flood of joy that she had got her own way. The look on her father’s face and the way he had just spoken had taken care of that. He didn’t like her mam any more than she did and she wondered why the seriousness of that had never fully dawned on her before.
Chapter Two
W hen Abby walked into her aunt’s backyard the next morning she could smell bacon frying. She opened the scullery door and called, ‘Anyone at home?’
Her aunt’s voice came back at her from the kitchen. ‘Abby? Is that you?’
‘Hello, Aunty.’ As always Abby felt a sense of coming home as she took in the cluttered kitchen and the plump figure of her aunt standing at the range. This kitchen and more especially the woman in it spelled comfort and warmth and belonging, and what was a layer of dust or battered, tatty furniture anyway? Her aunty’s house wasn’t dirty like her mam said, it was just that everything was old and worn but that didn’t matter a jot.
‘This is a turn-up for the book, your mam letting you come round here at this time in the morning,’ Audrey Hammond commented wryly.
Abby grinned at her aunt. ‘She doesn’t know. She’s gone to first Mass and she’s made Wilbert and Clara go with her.’
Audrey’s eyebrows lifted. ‘And not you?’
‘She’s not speaking to me.’ Abby’s nose wrinkled. ‘We’ve had a row, a big one.’
‘You’ll have another if she finds you in here.’
‘I don’t care.’ Abby settled herself down at the big wooden table, the top of which was marked with a hundred indentations and scratches. ‘I wanted to talk to you before I go to
She took a deep breath. ‘Fanny Kirby at the factory, her lodger’s just done a moonlight flit and he only paid three bob a week for his room,’ she said loudly, as though her mother was in the scullery rather than right in front of her. ‘And she likes me, Fanny does.’
She saw her mother’s eyes widen for a split second. ‘You threatening me, girl?’
‘No.’ Normally by now she would be backing away from the intent in her mother’s face but tonight there was fire in her belly. Her dream, her lovely dream of getting out of the factory and working somewhere where the air was clean and sweet, of doing something she liked, was not going to die. She wouldn’t let it. And her mam needed her at home. Only the two of them knew just how much she needed her - all the ironing, cleaning the range from top to bottom every week, scouring out the privy every other day and doing the kitchen from top to bottom every second Saturday, besides the everyday cleaning and washing and seeing to Clara. All that on top of giving her mam most of her wage each week. Her mam would be a fool to let her go and, whatever else she was, she wasn’t that. ‘I’m not threatening you, I’m saying I’m going on the course whatever happens.’
Abby saw the indecision in her mother’s face and knew her hand was fairly twitching, but Nora didn’t lash out and send her flying. They stared at each other for what seemed like a long time to Abby’s overstretched nerves, and then Nora said, her words slow and flat, ‘You’re an upstart, girl. You know that, don’t you? From the minute you were born you’ve been trouble. But just remember this, there’s none that get so high that they can’t be brought down, and that’s what’ll happen to you one day.’ And she turned on her heel and left the room.
Abby was still biting hard on her bottom lip to prevent it trembling; it didn’t register for a moment that she had won.
‘That might have been hard, lass,’ her father said, ‘but if I’d stood up to her years ago instead of taking the easy road, things’d be different now.’
Only then did Abby relax. But she felt no flood of joy that she had got her own way. The look on her father’s face and the way he had just spoken had taken care of that. He didn’t like her mam any more than she did and she wondered why the seriousness of that had never fully dawned on her before.
Chapter Two
W hen Abby walked into her aunt’s backyard the next morning she could smell bacon frying. She opened the scullery door and called, ‘Anyone at home?’
Her aunt’s voice came back at her from the kitchen. ‘Abby? Is that you?’
‘Hello, Aunty.’ As always Abby felt a sense of coming home as she took in the cluttered kitchen and the plump figure of her aunt standing at the range. This kitchen and more especially the woman in it spelled comfort and warmth and belonging, and what was a layer of dust or battered, tatty furniture anyway? Her aunty’s house wasn’t dirty like her mam said, it was just that everything was old and worn but that didn’t matter a jot.
‘This is a turn-up for the book, your mam letting you come round here at this time in the morning,’ Audrey Hammond commented wryly.
Abby grinned at her aunt. ‘She doesn’t know. She’s gone to first Mass and she’s made Wilbert and Clara go with her.’
Audrey’s eyebrows lifted. ‘And not you?’
‘She’s not speaking to me.’ Abby’s nose wrinkled. ‘We’ve had a row, a big one.’
‘You’ll have another if she finds you in here.’
‘I don’t care.’ Abby settled herself down at the big wooden table, the top of which was marked with a hundred indentations and scratches. ‘I wanted to talk to you before I go to
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