Convictions Read Online Free Page B

Hildy.
    “You’re just jealous, Hildy, wishing you were playing,” snickered someone from below.
    “Shut your yap, Mary,” said Hildy.
    “Who are you telling to shut up?” said a new voice.
    “I didn’t mean you, Mary Cavanaugh ,” said Hildy.
    “What about me, then? You referring to me?” someone else asked.
    “I don’t know your voice. Who are you, then?” asked Hildy.
    “Mary. Mary Pilling .”
    “No, I meant you Mary, whatever your last name is below me,” Hildy said in exasperation.
    The woman responded, “I’m Mary Roberts if you must know, and I don’t take kindly to you telling me to shut up, either.”
    “Nor do I,” said another voice. “Mary Breck here.”
    Several more up and down the passageway shouted “Mary” along with their last names.
    “How many bloomin’ Marys are on this tub?” asked Gladys.
    “Too many!” Hildy muttered under her breath so that only Jennie could hear.
    Jennie drew in a breath. “I’m a Mary too,” she said in a low voice.
    “Blimey! All you Marys better sort yourselfs out.” Hildy ended in a shout. “You’ll drive us barmy keeping you straight.”
    “I go by Jennie.”
    “I’m a Molly,” said someone from the far end.
    More began reeling off their nicknames – “Meg, May, Millie –”
    “Enough already!” said Hildy. “We can’t even see you to put faces to!”
    “Well, at least we know if we call for Mary, someone will answer,” Gladys chortled.
    “Fine lot of good that’ll do,” Hildy grunted.
    Abruptly the gunroom door banged open against the wall and a guard bellowed, “That’s enough out of all of you, Marys or no!”
    Scarface was silhouetted in the doorway. He whacked his stick against the nearest bunk. “A body can’t get any rest with you lot. Now shut your yaps, or it will be beatings for yous next.” From behind him came shouts of agreement and the clink of tin cups on tables. He slammed the door shut again, and the air snapped with sudden silence.
    Hildy ventured a whisper. “Guess we did get a little loud, if they heard us over their gamblin’ and rum drinkin’.”
    “That why you’re here again, Hildy? Gambling?” Gladys asked in a low, husky voice.
    “Mebbe,” murmured Hildy.
    “Helped yerself too liberally to the winnings, maybe?” offered Gladys in a snide undertone.
    “Give off airing me filthy knickers, or I’ll give over how you pull fast ones on nobs at the theatres,” Hildy hissed.
    “You’re just jealous of my expert sleight of hand,” cackled Gladys softly.
    “You’re no better than Lizzie at shopping ,” Fanny cracked, her voice rising above a whisper.
    “Shh,” someone scolded.
    Gladys whispered loud enough so those in their bunk could hear. “Maybe, but at least I didn’t get made for trouncing a copper, like Lizzie did.”
    “Why are you bringing me into this?” growled Lizzie from the next bunk. “Besides, he deserved it, didn’t he then. He wanted the stuff for hisself.”
    “Must have been worth a lot, then, if you risked this fate,” Hildy said.
    “Would have been, had I managed to keep it,” Lizzie grumbled. “How about you? Was the risk worth this again?”
    “Not in coins, but I will get to see my Dickie again,” said Hildy smugly. “There was no way he was ever coming back home. He got done for eighteen years.”
    Jennie listened, surprised at Hildy’s explanation for committing a crime in order to be reunited with her husband. An unexpected emptiness clutched at Jennie’s stomach as she wondered how her family was managing without her. One less mouth to feed to be sure, but also one less pair of hands to bear the work and figure out how best to make ends meet. She hoped her mum and sisters wouldn’t have to go to the dreaded workhouse.
    “What about you then, Flo?” asked Gladys.
    “I borrowed a horse,” Flo answered. “But I returned it,” she insisted, “only the owners didn’t quite see it that way.” She sighed. “Fanny, you must have a right