Sabrina Fludde Read Online Free Page B

nestled together. Some were bedrooms. One was a junk room. One was a bathroom. And one was the boy’s room, his name, BENTLEY, stencilled on the door.
    Behind this door, the girl found a clutter of shelves, desk, chests of drawers and a bed, all tucked between a dusty skylight and an old oak frame. Books lined the frame, which doubled as a shelf. A pile of old records, mostly out of their sleeves, lay in the corner, and photographs of musicians in nightclubs hung on the walls.
    The girl looked at the photographs while the boy, Bentley, threw his school bag on the bed. She wanted to thank him, but didn’t know where to start. He pulled off his jacket and put on a record. Immediately a voice called from downstairs.
    â€˜Bentley, is that you?’
    Bentley pulled a face. He didn’t say anything, but led the girl back down to a first-floor room with tall windows looking out on Dogpole Alley. At one end acollection of armchairs, a sofa and a TV set were arranged around a fireplace. At the other stood a cooker and a washing machine, workbenches and a sink, an old dresser and a huge kitchen table.
    Between the two ends, facing the door, sat a big bony woman with a straight face, high, flat cheeks and a square box of fringed hair. She looked just like Bentley and had to be his mother. Around her were spread a tailor’s dummy, a pile of paper patterns and a heap of cloth which went whizzing past her under the needle of her sewing machine.
    She raised her head as Bentley came in. Started on about detention and coming home late – then saw the girl behind him.
    â€˜Mum, this is …’ Bentley broke off. Looked at the girl.
    â€˜Abren,’
she said, blushing as she plucked the first name that came to her out of thin air. ‘My name’s Abren.’
    â€˜Abren,’ Bentley’s mother said, looking the girl up and down – and finishing at her sweater.
    The girl shuffled awkwardly, wondering if something was the matter.
    â€˜We met down in the alley,’ Bentley said. ‘The BC boys were chasing her – you must have heard them!’
    It seemed his mother had. ‘So
that
was what was going on!’ she said, looking at the girl in a whole new light. ‘You can stay for tea, if you want. You look like you could do with it. Bentley’ll show you to the bathroom and you can get yourself clean. Don’t take too long, though, because tea’s late already. By the way, I’m Mrs Bytheway!’
    It was obviously her idea of a joke, but Bentleygroaned and said he’d had enough of that at school, thank you very much! He showed Abren the bathroom, where she scrubbed her face and hands, brushed a few tangles out of her hair and stared long at her face. Mrs Bytheway broke in upon her thoughts by calling her down. She returned to find a man, in corduroy trousers held up with braces, laying the table. He was Mr Bytheway, he said. ‘But you can call me Fee. Everybody does. Come and sit down.’
    The girl sat where she was bidden, between Bentley and his mother. They talked about their day, including Bentley’s latest reason for detention. Their voices droned over the girl’s head, and she ate in silence. When she’d finished, she licked her plate. Everybody stared at her, but she didn’t notice.
    â€˜Here, have some more,’ said Fee.
    He pushed the bright enamel stewing pot across the table, and the girl helped herself to more stew and dumplings. She hadn’t realised that she was hungry until now. She licked the second plate clean and would have had a third if there had been one. Fee cut up some bread and she scoffed it down. He brought a chocolate pudding out of the fridge and she scoffed down more than her fair share, groaning with delight over its chocolate sauce.
    While she ate a second helping of this too, and licked her pudding plate, a conversation sprang up about the BC boys, and whether the police did enough to protect the town at