The Girl from Hard Times Hill Read Online Free Page B

have thought Nana would have got fed up of them going gallivanting, Dad in his suit and Mum in her prettiest, least patched frock, and leaving the Littlies behind, but she didn’t say so. Maybe she thought they deserved a treat.
    One day I was walking back from the Hill alone. Pam had run on ahead, because she hadn’t done her jobs at home, and I was so busy thinking about the last race that I didn’t pay attention and walked straight into somebody coming out of the fish and chip shop on the corner.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ I said, and then I heard laughter and looked up.
    â€˜Don’t you recognize your own father?’
    I could feel myself blush. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you.’
    â€˜No, you were away with the fairies. You alright, Megan? You look done in.’
    â€˜I
am
tired,’ I said. ‘But you see, Tom and me drew in the first round, and so we had to go again, and then Brian fell over after a cat ran out, so we had to do
that
round again and then – ’
    â€˜Hold on!’ Dad interrupted. ‘First round of what?’
    â€˜Roller-skating. We have races over at the Hill.’ Dad scratched his head. ‘Magic roller skates, are they?’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜I mean, I can’t see them. They must be invisible.’
    â€˜Well,’ I retorted, ‘I can’t see any fish and chips, and you just came out of the chippy!’
    Dad started to laugh and I found that I was laughing too. Then I explained that I always had to borrow Pam’s roller skates and Dad explained that they were just putting a new batch of chips into the fryer, so that he’d had to wait.
    â€˜Does Nana know?’ I asked doubtfully. ‘We only ever have fish and chips on Fridays.’
    â€˜She was persuaded,’ Dad told me. ‘Anyway, today’s a celebration.’
    â€˜A celebration of what?’
    â€˜You’ll just have to wait and see,’ said Dad with a wink. And he wouldn’t tell me any more. ‘Meanwhile, you can help me carry the grub. Come on. We can take a stroll while we’re waiting.’
    We set off down the hill.

Chapter Six

Talking to Dad
    So why don’t you have your own roller skates?’ Dad asked as we headed towards the path to the railway bridge.
    â€˜I did, but they broke.’
    â€˜Have you still got them?’
    â€˜Yes, but it’s no good. Grandpa’s already tried to mend them.’
    â€˜I could take a look.’
    â€˜Well – ’
    â€˜After all, I
am
a mechanic. I’ve spent over ten years of my life mending aeroplanes.’
    I looked at him hopefully.
    â€˜Do you think you could? It’s awkward taking turns, and Pam’s skates pinch my toes.’
    Dad nodded. ‘Hooray!’ I yelled. Then I felt Dad was laughing at me again, so I said quickly, ‘Did you go roller-skating when you were young?’
    â€˜Never knew there were such things. Don’t remember anyone having them.’
    We had reached the grassy embankment near the railway. It was quiet – most people were off home to their tea.
    â€˜So what did you do with
your
friends?’ I asked.
    â€˜Well, we did have a go-cart once, that we made ourselves. But other than that…we didn’t have much money to spare for toys, Megan. In fact, me and my friend John used to go round selling things.’
    â€˜Like what?’
    â€˜Buns, mainly. We’d get them from the bakers – specially any that were a bit squashed, or that he thought were going stale. Then we’d sell them in the streets, outside pubs or workplaces. We’d charge a little more than we paid, so that we could make some money on it.’
    â€˜That sounds fun.’
    â€˜Sometimes we’d take a bucket and collect horses’ droppings off the streets. There were lots of horses then, pulling carts.’
    â€˜Ugh!’ I turned my nose up, although Grandpa sometimes picked up horse