The Invisible Wall Read Online Free

responsibility she felt toward her sick father and the shop that kept her from getting married.
    She had entered in time to see all the strange things I had seen, the writing of the note, the spilling out of the ginger beer. Just as he was thrusting the note inside the bottle she burst out, “What the bloody ’ell are you doing, Freddy?”
    He swung around sharply at the sound of her voice, and the red in his face deepened. “What’s the matter with you, Florrie?” he muttered.
    â€œOh, you bloody fool!” She had started to shout, but suddenly remembered her father, and glanced toward him. Seeing that he was asleep, she went on, but with a lowered voice that was filled, nevertheless, with passion.
    â€œI know what you’re up to, and maybe you think you’re smart, but I warn you you’re not messing around with any mill girl or with another Annie Green. The people across the street wouldn’t let you get off easy like Mrs. Green did.”
    â€œYou shut up, Florrie,” hissed Freddy, glancing at his father also, and glancing at me, too. “You just shut your big mouth and mind your own bloody business.”
    â€œMind my own business?” she said, her voice almost choking. “And whose business is it if you go to prison, which is what those people across the street are going to do to you if they catch you messing with one of their girls? Who’s going to have to run this place, and take care of Da? It’s me, that’s who. Me, who could be married by now and living in Birmingham with an ’ouse of me own if it wasn’t for this place.”
    Freddy didn’t answer her this time. He was afraid that I was hearing too much, and hurried to finish what he was doing. He put the cork back into the bottle of ginger beer and gave it to me. He took my thripennybit and handed me the penny change, and said, “Be sure you give that bottle now to the one sent you here, and be off with you.”
    I hurried out, and as I closed the door behind me I heard their voices again clashing sharply in anger. But I was no longer interested. I was in a hurry now to get back and spend my penny, which I clutched tightly in my hand. I ran back up the street. It had grown darker still and a few pale stars were visible in the sky. The lamplighter was going around with his tall tapered pole. He had lit the lamp on the upper corner of the street and was now marching down to light the one at the bottom of the street. The first lamp, right next to the Turnbull sweets shop, cast a thin glow of light around its base and hardly touched the buildings.
    The street was quieter, too. The children had disappeared. Fewer people were sitting outdoors. Yellow light showed at windows behind drawn shades. When I reached the Harris house it was empty there, too. My brothers and his friends had gone, and the chalk marks on the sidewalk were vague through the darkness. I was half afraid that I’d have to go inside again, but suddenly the window opened, and I heard Sarah whisper. “Right here, luv.”
    Eagerly, glad to see her, I turned toward the window with the bottle. She reached out and took it, asking in another whispered question. “Did you give the empty to Freddy?”
    â€œYis,” I said.
    â€œOh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much, ’arry. Here, let me give you a kiss.” She drew my face to hers with both hands and pressed her lips against mine, and held me tightly, smothering me in her lavender smell. She then let go of me and said, “You’d better hurry on home now, luv. I think your mother is looking for you.”
    Indeed she was. My whole family had been scouring the street for me, and Sarah knew that only too well, but hadn’t dared say anything to them for fear of getting involved. I hadn’t the slightest intention of going home yet, however. Not with that penny burning a hole in my hand. I ran back across to the Turnbull shop.