The Urchin's Song Read Online Free Page B

the round hole in the middle of the seat.
    Along with the privy there was a communal washhouse and tap in the yard, with several lines of string hung up at one end for drying bedding and clothing, should the weather permit.
    After placing the shopping bag on the smaller table Josie now picked up the big black kettle at the side of the range which, as normal, was empty. The lads were supposed to keep the kettle full, along with the bucket used for fetching water from the yard, but they were experts at remembering to forget this particular chore. Sighing, Josie went out into the cold again with the bucket and was relieved to find the tap hadn’t frozen up again, although the trickle of water was painfully slow.
    Once back in the warmth of the kitchen she stoked up the fire in the range and put the kettle on to boil. That done, she fetched the lamp from the other room, and once she had trimmed, filled and lit it, carried it in to her mother, bringing the candles back into the kitchen once she’d blown them out. The light from the living room along with the glow from the range was just adequate in the kitchen, and at fourpence a pound, candles couldn’t be wasted. Especially with the rent money gone again.
    After scooping the drips of tallow from the candlesticks Josie put them into the small iron pan containing other remnants, along with the small ends of used candles, to be melted down for further use when there was sufficient. The candles dealt with, she put the shopping away before making a pot of tea, and it was only whilst it was mashing that she finally slipped out of her coat and hat.
    She poured two cups of black tea and took them through to the living room, handing one to her mother who had been lying motionless with her eyes closed but who now pulled herself into a sitting position as Josie said softly, ‘Here, Mam. Have a sup tea.’
    ‘Thanks, lass.’ Shirley’s tired eyes looked at her precious bairn, and as always she found herself wondering, much as Mr McKenzie had earlier, how on earth she and Bart could have brought forth such a child. Twenty endless years she’d been married, and knocked from pillar to post for the first eighteen of them, until the dire outcome of the last pregnancy and the constant bleeding that had resulted since had caused her to become a semi-invalid. But it had all been worth it - aye, and she didn’t say it lightly - for the joy of having this one special bairn.
    Josie sat down by her mother, taking a sip of tea before she said, ‘Gertie should be back soon.’
    ‘Aye.’ Shirley’s voice was low when she continued, ‘I dunno how long it can go on, lass, without him findin’ out. He’s as cute as a cartload o’ monkeys, your da. Always has bin.’
    ‘Vera wouldn’t say anything.’
    ‘Oh aye, I know that, hinny. She’s a grand lass, Vera.’
    The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and when Josie rose jerkily and walked over to stand in front of the fire there was an aggressive quality to her words as she said, ‘There’s no way he’s sending her out to beg in this weather, Mam, whatever happens. She’s not strong like the lads, you know she’s not. It’d be the death of her. If he’s so desperate for the bit she brings in he can go out and get work himself.’
    Shirley didn’t reply to this and Josie didn’t expect her to. Her father had never done a real day’s work in his life and he’d see them all in the workhouse before he lifted a finger. Anything he came by as a result of his criminal activities never saw its way into the house. But he wasn’t going to kill Gertie with his laziness.
    ‘How much did you slip her to bring back this time?’ Shirley asked after a minute or two, with a sidelong glance at her daughter.
    ‘A few pennies, all in farthings and ha’pennies. He couldn’t expect more. And one thruppenny bit. I told her to tell him a tale about a toff coming out of the Villiers and giving her that. And Vera was going to leave