A Waltz for Matilda Read Online Free Page A

town.’
    Drinkwater. She stored the bit of information up. She should have known Tommy would know the nearest train station to anywhere.
    ‘How do people get to Gibber’s Creek from the train?’
    He lay back, suddenly exhausted. ‘I don’t know. Someone picks them up in a cart. Maybe there’s a mail coach. I don’t know everything. Matilda?’
    ‘Yes.’ She leaned closer.
    ‘Why didn’t your dad help you before? When your ma was ill?’
    ‘Because he’s off shearing,’ she said patiently. ‘I told you.’
    Tommy shook his head. ‘They don’t shear all year round. Why doesn’t he ever visit you?’
    ‘He’s … he’s busy on his farm. He’s building us a house to live in.’
    Tommy watched her from his bed. ‘He … you do have a father, don’t you?’
    ‘Of course! Everyone has to have a father.’
    ‘Not everyone,’ he said gently. ‘Sometimes … sometimes men don’t want a family.’
    She shook her head. ‘My dad’s not like that. He sent us money, up till last year. I
told
you, remember? I went to school and everything.’
    ‘Are you sure that wasn’t your Aunt Ann’s money?’
    Matilda shook her head. ‘I saw the postal orders. And Aunt Ann didn’t have any money, just what she and Mum got from sewing. Besides, Mum wouldn’t lie to me.’
    She took his hand again, the good one. ‘All sorts of things can happen when you’re out shearing. Floods, so that letters can’t get through, or he could be a long way from a post office.’
    He shook his head, too tired to argue further. ‘Promise me.’ His whisper was urgent. ‘Promise you won’t do anything till I’m outta here.’
    The gong chimed at the nurses’ desk to say visiting hours were over. Matilda leaned over and kissed his cheek, the one that wasn’t burned, and smiled as he blushed. ‘We’ll see,’ she said.

Chapter 5
    Dear Mrs Dawkins,
    I am sorry to leave like this. I hope you don’t mind. I am going to live with my father. I am sorry I did not pay you my wages yesterday. I need the money for the train.
    Thank you for all your kindness.
    Your obedient servant,

Matilda O’Halloran
    The railway platform was almost deserted, smelling of old soot. A woman in shabby black dozed with a child either side of her on one of the benches, brown-paper packages at their feet. Somewhere a train snuffed and snorted, but the big train on the country platform was silent, and even its lights weren’t lit. She hadn’t dared wait back at the boarding house, or Mrs Dawkins might have tried to stop her leaving.
    All she owned was wrapped in the old shawl: her spare dress, Mum’s dresses and Mum’s good shoes too. Everything else had been sold in the last six months, even their hats.
    She’d hoped there might have been a letter from her father, hidden under the mattress maybe, something Mum kept treasured, too secret to be shown. But as Mum had said, men just didn’t like to write.
    The scent of roasting rabbits wafted in from the stand on the corner of the station. Her stomach rumbled so loudly she hoped anyone who heard it would think it was a train.
    ‘You waiting to get on, lass?’ A man in a uniform peered out of the guard carriage.
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘You all on your ownsome?’
    ‘My father is meeting me.’
    ‘Och aye.’ He had an accent like Mr Macintosh, who’d rented the room below theirs. It was funny to think she’d probably never see Mr Macintosh again. Funny leaving the factory last night, knowing she’d never set foot in it again. She hoped someone else would bring Bruiser a bone sometimes. She’d have to ask Tommy. But at least she’d never see Mr Thrattle’s piggy whiskers again either.
    ‘Old biscuit,’ she said under her breath.
    ‘What was that, lass?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    He looked at her kindly. ‘Well, seein’ you’re on your own, you’d better step into the carriage. It’s warmer there. No one’ll bother you, I’ll see to that.’
    ‘Thank you.’ He must have seen the relief on her