Birmingham Rose

Birmingham Rose by Annie Murray Page A

Book: Birmingham Rose by Annie Murray Read Free Book Online
Authors: Annie Murray
Tags: Fiction, Saga
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She pointed to a big banner. ‘It’s a hundred this week!’
    ‘Market Hall Centenary Celebrations’, the sign read. ‘February 11–18’, and on each side in bigger print, ‘1835–1935’.
    But it was Diana’s turn to see her friend turn pale and serious. At the foot of the steps, leaning against the brick banister, was a man. His face was dark with several days of stubble, and round his neck, hanging from a length of cord, hung a cut-out tray made of cardboard. On it lay a few boxes of Swan Vesta matches. Rose stared at his face, tears stinging her eyes at the despair she saw written in every sag of his rough cheeks. His clothes hung limply, one sleeve of his greatcoat pinned away at the back. Many a night that coat had provided an extra cover on Rose and Grace’s bed. The rough, familiar crutch stood against the wall beside him.
    Rose stood watching her father, the tears running slowly down her cheeks. Bruises from the beating round the head that he had given her were only just fading. But now, seeing him here away from home, she pitied him for what he so obviously was – a wreck of a man. Her pity was partly for the squalor, the monotony of his life, but mostly it was for the way he had been broken by things too terrible to tell of, that only spoke themselves night after night in his dreams.
    ‘Rose, what’s the matter?’
    ‘Nothing.’ Rose turned away quickly, realizing he might see them.
    ‘Come on. You were grinning like a Cheshire cat just a minute ago. What’s up?’
    ‘I’m not going to turn round again in case he sees,’ Rose said sniffing. ‘But look, by the steps. It’s my dad.’
    Diana turned her head and saw Sid’s desolate figure. Then she took Rose’s hand, and her friend felt a coin being pressed into it.
    ‘Let’s go and get the poor old sod a cup of tea.’ The two girls smiled at each other, Rose more in surprise at Diana’s unaccustomed language than because she thought it was a particularly good idea.
    She approached him with the tea, feeling nervous and awkward, and handed it to him saying, ‘Here y’are, Dad. You must be cold.’
    Sid roused himself, looked at her without any apparent surprise and said, ‘Aar. Thanks Gracie.’
    ‘I’m ROSE,’ she yelled at him. ‘You silly old sod.’ And she pulled Diana away, the moment of pity swept away by her anger.
    Diana followed her as she stamped her way across the Bull Ring in her worn-out boots. ‘Hey, Rose,’ she said, running behind to catch up. ‘You didn’t have to go and tell him what I said about him to his face!’
    Rose turned, for a moment still annoyed, and then burst out laughing. The two of them linked arms and moments later Rose was crying with laughter instead of vexation.
    ‘Well, that’s the last time I try and do anything for him,’ she said defiantly. ‘Now, how about that cup of tea we was going to have ourselves?’

Six
    Dora’s labour pains began in the middle of a cold night in March.
    She called up the stairs, ‘Sam, Sam! Go and fetch Old Joan – the babby’s coming!’ Sam shot out of bed and down to the outside door.
    Rose scurried around. Her heart seemed more awake than her head and it was beating noisily. As she threw slack on the fire, which had almost gone out, Grace and the other children trooped in and Grace started to get them all organized.
    ‘You come and sit here George, and Vi can sit on my lap. You can see all my pictures. Now, this one’s Queen Mary in the royal box at Ascot . . .’
    ‘Oh, not again,’ George groaned.
    Sid was still asleep and Dora said she couldn’t see much use in waking him. She and Rose prepared Rose and Grace’s bed in the attic together. They stripped off the bedclothes so the sheets wouldn’t spoil, tucked the crackly newspaper round the mattress and spread sheets of it out on the floor.
    ‘This one’s a boy,’ Dora said as she finally pulled herself up on to the bed. She looked exhausted already.
    ‘How d’you know?’
    ‘I just

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