Midge started to jump up and down with
excitement.
“Let’s see how
good your tricks are first, shall we?”
She wasn’t so
tired she couldn’t mutter at him under her breath in Hindi.
“Mangy curs
like you should be more grateful.”
Zachariah
didn’t seem to care either way.
Later that
night with a stomach full of warm milk, lying between Midge and
Ruby, Isabella could see the fire’s flicker on the iron roof above
her. Rolling onto her side she watched as Zachariah left his
bedroll next to Lily’s, and put four more logs on the fire before
returning to his bed where he lay on his back, hands beneath his
head. Then she closed her eyes, but not before she saw Zachariah’s
gaze sweep over her. She pulled her father’s satchel closer to her
chest and could fight sleep no more.
Such was the
cold the following morning that Isabella wondered if she could make
her fingers move quickly enough for the trick to be a success.
She’d been ready to leave as soon as she was awake.
“Here,” said
Midge, thrusting a cup of tea into her hand. “Put these on too.”
They were fingerless wool gloves and a thick grey wool sweater and
hat.
“Zachariah
wants us to go to work.”
“What if I
don’t want to go to work,” she sniffed. Who did this boy think he
was?
“He says if
you want to stay another night, you’ve got to take your trick down
the market, see if you can make any money. So come on, we best get
there quick, else all the best pitches will be gone.”
“Why should I
give him anything of mine?”
Midge looked
at her as if she was speaking another language.
“To pay for
your keep of course.”
“What ‘keep?’
I’m not staying.”
Midge’s little
freckled face clouded over. Isabella shrugged crossly. She knew she
shouldn’t have stayed. She had no wish to upset Midge, of whom she
was becoming fonder by the minute.
“Why, where
are you gonna go?”
Where was she
going to go? The thought had barely left her mind for a second
since leaving the Molesey’s and yet she was still no closer to an
answer. Starvation had addled her brain.
“I don’t know.
“ Her voice became quiet and sad. “I want to go home to India, but
I need money for that.” She wasn’t yet ready to tell of the booty
in her bag. That was for emergencies.
Midge took her
hand.
“‘Ere, don’t
look so sad. We can make a plan, but… do you know what it’s like
out there, if you ain’t got a gang behind you?”
Isabella
thought of the starving children she’d seen from the Molesey’s
carriage; felt the aching cold once more, the desolation of the
call of the night-watch to anyone with no home to go to, the empty
vault of the starless sky.
“A little.”
She paused giving a hollow laugh. “In India the priests would
distribute food to the street children, all the better to pave
their way to heaven, I suppose. I haven’t seen much evidence of
that happening here.”
Now it was
Midge’s turn to laugh.
“The church?
Help us? They’d lock us up soon as look at us, and that’s a fate
worse than being alone on the streets.” His face darkened. “I was
in the church poorhouse with me mum. She weren’t like the others in
there. She didn’t drink. She said her prayers. We was only meant to
be in there for a while, waiting for me dad to get back from the
war, but mum took sick. They’re death-traps those places, people
living on top of each other. After she died, me and Ruby ran
away.”
Isabella
nodded.
“I’m so sorry,
Midge.”
He dashed his
sleeve to his eyes.
“S’alright. We
were lucky. We met Zachariah after a couple of months on the
streets, but I wouldn’t like to go through that time again. Ruby
still don’t talk about it.” Isabella looked over to where Ruby was
bouncing one of the smallest children on her knee whilst spooning
porridge into the mouth of another.
“She loves the
little ones. Zachariah made it so she can stay at home with them
and look after them. The rest of us have got to
excitement.
“Let’s see how
good your tricks are first, shall we?”
She wasn’t so
tired she couldn’t mutter at him under her breath in Hindi.
“Mangy curs
like you should be more grateful.”
Zachariah
didn’t seem to care either way.
Later that
night with a stomach full of warm milk, lying between Midge and
Ruby, Isabella could see the fire’s flicker on the iron roof above
her. Rolling onto her side she watched as Zachariah left his
bedroll next to Lily’s, and put four more logs on the fire before
returning to his bed where he lay on his back, hands beneath his
head. Then she closed her eyes, but not before she saw Zachariah’s
gaze sweep over her. She pulled her father’s satchel closer to her
chest and could fight sleep no more.
Such was the
cold the following morning that Isabella wondered if she could make
her fingers move quickly enough for the trick to be a success.
She’d been ready to leave as soon as she was awake.
“Here,” said
Midge, thrusting a cup of tea into her hand. “Put these on too.”
They were fingerless wool gloves and a thick grey wool sweater and
hat.
“Zachariah
wants us to go to work.”
“What if I
don’t want to go to work,” she sniffed. Who did this boy think he
was?
“He says if
you want to stay another night, you’ve got to take your trick down
the market, see if you can make any money. So come on, we best get
there quick, else all the best pitches will be gone.”
“Why should I
give him anything of mine?”
Midge looked
at her as if she was speaking another language.
“To pay for
your keep of course.”
“What ‘keep?’
I’m not staying.”
Midge’s little
freckled face clouded over. Isabella shrugged crossly. She knew she
shouldn’t have stayed. She had no wish to upset Midge, of whom she
was becoming fonder by the minute.
“Why, where
are you gonna go?”
Where was she
going to go? The thought had barely left her mind for a second
since leaving the Molesey’s and yet she was still no closer to an
answer. Starvation had addled her brain.
“I don’t know.
“ Her voice became quiet and sad. “I want to go home to India, but
I need money for that.” She wasn’t yet ready to tell of the booty
in her bag. That was for emergencies.
Midge took her
hand.
“‘Ere, don’t
look so sad. We can make a plan, but… do you know what it’s like
out there, if you ain’t got a gang behind you?”
Isabella
thought of the starving children she’d seen from the Molesey’s
carriage; felt the aching cold once more, the desolation of the
call of the night-watch to anyone with no home to go to, the empty
vault of the starless sky.
“A little.”
She paused giving a hollow laugh. “In India the priests would
distribute food to the street children, all the better to pave
their way to heaven, I suppose. I haven’t seen much evidence of
that happening here.”
Now it was
Midge’s turn to laugh.
“The church?
Help us? They’d lock us up soon as look at us, and that’s a fate
worse than being alone on the streets.” His face darkened. “I was
in the church poorhouse with me mum. She weren’t like the others in
there. She didn’t drink. She said her prayers. We was only meant to
be in there for a while, waiting for me dad to get back from the
war, but mum took sick. They’re death-traps those places, people
living on top of each other. After she died, me and Ruby ran
away.”
Isabella
nodded.
“I’m so sorry,
Midge.”
He dashed his
sleeve to his eyes.
“S’alright. We
were lucky. We met Zachariah after a couple of months on the
streets, but I wouldn’t like to go through that time again. Ruby
still don’t talk about it.” Isabella looked over to where Ruby was
bouncing one of the smallest children on her knee whilst spooning
porridge into the mouth of another.
“She loves the
little ones. Zachariah made it so she can stay at home with them
and look after them. The rest of us have got to
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