now Da and the lads have gone. Money doesn’t grow on trees.’
‘Aye, aye, I’m sorry, lass, I didn’t mean . . .’ His voice trailed away and for a moment the boy Shane was back, the little lad who’d always made time for her even when Sam and Davey hadn’t. Shane had never sent her home with a ‘You go back an’ play with the lassies, there’s a good girl’, or refused to let her go freshwater shrimping when the lads would skinny dip and the girls would watch them, wide eyed. No, even then Shane had treated her different and, bairns being bairns, she had played on it until the uneasy feeling she’d had since she was around ten or eleven had grown into something approaching fear.
They were about a third of the way down Chapel Lane and normally at this time of night the street would be thick with children dangling on makeshift swings they had strung together from the jutting iron arms of the lamp-posts, or playing tip the cat and bays - a northern form of hopscotch - with thick glass counters called pitchy dobbers, but tonight the near-blizzard conditions had them all indoors.
‘You got anywhere in Hendon then?’
‘No.’ The lie was spontaneous and immediate and made Rosie realize just how much she didn’t want Shane to know her new address.
‘Aw, Rosie’ - he stopped, taking her arm and swinging her round to face him - ‘you know how I feel about you, lass. You do, don’t you? You’re nigh on fourteen, you’re not a bairn any more, an’ there’s that Davey Connor forever sniffin’ about.’
She was shivering inside and the dark street, mute and silent under its thickening white blanket, seemed terribly impartial to her plight, but she forced her voice to sound cool and matter-of-fact as she said, ‘I don’t know what you mean. Davey’s a friend of mine, he was Sam’s best friend--’
‘Aye, aye I know that an’ all, same as I know your Sam told you to steer clear of me. I’m not wrong, am I?’ He peered down at her, the thick snow covering his hair and the shoulders of his cloth jacket making him seem even more at one with the pale muffled world she found herself in. ‘Just ’cos Mary couldn’t keep her big mouth shut, an’ there were others she gave the eye to on the quiet asides me. There’s any number of lads who could’ve fathered her bairn whatever she says, the fat dirty trollop.’
He had given Mary Linney a bairn? As Rosie attempted to start walking again Shane’s hands came down on her shoulders, and it took all her willpower not to react. But she had to remain calm and show him she refused to be intimidated, she felt her safety depended on it. ‘Sam didn’t say anything about you and Mary, Shane, and I have to get home--’
‘Oh aye, an’ pigs can fly.’ His hands tightened as he bent slightly towards her. ‘Mary Linney, huh! There was no way I was goin’ to be saddled with a fat plain piece like her, an’ you know why, don’t you? There’s only ever bin one lass for me, Rosie. One lass I’m prepared to give me name to.’
Why wasn’t there anyone about? Why had Mrs McLinnie let him come out? Oh, she wanted her mam .
‘Say you like me, Rosie, just a little bit, eh?’ She could feel him trembling through his hands on her shoulders, and his voice was a hoarse whisper, his breath hot on her chilled face. ‘I’d be good to you, lass. I promise you I’d never look at another woman, not if I had you. You’d want for nothin’, I swear it.’
‘Let go of me, Shane McLinnie. I’m warning you--’
‘I can’t think of anythin’ but you, it fair burns me up at times. That with Mary, that was nothin’, just an easin’ of meself.’ He was muttering thickly as much to himself as Rosie. ‘It’s always bin you, lass, from when you was a wee bairn.’
He had drawn her against him in spite of her struggles, his big muscled body subduing her as easily as if she was still the wee bairn he had spoken of, and even
‘Aye, aye, I’m sorry, lass, I didn’t mean . . .’ His voice trailed away and for a moment the boy Shane was back, the little lad who’d always made time for her even when Sam and Davey hadn’t. Shane had never sent her home with a ‘You go back an’ play with the lassies, there’s a good girl’, or refused to let her go freshwater shrimping when the lads would skinny dip and the girls would watch them, wide eyed. No, even then Shane had treated her different and, bairns being bairns, she had played on it until the uneasy feeling she’d had since she was around ten or eleven had grown into something approaching fear.
They were about a third of the way down Chapel Lane and normally at this time of night the street would be thick with children dangling on makeshift swings they had strung together from the jutting iron arms of the lamp-posts, or playing tip the cat and bays - a northern form of hopscotch - with thick glass counters called pitchy dobbers, but tonight the near-blizzard conditions had them all indoors.
‘You got anywhere in Hendon then?’
‘No.’ The lie was spontaneous and immediate and made Rosie realize just how much she didn’t want Shane to know her new address.
‘Aw, Rosie’ - he stopped, taking her arm and swinging her round to face him - ‘you know how I feel about you, lass. You do, don’t you? You’re nigh on fourteen, you’re not a bairn any more, an’ there’s that Davey Connor forever sniffin’ about.’
She was shivering inside and the dark street, mute and silent under its thickening white blanket, seemed terribly impartial to her plight, but she forced her voice to sound cool and matter-of-fact as she said, ‘I don’t know what you mean. Davey’s a friend of mine, he was Sam’s best friend--’
‘Aye, aye I know that an’ all, same as I know your Sam told you to steer clear of me. I’m not wrong, am I?’ He peered down at her, the thick snow covering his hair and the shoulders of his cloth jacket making him seem even more at one with the pale muffled world she found herself in. ‘Just ’cos Mary couldn’t keep her big mouth shut, an’ there were others she gave the eye to on the quiet asides me. There’s any number of lads who could’ve fathered her bairn whatever she says, the fat dirty trollop.’
He had given Mary Linney a bairn? As Rosie attempted to start walking again Shane’s hands came down on her shoulders, and it took all her willpower not to react. But she had to remain calm and show him she refused to be intimidated, she felt her safety depended on it. ‘Sam didn’t say anything about you and Mary, Shane, and I have to get home--’
‘Oh aye, an’ pigs can fly.’ His hands tightened as he bent slightly towards her. ‘Mary Linney, huh! There was no way I was goin’ to be saddled with a fat plain piece like her, an’ you know why, don’t you? There’s only ever bin one lass for me, Rosie. One lass I’m prepared to give me name to.’
Why wasn’t there anyone about? Why had Mrs McLinnie let him come out? Oh, she wanted her mam .
‘Say you like me, Rosie, just a little bit, eh?’ She could feel him trembling through his hands on her shoulders, and his voice was a hoarse whisper, his breath hot on her chilled face. ‘I’d be good to you, lass. I promise you I’d never look at another woman, not if I had you. You’d want for nothin’, I swear it.’
‘Let go of me, Shane McLinnie. I’m warning you--’
‘I can’t think of anythin’ but you, it fair burns me up at times. That with Mary, that was nothin’, just an easin’ of meself.’ He was muttering thickly as much to himself as Rosie. ‘It’s always bin you, lass, from when you was a wee bairn.’
He had drawn her against him in spite of her struggles, his big muscled body subduing her as easily as if she was still the wee bairn he had spoken of, and even
Similar Books
