The Beggar Maid by Dilly Court

and pulling his cap down over his eyes. ‘That’s me dad. He’s a drayman at Reid’s.’ Violet turned away as her father strode past them and he ignored her, which Charity thought odd, but maybe there had been a falling out in the family.
    â€˜Hurry up in there.’ A woman’s voice rang out across the yard, echoing off the high walls. ‘Some of us ain’t got all day.’
    â€˜That’s Mary Spinks. She lives on the second floor too, and she’s a cook at the workhouse. Keep out of her way. She’s got a fearsome temper and she’ll clock you one as soon as look at you if the mood takes her, but her daughter Maisie is a good laugh if you keep on her right side.’
    â€˜Isn’t there anyone it’s safe to talk too?’
    Violet smiled sweetly. ‘There’s always me, Charity. I could do with a friend.’
    â€˜And so could I,’ Charity said wholeheartedly. ‘I lost me grandad the day afore yesterday. He’s to be buried in a pauper’s grave and I won’t be able to find him, even if I saves up enough of me wages to go to Brookwood. It was the drink that did for him in the end.’
    Violet slipped her arm around Charity’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘You poor thing. I know how you feel. There’s three of my baby brothers and sisters buried in unmarked graves. It’s only the toffs what can afford headstones and horses with plumes.’
    Charity was about to answer when she heard a shuffling noise behind her. She turned to see Jethro skidding across the ice. ‘Look out,’ he shouted. ‘I can’t stop once I get going.’
    â€˜It’s always like that.’ Violet leapt out of the way and the line of people parted as Jethro careered along towards the privy, almost knocking down the startled man who was coming out, doing up his trousers. Jethro plunged into the brick building and the door slammed shut.
    Charity felt embarrassed for him and also for herself as all eyes turned upon her.
    â€˜Are you really going to work for him?’ Violet stared at her in disbelief.

Chapter Four
    CHARITY WAS IN the shop alone. Jethro had gone to an antiquarian book sale in Aldgate and left her in charge. During the six months she had been working for him they had come to an uneasy truce. He was still suspicious and his temper was easily roused, but although getting money out of him for necessities was still an uphill struggle, he was not as parsimonious as he had been in the beginning. Charity felt sorry for him, and she had been quick to realise just how difficult life was for a man with disabilities that left him in constant pain. She had discovered early on that he relied on laudanum to help him sleep, and she had learned to keep out of his way when he was having a particularly bad day.
    She could not say that she liked him or that he was a kindly employer, and she still slept under the counter in the shop, although Jethro had given her the money to buy a flock-filled mattress, which made sleeping easier. The cockroaches had seemingly left the building or had made the journey to the upper floors due to Charity’s obsession with cleanliness. She swept and scrubbed the floors daily, and there was not a speck of dust or dirt to be seen in the living accommodation or on the shop floor. The bookshelves were immaculate and she had begun to catalogue the volumes on sale. She took pride in window dressing and many more customers came through the door as a result. Jethro was slow to praise but Charity had the satisfaction of seeing the takings increase, and it was largely due to her efforts.
    The weather was hot and oppressive at the approach of autumn. She had wedged the shop door open in an attempt to cool the air, but had been forced to close it in order to shut out the smell of seething sewers, horse dung and the fumes from the brewery. Trade was slow due to the fact that the students and their professors