mek a sound or you'll wake Ma.'
She took her hand away and ran it down his body; she had undone his shirt buttons already and was now trying to unfasten the waistband of his trousers.
'Don't,' he gasped, his senses aroused, his body throbbing. 'If your ma should hear . . .'
She pressed closer to him; he could feel her breasts next to him, her nipples erect. 'You can touch me if you like, Mikey,' she breathed. 'I want you to.'
'No,' he whispered, his voice strained. 'It's not right.'
'It is,' she insisted, her hands wandering over him. 'It's what I want, Mikey.'
A sudden crash came from the bed and Mrs Turner exclaimed, 'Damned brick! It's all right. The brick's fallen out of bed.'
Mikey froze and Bridget held her breath as Mrs Turner threw back her blanket and bent to retrieve the hot brick which she had put in the bed to warm it. As she straightened up she saw Mikey and Bridget together on the floor.
She took a breath and Mikey saw the shock and outrage in her expression. 'Holy Mary! He's taken my daughter in sin!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
'No. No I haven't, Mrs Turner.' Mikey struggled to get out of the blanket to show Mrs Turner that he was still fully dressed. 'It's— it's . . .'
He didn't want to get Bridget into trouble, although she was the one who had come to him.
'I was cold, Ma.' Bridget slipped out of the blanket. 'Mikey was nearer to 'fire. That's all. Nowt happened.' She gave Mikey a glance of disapproval, blaming him, he felt, because nothing did.
'Nothing happened? Nothing happened?' Mrs Turner glared furiously at Mikey. 'If the brick hadn't fallen out of bed, then something might have! Get out of my house, you jailbird! I give you food and shelter and this is how you repay me? Seducing my daughter right in front of my nose! What would your poor mother think?' She crossed herself. 'God rest her soul.'
Mikey hurriedly fastened his shirt buttons and hitched up his trousers. 'I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'It's not how it looks, Mrs Turner. Honest to God it isn't.'
'Honest to God!' She aimed a futile blow at him. 'Don't you take the Lord's name in vain with your lies. Get out!' She turned to Bridget. 'And as for you, you brazen hussy, if your father had been here you'd have felt his belt all right, and you still might if I choose to tell him.'
Bridget clutched the neck of her shift. 'Please don't, Ma! Please don't tell him. It was a mistake. I was cold. It wasn't Mikey's fault,' she finally conceded.
'You can still get out,' her mother told him. 'I'll have no libertine taking advantage of my daughter. She'll stay pure until she's wed.'
Mikey picked up the blanket. I don't think she will, he thought. Another few minutes and we'd both have been deflowered. Or maybe, he pondered as he headed for the door, just maybe, Bridget had done this before.
He kept on uttering his apologies as he went out and it wasn't until he came to the top of Todd's Entry that he realized he was still clutching Mrs Turner's blanket. He daren't take it back in case she started haranguing him again, and as he hesitated, wondering what to do, he recognized the drunken figure of Bridget's father swaying in his direction.
Mikey started to run. The last thing he wanted was to be in the way of Turner's fists. He was well known for his violence, both towards anyone who disagreed with him or got in his way and to his wife and family. I just hope that Bridget and her mother have settled their differences and got back into bed before he crashes through the door.
He cut through various dark passages and alleyways, past several inns where Turner had probably spent the evening, eventually coming out in Silver Street. He ran along it, looking back several times to make sure he wasn't being followed, and instead of turning right into the Market Place he continued on towards the old church of St Mary's, where his mother sometimes went to pray. There were seats for eight hundred people inside and many of them were free for the poor to attend the
She took her hand away and ran it down his body; she had undone his shirt buttons already and was now trying to unfasten the waistband of his trousers.
'Don't,' he gasped, his senses aroused, his body throbbing. 'If your ma should hear . . .'
She pressed closer to him; he could feel her breasts next to him, her nipples erect. 'You can touch me if you like, Mikey,' she breathed. 'I want you to.'
'No,' he whispered, his voice strained. 'It's not right.'
'It is,' she insisted, her hands wandering over him. 'It's what I want, Mikey.'
A sudden crash came from the bed and Mrs Turner exclaimed, 'Damned brick! It's all right. The brick's fallen out of bed.'
Mikey froze and Bridget held her breath as Mrs Turner threw back her blanket and bent to retrieve the hot brick which she had put in the bed to warm it. As she straightened up she saw Mikey and Bridget together on the floor.
She took a breath and Mikey saw the shock and outrage in her expression. 'Holy Mary! He's taken my daughter in sin!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
'No. No I haven't, Mrs Turner.' Mikey struggled to get out of the blanket to show Mrs Turner that he was still fully dressed. 'It's— it's . . .'
He didn't want to get Bridget into trouble, although she was the one who had come to him.
'I was cold, Ma.' Bridget slipped out of the blanket. 'Mikey was nearer to 'fire. That's all. Nowt happened.' She gave Mikey a glance of disapproval, blaming him, he felt, because nothing did.
'Nothing happened? Nothing happened?' Mrs Turner glared furiously at Mikey. 'If the brick hadn't fallen out of bed, then something might have! Get out of my house, you jailbird! I give you food and shelter and this is how you repay me? Seducing my daughter right in front of my nose! What would your poor mother think?' She crossed herself. 'God rest her soul.'
Mikey hurriedly fastened his shirt buttons and hitched up his trousers. 'I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'It's not how it looks, Mrs Turner. Honest to God it isn't.'
'Honest to God!' She aimed a futile blow at him. 'Don't you take the Lord's name in vain with your lies. Get out!' She turned to Bridget. 'And as for you, you brazen hussy, if your father had been here you'd have felt his belt all right, and you still might if I choose to tell him.'
Bridget clutched the neck of her shift. 'Please don't, Ma! Please don't tell him. It was a mistake. I was cold. It wasn't Mikey's fault,' she finally conceded.
'You can still get out,' her mother told him. 'I'll have no libertine taking advantage of my daughter. She'll stay pure until she's wed.'
Mikey picked up the blanket. I don't think she will, he thought. Another few minutes and we'd both have been deflowered. Or maybe, he pondered as he headed for the door, just maybe, Bridget had done this before.
He kept on uttering his apologies as he went out and it wasn't until he came to the top of Todd's Entry that he realized he was still clutching Mrs Turner's blanket. He daren't take it back in case she started haranguing him again, and as he hesitated, wondering what to do, he recognized the drunken figure of Bridget's father swaying in his direction.
Mikey started to run. The last thing he wanted was to be in the way of Turner's fists. He was well known for his violence, both towards anyone who disagreed with him or got in his way and to his wife and family. I just hope that Bridget and her mother have settled their differences and got back into bed before he crashes through the door.
He cut through various dark passages and alleyways, past several inns where Turner had probably spent the evening, eventually coming out in Silver Street. He ran along it, looking back several times to make sure he wasn't being followed, and instead of turning right into the Market Place he continued on towards the old church of St Mary's, where his mother sometimes went to pray. There were seats for eight hundred people inside and many of them were free for the poor to attend the
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