Gracie's Sin Read Free Page A

sou’westers. The bedraggled pair landed unceremoniously, flat on their stomachs, completely winded and all dignity long gone. With nothing to hold on to but the sides of the wagon, and the road being full of pot holes it proved to be a hazardous trip. For the whole of that terrifying, lurching journey, they clung on to each other for dear life, quite certain that at any moment they would roll off the back and be left for dead on the open road, while each of them privately wondered what on earth they had let themselves in for.
     
    The lorry drove through a miscellany of roads and tracks that led through the dense woodland which fills the valley of the River Fowey, passed over a small humped bridge before finally turning left through a pair of ornate gates by a small square stone lodge with a single smoking chimney. Inside, unseen from the road, a young girl stood at the kitchen window, hands resting in the hot, soapy water. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, leaving a soap bubble caught in a shining black curl as she watched in silent envy. The lorry trundled past, as it did every day, to and fro, backwards and forwards, morning and night full of happy, laughing girls. She had grown accustomed to the sound, yet marvelled that they could still find the energy to sing after a long day working in the woods.
    Rose had once been fond of singing herself. She’d always believed in starting each day with a light heart but that had been before certain individuals had devoted the rest of it to draining that exuberance from her.
    Almost on cue, the sound of squeals and a different sort of laughter came from the living room behind her, followed by the voice of her brother, slurred with drink.
    ‘Come here Gertie, me sweet maid, let me warm ye up. Rose, when you’ve finished, fetch in another load of logs, there’s a good girl.’
    Rose let out a heavy sigh but made no response. She hadn’t sat down for more than a minute since she’d left her bed at six, or was it five this morning. There always seemed something needing to be done, some task to perform, even now, at the end of a day, when she’d thought herself free at last.
    She leaned forward to get a better view of the road but it was quite empty now of the lumbering vehicle. Despite the mud and the rain, the long tiring days felling, the sparse food and probably harsh discipline at times, Rose wished she could be one of them; one of the laughing girls in the truck so that one day it might carry her away from this existence she called a life. She longed for this impossible dream with all her young heart. She envied their freedom, their energy, their ability to laugh at nothing. Most of all, she envied them the warmth of loving companionship.
    Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a friend of her own. She had a vague memory of playing with some children long ago on a beach, so she must have had friends once, mustn’t she? But then, perhaps not. The only one she could truly recall ever having, was her darling mother. Sometimes Rose’s heart ached with the pain of losing her.
    When Eddie had got this job at Clovellan House, she’d thought they’d landed in heaven. It had been the first good thing that had happened to them in over two years, ever since poor papa’s death which had followed on so quickly after Ma’s that Rose had thought the pain would go on for ever. Everything would be better now, she’d thought. Eddie would feel he had a purpose at last, that he was valued, and his temper would improve. Now she knew different. His inexplicable resentment against her had continued to fester, quite beyond her comprehension.
    No matter how hard she tried to please him, however much she assured him of her deep respect and love for him, her darling brother, he seemed determined to hold her responsible for what he perceived to be his parents’ rejection of him. Rose knew it was only because of the deep grief he suffered, but her own helplessness in