No Wings to Fly Read Free Page A

‘I’d be long finished with school and I could reallyearn a livin’ for meself. And I don’t mean on Mellers’ farm either. I’d like to get right away from ’ere. Well away from Compton.’
    ‘Where would you go – Corster?’
    ‘Corster? No fear – I’d go to one of the big cities. One of them up north maybe. They say you can earn lots of money up north in the factories. Or maybe London. They got everything in London. And anything’d be better than this. It’ll be all right for you. You’ll be a teacher one day.’
    ‘Not for another three years yet, though.’
    ‘Still, it’ll come, and you’ll be doing what you’ve always wanted.’ He turned to her. ‘One day when you’re a real schoolmarm you’ll have a nice ’ouse, and I can come and stay with you.’
    ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘that would be nice.’
    He fell silent for a second, then said, ‘I know I’m a disappointment to ’im.’
    ‘To Father? A disappointment? Oh, Tom – that’s a melancholy thing to say.’
    ‘Well, look at me. I’m not big and tall like ’im. I never shall be. And I can’t do the things he does. He plays the violin, and he paints so well. And ’e’s clever with words and figures and such. The way you are. No wonder ’e hardly ever gets mad at you.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘I wish our mam was ’ere.’
    He was speaking of their own mother, of course. Their own mother who had died a week after Tom’s birth, taken by the Bright’s disease that she had suffered from for months. People had said it was a wonder she had lived for the birth of her son, and indeed a wonder that the boy had survived as well.
    ‘Was she nice – our mam?’ Tom said. ‘Tell me, Lil.’
    Lily smiled. ‘Oh, yes, she was. I may only have been five when she died, but I can remember her very well. Ah, Tom, she was nice, so nice.’
    ‘These things wouldn’t have happened if she’d still been alive.’
    ‘No – I doubt they would.’
    He winced slightly at a sudden pain that caught at him. Lily said, ‘He hurt you bad this time, didn’t he?’
    ‘Ah, it ‘urt like billy-o.’ He shook his head. ‘He wouldn’t be like he is if it wasn’t for her. She eggs ’im on and gets ’im riled up. He gets in knackered from work, and all ’e wants is to sit down and catch his breath, but she greets him with complaints about me. No wonder ’e gets mad. No man wants to ’ear that sort of thing the moment ’e sets foot indoors. And tonight he was madder than ever. Not only angry, though. It was like summat was up, summat was different.’
    ‘He’s had bad news,’ Lily said. ‘He told our mother just before I came up. Though he didn’t say what it was.’ She stirred on the bed. ‘I’d better get downstairs, or they’ll start to wonder what’s keeping me so long.’ She stood up. ‘I wish I could bring you some dinner . . .’
    ‘It don’t matter.’
    ‘You’ll be hungry.’
    ‘It won’t be the first time.’
    She smoothed down her skirt, moved quietly to the door, opened it and looked back. The August evening light was fading quickly now. Tom was a dim figure on the bed. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she whispered into the gloom, and then was gone.
    As she went back into the kitchen her father and stepmother did not look at her but kept their eyes on one another. She had heard the murmur of their voices as she reached the foot of the stairs, but they stopped talking as she opened the door. If it had not been for the fact that their conversation ceased, she would almost have thought they were not aware of her presence. There was silence in the room but for the ponderous ticking of the clock.
    ‘Dora went off to sleep all right,’ Lily said. ‘She was tired tonight.’
    Her stepmother nodded. ‘Yes – she would be. She’s been so active all day.’ She got up, pressing her hands together. ‘Well, this won’t get dinner, will it?’ And then, turning to Lily: ‘We’d best get busy.’ To her husband she said,