Street Child Read Free Page A

girl,’ Judd said.
    ‘Judd, I’ve a sister who’s cook at Sunbury. She might give her a chance,’ Rosie said. She stood on the tips of her toes like a little girl, her hands clasped behind her back and her eyes pleading. ‘If you just let little Lizzie sleep down here with Emily till Sunday, and I can walk her over to Moll’s then.’
    ‘I don’t want to know they’re here, Rosie. If hislordship finds out, it’s every one of us for the workhouse. You know that, don’t you? I don’t know they’re here, these girls.’
    Judd swept out, her straight back and her firm stride telling them that she had never seen these girls in the kitchen. They listened to the swing of the door and for the clicking of her boots on the stairs to die away.
    ‘It’s the best I can do to help you, Annie,’ Rosie said. ‘I can’t do no more.’
    ‘It’s more than I expected,’ Mrs Jarvis said. ‘At least you’ve saved my girls from that place.’
    She stood up unsteadily. ‘We’d better go,’ she said to Jim. ‘It’s not fair to Rosie if we stay here any longer.’
    ‘I’ll leave you alone to say your goodbyes, then.’ said Rosie. She touched her friend quickly on the shoulder and went into the scullery, her face set in hurt, hard lines. They could hear her in there, banging pots around as if she was setting up an orchestra.
    Emily said nothing at all, and that was because she couldn’t. Her throat was tight with a band of pain. She couldn’t even look at her mother or at Jim, but hugged them quickly and went to sit down at the table, her head in her hands. Lizzie tried to follow her example, but as soon as Mrs Jarvis had put her hand on the door that led up to the street she burst out, ‘Take us with you, Ma. Don’t leave us here!’
    ‘I can’t,’ her mother said. She didn’t turn round to her. ‘Bless you. I can’t. This is best for you. God bless you, both of you.’
    She took Jim’s hand and bundled him quickly outof the door. Jim daren’t look at her. He daren’t listen to the sounds that she was making now that they were out into the day. He held his face up to the sky and let the snowflakes flutter against his cheeks to cool him. He had no idea what was going to happen to him or his mother, or whether he would ever see Emily and Lizzie again. He was more frightened than he had ever been in his life.

4
The Workhouse
    Jim and his mother walked for most of that day but they made very slow progress. They rested a bit near a statue of a man on a horse and after a very short distance they had to stop again for Mrs Jarvis to scoop water from a fountain. And on they went, trudging and stopping, trudging and stopping, until Jim’s mother could go no further. She put her arms round Jim and pressed her head down on to his shoulder.
    ‘God help you, Jim,’ she said.
    It seemed to Jim that she was simply tired then of walking and that she decided to go to sleep, there on the pavement. He squatted down beside her, glad of a chance to rest, feeling dizzy and tired himself, and was aware of a worry of voices round him, like flies buzzing. Someone shook him and he opened his eyes.
    ‘Where d’you live?’ a voice said.
    Jim sat up. Already it was growing dark. There were people round him and some were kneeling by his mother, trying to lift her. ‘We used to live in a cottage,’ said Jim. ‘We had a cow and some hens.’
    ‘Where d’you live now?’ It was a different voice, abit sharper than the last one. Jim tried to remember the name of the street where they had rented a room in Mr Spink’s big house, and couldn’t. He couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t wake up. He looked round for his bundle and saw that his wooden horse had gone. He clutched Lizzie’s old boots.
    ‘You haven’t got nowhere?’ the same voice asked.
    Jim shook his head. Someone was doing something to his mother, rubbing her hands, it looked like, dabbing her face with her shawl. ‘Get them to the workhouse,’ someone