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A Sister's Sorrow

Page 4

by Kitty Neale


  Sarah’s eyes shot open at the sound of her mother’s angry voice. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but it must have been for a while. She saw her mother standing at the kitchen sink with an empty gin bottle in her hand, and Tommy shaking as he cowered behind a kitchen chair. ‘What’s going on?’ Sarah asked, confused.

  ‘You’re supposed to be looking after him, but while you’ve been snoring your head off, the little bastard has tipped me gin down the sink! I’ll kill him, I swear I’ll skin the bleeder alive!’

  Sarah jumped from the sofa and ran to scoop Tommy into her arms. ‘Sorry, Mum. He don’t know any better. Please, don’t take it out on him … I’ll get you some more gin.’

  ‘Too right you will, but I’m telling you that little sod is still gonna get a good hiding from me, and if you try and stop me, you’ll get the same!’

  Sarah knew only too well what her mother was like and that she wouldn’t back down. Though Annie was small-framed, she could still pack a punch, and Sarah feared for Tommy more than she did for herself.

  ‘Please, Mum, I’ll go now and get the gin. Don’t hit the boy, he won’t do it again,’ Sarah said as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, girl, you’re too soft with that precious brother of yours. I don’t care how much you turn on the waterworks, he ain’t getting away with it!’

  Sarah could feel Tommy quivering in her arms and watched in horror as her mother went for the cane she kept next to her mattress. Annie didn’t use it often, preferring to deliver a slap or a punch, but when she did produce the cane, Sarah knew it meant business. She still had the scars across her buttocks to prove it.

  Tommy seemed to sense Sarah’s fears and began crying hysterically. She’d do anything for the boy, whatever it would take to protect him from the intense pain she’d experienced from one of her mother’s lashings. ‘I won’t allow you to whip Tommy!’ she said firmly.

  ‘You won’t allow me? Who the hell do you think you are? You’ll do as you’re bloody well told, so either hand over the boy or get out for good, the pair of you!’

  Sarah’s heart raced. She could tell her mother was on the brink of complete rage. If they were to avoid a beating, she’d have to act fast. In a panic and without stopping to collect any of their belongings, she drew in a deep breath, bracing herself before heading for the front door. If she left now, she knew there would be no turning back, but what other choice did she have? She threw her mother one final look, then turned quickly and walked through the door.

  Tommy could see over her shoulder and suddenly screamed, ‘Run, Sarah! Run!’

  As she picked up her pace and ran along the corridor, Sarah looked behind her and caught a glimpse of her mother hard on their heels, hand raised in the air, ready to lash out with the cane. It was the last thing she saw before she turned and fled down the stairs, gasping with relief when her mum didn’t follow, but her foul language echoed down the stairwell as she threatened to shred the skin off their backs if they dared to come back.

  Tears streamed down Sarah’s face as she vowed never to return to her mother’s flat again.

  Chapter 7

  Annie paced the floor. Her daughter had really messed things up for her this time. She had no gin, no money and no customers. She knew it would be pointless to go begging to Cyril as he’d recently thrown her out of his pub, and on more than one occasion too. She could go cap in hand to Eddy, but after the slap she’d given him earlier, she doubted she’d get a welcome reception there either.

  Feeling exhausted and exasperated, she slumped on the edge of the sofa and sat with her legs splayed, chewing her fingernails. The agitation caused by the need for a drink was driving her crazy. In a bid to calm herself and think clearly, she drew in a few long deep breaths and leaned back to rest. Sarah’s coat was over the back of the sofa, and as Annie laid her head on it, she felt something hard in the pocket.

  She grabbed the coat and frantically began rifling through the pockets. Then, to her relief and delight, she found several coins. This is the least you owe me, Annie thought as licked her lips at the thought of buying some gin. She gathered the money and glanced around the flat. It felt strangely empty and lonely, but Annie was resolute. If her kids had the audacity to show their faces here again, she’d give them what for. Good riddance to ’em, she thought, and untied the key on the back of the door so they couldn’t get in. After all, Sarah was eighteen now, and hardly a child. Annie had done her bit to bring her up, and now she reasoned it was time the girl made her own way in the world and found out what life is really like.

  It was getting dark and Sarah could see Tommy was tired and cold, especially as all he had on his legs was a pair of thin shorts. She wished she’d taken the time to at least grab their coats, but with the fear of their mother’s wrath, she hadn’t been thinking clearly.

  ‘Sarah, I’m so worn out. Can’t we go back home now?’

  ‘No, love, sorry. That’s not our home any more,’ she told him as she reached for his hand to gently pull him along.

  ‘So, where’s our home then?’

  That’s a very good question, thought Sarah. She knew she had to find somewhere for them to sleep but with no family, friends or money she felt at a complete loss.

  ‘Please, Sarah, my feet hurt, let’s go home,’ Tommy whined, and began coughing.

  It sounded chesty again, and Sarah knew she had to find them somewhere to rest. ‘Here, sit on this wall a minute while I get me thinking cap on,’ she said, trying to sound cheery, though really she felt in utter despair. She lifted the boy and placed him on a garden wall.

  ‘I’m cold …’ Tommy moaned again.

  ‘I know you are, love,’ Sarah said, then wrapped her arms around her brother.

  Then it came to her. Mr Sayers’ shed! It had been four years since she had been there, and she hoped the old couple still owned the house. If they did, the back gate might still be unlocked and so would the shed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do for tonight. At least they would have some shelter. ‘Come on, little man, we’re going on an adventure!’ she said with a renewed vigour.

  ‘What adventure?’ Tommy asked, not showing quite the same enthusiasm as his sister.

  ‘We’re going to find a secret hut, and maybe, if we’re as quiet as mice, we may find some treasure in there!’

  Tommy’s eyes lit up and he jumped from the wall. ‘What treasure, Sarah? Where’s the secret hut? Have pirates been in the hut? Is it Captain Hook’s treasure?’

  Sarah chuckled. Peter Pan was Tommy’s favourite story. ‘I don’t know, we’ll have to find out for ourselves, but remember what I said – we have to be very, very quiet.’

  Tommy nodded, and they set off for Mr Sayers’ old shed.

  Half an hour later, Sarah was pleased to find the back gate unlocked and, as she looked up the garden path, she was relieved to see the house in darkness. She turned to Tommy and placed a finger over her lips. ‘Shush,’ she whispered.

  Tommy clung on to Sarah’s skirt, almost hiding behind her. With trepidation, they crept through the gate and up to the shed. Sarah pulled on the door. Thank goodness, she thought as the door creakily opened. She shot a look over her shoulder. There wasn’t any sign of movement from the house, so she quickly pulled Tommy inside with her, then gritted her teeth at the sound of the door creaking again as she closed it. She just had to hope the noise hadn’t disturbed anyone.

  ‘I don’t like it in here … it’s dark, Sarah,’ Tommy said.

  ‘It’s all right, look,’ she replied, and then pulled back a piece of gingham material that was stretched on a curtain wire over a small window.

  Once the curtain was open, half of the shed was illuminated with moonlight.

  ‘There you go, now we can see a bit better. I wonder where the treasure could be? Don’t touch anything yet, but can you see it?’

  Sarah watched Tommy, who looked animated as he scanned the shelves for treasure. Then her eyes fixed on Mr Say
ers’ shovel. It was in the corner, leaning against the wall. She instantly recognised it, together with his old flat cap, resting on top of the handle. She felt a lump in her throat and fought to hold back tears. She hadn’t expected to react like this, but it upset her to see his things, forgotten and covered in spiders’ webs and dust.

  ‘Where’s the treasure, Sarah?’ Tommy whispered.

  ‘I’m not sure. It’s a bit too dark to look tonight, so let’s get some sleep and we can have a look in the morning when the sun comes up.’

  ‘Sleep in here? But, Sarah, it’s cold and I don’t like spiders.’

  Sarah looked around and saw a pile of old newspapers. She picked one up and could just about make out the date. 1948. The last time she’d seen Mr Sayers. These must be his papers, the ones she used to read to him, she thought. Then she spotted a ball of string on one of the shelves.

  ‘Sit yourself down in this chair,’ she told Tommy, pulling an old deckchair forward and opening it. The stripy cloth looked worn, but she thought it would be a comfortable place for Tommy to rest. ‘Now don’t you worry about any spiders. You’re a lot bigger than they are so they’re more frightened of you than you are of them. Anyhow, spiders can’t hurt you.’

  Tommy looked apprehensive but did as he was told, while she took sheets of the newspapers and scrunched them around his feet. Then using the scissors that had been with the string, she cut it into lengths and tied it around the paper. She rubbed his legs briskly.

  ‘There you go, your feet will be as warm as toast now,’ she told him.

  ‘What if Captain Hook comes back for his treasure and finds us here? He’ll make us walk the plank!’

  ‘Don’t be daft, have you seen any pirate ships round here? If there is any treasure, it’s been here for years and long forgotten by the likes of Captain Hook. I’m going to put some newspaper over you then I want you to close your eyes and get some sleep. We’ll have to be up really early in the morning.’

  ‘But what about you, where are you going to sleep?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Right here, on the floor next to you.’

  Once Tommy was covered with the paper, it didn’t take long for him to drift off. Sarah tried to make herself as comfortable as she could, but there was a terrible draught coming under the shed door. She felt something crawling on her face, and grimaced as she brushed off a bug. At least they were safe for tonight, but she couldn’t sleep as her mind churned with thoughts of the challenges she knew the daylight would bring. Tommy would wake up hungry, they were homeless and without a penny to their name. She wondered if Tommy would be better off in a children’s home. He’d get fed and watered, which was more than she could offer the child.

  Her eyes focused again on Mr Sayers’s flat cap. Thinking about him seemed to give her comfort. He had cared for her, more than her own mother ever had. She’d loved him dearly and missed him. It had broken her heart when he’d died.

  She eventually closed her eyes, and though it was cold in the shed, she found that she felt warm, and as if she was lying on soft feathers. ‘Goodnight, Mr Sayers,’ she whispered, feeling a strange sense that he was watching over her. It gave her courage and, before she gave in to sleep, Sarah decided her mind was set. She wouldn’t be separated from Tommy. Come what may, she’d make sure he wasn’t taken from her. She might not be able to give him a home and proper food, but she could give him all the love he needed, and that was something she knew he’d never get in an orphanage.

  Chapter 8

  Sarah was already wide awake when the sun came up. By the time Tommy awoke, she’d had a rummage through the shed but had only found a few things that she thought may come in handy: the scissors and string, an old dark-grey utility blanket and, of course, Mr Sayers’s flat cap. It didn’t appear that anyone had been in the shed since Mr Sayers had died, so she didn’t think taking the small items was stealing. The garden tools might be worth a few bob, but then that really would be theft so Sarah decided to leave them. Best of all, she’d found an old tobacco tin filled with small lead soldiers. She’d left the tin hidden, but in a place where she knew Tommy would easily find it.

  Tommy brushed off the newspapers and pushed himself up in the deckchair. ‘Can we look for the treasure now?’ he asked as he untied the string on his feet.

  ‘Good morning to you too!’ Sarah said with a small laugh. ‘Go on then,’ she added, ‘but make sure you keep the noise down.’

  Tommy scrambled out of the chair and began mooching around. Dust filled the air and spiders ran for cover as he carefully moved things. Then, just as Sarah had anticipated, he found the tobacco tin, and gently shook it. The metal soldiers rattled inside, and Sarah smiled as Tommy gasped.

  ‘What do you think is in here?’ he asked excitedly.

  ‘I don’t know, it could be the treasure. Open it and find out.’

  Tommy pulled the lid open and raised his eyebrows at what he saw. ‘Look, Sarah. These are so ’mazing,’ Tommy said as he studied the painted soldiers in their red coats and black hats.

  ‘Yes, they are. Well done for finding the treasure but now we have to sneak out of here. Put the tin in your pocket, there’s a good boy,’ Sarah said as she placed Mr Sayers’s flat cap on his head.

  She peeked through the small shed window. There didn’t seem to be any movement from the house and all the curtains were still drawn. ‘Come on, Tommy,’ Sarah said and took him by the hand. She pushed open the creaky door to make a dash for the back gate and when they emerged from the back alley, they began wandering the streets of terraced houses.

  ‘Where are we going? I’m hungry,’ Tommy said as he dragged his feet.

  ‘How about a trip to Battersea Park?’

  ‘Can we have something to eat?’

  ‘Yes, later,’ Sarah replied, not knowing where their next meal would come from.

  ‘I’m cold, I want to go home.’

  ‘I told you, we don’t live with Mum any more. Here, this’ll keep you warm,’ she said, and wrapped the utility blanket like a cape around Tommy, securing it with a knot under his chin.

  Tommy was beginning to lag, but as they turned the corner onto Battersea Bridge Road, Sarah noticed his mood suddenly perk up.

  ‘Sarah, Sarah … the bridge. Please can we go on the bridge and look down at the boats … please?’

  She hadn’t planned on walking over the bridge, but it seemed it would be a welcome distraction for Tommy. ‘OK, but no throwing things over the side like you did last time.’

  ‘All right, I promise,’ Tommy said, and skipped ahead.

  Sarah quickened her pace to keep up with him. Though he could see the boats through the Moorish-style latticing balustrades, he was almost tall enough to see over the top. She was nervous about him reaching too far and toppling into the Thames. ‘Hey, wait for me,’ she called.

  Tommy stopped and began to jump up and down. ‘Pick me up, please, Sarah …’ he asked excitedly.

  She wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist and held him up to look out along the river.

  ‘I wish we could go on a boat,’ Tommy said.

  ‘Maybe you will one day. You could sign up with the Navy and live on one of them big battleships.’

  ‘Nah,’ said Tommy, ‘I’d miss you too much ’cos you couldn’t come on the boat ’cos no girls would be allowed.’

  Sarah affectionately squeezed Tommy and he giggled in response.

  Just as her arms were beginning to ache and she was about to put him down, he squealed, ‘Look – Sarah – I can see treasure!’

  ‘Can you? What treasure can you see?’ Sarah asked, playing along with him.

  ‘Down there, in the mud … LOOK.’

  Tommy seemed very insistent, so Sarah put him down and leaned into the balustrade for a closer look. The mud and shingle appeared almost black, but Sarah spotted something gold glistening in the sun’s rays. ‘You’re right, Tommy, there’s definitely something down there.’

  ‘Come on, let’s go and get it.
I bet it’s real treasure that’s fallen off a pirate ship,’ Tommy said, and began running towards some concrete steps that led down to the banks.

  As he made a dash down the steps, Sarah gave chase. ‘Wait,’ she shouted, ‘it’s too dangerous. You stay here, I’ll go.’

  ‘But … but …’

  ‘No, Tommy, there’s no buts about it. I want you to sit on this bottom step and don’t move, OK?’

  Tommy put on a sulky face but nodded his head.

  ‘Good boy. Sit tight and I’ll be back in a minute with the treasure.’

  Satisfied that Tommy would follow her instructions, she cautiously stepped down onto the foreshore, half expecting her feet to sink in the stinking mud. Thankfully, it wasn’t as mushy or as deep as she had expected. She looked again for the shiny object and mapped a path in her head which would take her mainly across the shingle.

  She slowly made her way through the mud, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell. Her black lace-up shoes were soon covered in thick gloop, and she nearly lost her balance a couple of times, slipping on green algae-covered rocks. As she got closer to the object, her heart began to race. She was sure it was a piece of jewellery. Finders, keepers, she thought, desperate for the money it could be worth.

  Finally, she reached down and pulled the gold from the mud. It was filthy, but she could see it was a very thick and heavy gold bracelet adorned with several jewelled charms. It must be worth a fortune, she thought, quickly heading back towards the steps.

  ‘Is it treasure, Sarah?’ Tommy asked, as he jumped up excitedly.

  ‘Oh, yes, it most certainly is,’ Sarah replied, holding out the bracelet for Tommy to see. ‘Look.’

  ‘Wow, I’ve never seen nothing like that. Is it ours now? Can we keep it?’

  ‘Well, really, we should try and find the owner or take it to the police station, but given that it was in the mud down here, I doubt we’d ever know who lost it. So, yes, I suppose it is ours, but we can’t keep it ’cos I’ll have to sell it or we’ll be going hungry.’

 

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