Coronation Day. Kay Brellend

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ into his cupped palms to warm them. Despite the approach of spring a light sleet was descending and treacherously coating the pavement so he trod carefully in his smart leather shoes and stuffed his hands into his pockets to protect them from an icy breeze. He came to a halt in front of his aunt’s dilapidated house. Once the door had been painted bottle green but now only a few flakes of colour clung to the splintery wood. Christopher turned to Ted Potts. He’d tried to shake him off earlier so he could visit his aunt on his own. ‘Why don’t you go and knock Vic up.’ He jerked his head, hoping to hurry Ted on his way. ‘I’ll meet you both at the dog track at about seven o’clock.’

      ‘Nah … ’s’alright.’ Ted gave a martyred sigh. ‘I’m here now, ain’t I. I’ll stick around with you.’ He didn’t relish going into this fleapit to see Christopher’s great-aunt, yet neither did he want to go to Vic’s home. If Vic’s wife were about he’d get an ear-bashing for luring Vic off out. Deirdre kept tabs on Vic and, considering that they’d only been married two years, and Vic had already been caught out with another woman, it wasn’t surprising.

      ‘Go on …’ Christopher twitched his head again. But his friend seemed content to slouch against the doorjamb and fiddle with a penknife. Once he had it open he started idly cleaning his nails. Christopher scowled and raised a hand to hammer on the door. A window above was shoved up and he stepped back to grin at the wrinkled face, edged by two plaited grey buns, peering out.

      ‘That you, Chris? Come on up. Door’s open,’ Matilda called down. ‘See you’ve brought yer mate with yer.’

      ‘Alright up there, Mrs K?’ Ted Potts called in greeting, a wonky fag wagging between his lips. ‘Brass monkeys out here, it is.’

      ‘Got the kettle on,’ Matilda informed them before ramming home the sash in its frame.

      The two young men proceeded into a dingy damp hallway and up some perilously rickety stairs. Very few of the spindles remained and the handrail shuddered when touched. On the first-floor landing a door stood open and Christopher and Ted filed into Matilda’s home.

      It never failed to amaze Ted why anyone would choose to continue living here now that the Council was clearing the street and re-housing people elsewhere. But Christopher had told him that his aunt would hang on in her first-floor room till she was forced out. Chris had said in an odd way he understood Matilda’s hankering to grip onto her past.

      At present Matilda was the only person occupying this particular tenement house and Christopher had urged her to spread out a bit and make use of a couple of the other rooms too. The rent would be the same for one room or all nine of them. Mr Keane, the landlord, was glad to get paid anything at all. Over half of the properties in the street were now empty and producing no income for their owners. The worst examples had been abandoned completely by the freeholders.

      But Matilda’s view was that it was easier, in the winter months, for a person living alone to keep cosy in a small space. So she lived, slept, ate in a single first-floor front room, much as she had for a good part of her life. Fortunately, in a road of derelict houses she’d found one that was slightly better than the rest. Most had never been connected to electricity but she’d managed to get a property where she could plug in her precious wireless that had been a Christmas gift from her nephew, Rob.

      ‘Kettle’s just boiled,’ Matilda said. ‘Who’s fer tea?’

      There was no response to her offer because both her nephew and his friend were staring at the little girl sitting on the bed, chewing on a biscuit. The child gave them both a shy smile then ducked her face behind a curtain of long ebony hair.

      Matilda grunted a laugh. ‘Say hello to Kathleen, you two. I’m keepin’ an eye on her for Noreen while she’s off out doing a bit of cleaning to earn herself a couple o’ bob.’

      ‘I thought the Murphys had two little ’uns,’ Chris said, recovering from the surprise of seeing his aunt doing a spot of babysitting.

      ‘Noreen’s taken Rosie with her in the pram. She’s not walking yet and still sleeps a lot, so ain’t a problem. But this little one gets fed up waiting fer her mum to finish work, don’t yer, Kathleen?’

      Kathleen nodded her small head. ‘You’d sooner come and sit with yer Auntie Matilda, wouldn’t yer? Like me biscuits, don’t yer …’ She gave the child an affectionate grin. ‘Anyhow I know your daddy’s home now ’cos I saw him walking up the street out the window. So do you want to go home or wait for Mummy to fetch you?’

      Kathleen slanted a peek at Ted. ‘Home …’ she whispered.

      Chris burst out laughing. ‘That’s your ugly mug scared her off. Told you to go off to Vince’s, didn’t I …’

      ‘Take her back home fer us, Chris, would you, and I’ll make the tea.’

      ‘Me aunt saw you were back so asked me to drop Kathleen off home.’ Chris had been holding the little girl’s hand, but as Kieran Murphy cautiously opened the door to him, he offered it to her father to take.

      Kieran Murphy continued staring at him, looking shocked. ‘Mrs Keiver’s been minding Kathleen?’

      ‘Yeah … while Noreen’s at work, didn’t you know?’ Chris could see the fellow’s freckled cheeks reddening in embarrassment or anger.

      ‘Please tell your aunt thank you very much,’ Kieran returned stiffly, drawing his daughter to his side. He was about to shut the door but quickly stepped forward before Chris had gone too far. ‘You work for Wild Brothers, don’t you. I’ve seen you driving one of their vans.’

      Chris retraced his steps. ‘Yeah, I’m Chris Wild.’

      ‘Is there any work going at all?’

      Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets. He’d had a feeling he was soon going to have this question fired at him by Kieran Murphy. He’d seen the fellow watching them working, trying to pluck up the courage to come over and ask for a job. And now he was going to have to disappoint him.

      ‘Sorry,’ he grimaced ruefully. ‘If me guvnor had his way he’d put someone off.’

      Kieran gave a crisp nod and retreated back inside, mumbling his thanks.

      ‘That tea brewed?’ Christopher, now back at Matilda’s, pulled out a chair, parking himself at the battered planked table.

      ‘Not fer me, thanks, Mrs K,’ Ted said quickly, having noted the grimy chips on some cups in an enamel bowl. He was seated on a chair that was losing its stuffing and was glad Chris had quickly returned from taking the kid home because he’d run out of small talk with Matilda. He gazed about at old mismatched furniture that he knew his parents would have been embarrassed to put out for the dustmen to cart off. The iron bedstead shoved in the corner was strewn with tatty clothes and other odds and ends. A large oval mirror in a gilt frame hung on the wall, above the hob grate where the kettle was puffing steam, and was reflecting Ted’s expression of distaste back at him.

      ‘So how you lads doing up the other end?’ Matilda asked cheerily.

      The last time she’d entered the demolition zone where the lads were working had been when she’d felt compelled to join her nephews in commiserating about the king’s death.

      She set two cups and saucers on the table and gave the teapot a swirl to mix the leaves then tested the brew by pouring a few drops. It looked СКАЧАТЬ