The Boy with the Latch Key. Cathy Sharp
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Название: The Boy with the Latch Key

Автор: Cathy Sharp

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780008211615

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СКАЧАТЬ I know Martha Jenkins and she will vouch for me.’

      ‘Not by the time I’ve done,’ he muttered beneath his breath.

      Sandra had walked out on him, but a lingering doubt nagged at her mind. If Reg really had it in for her, she might be in serious trouble. He was a vindictive man and she wouldn’t be the first woman to lose her job because of wicked lies …

      Her bus was stopping. She got off and walked quickly towards the factory, noticing the headlines on the newspaper stand. Anthony Eden had taken over from Mr Churchill when he resigned and now he was talking about calling a general election – as if that would make any difference to women like her! Reaching her workplace at the corner of Brick Lane, Sandra hung her jacket in the small dark cloakroom and entered the office. Here it was lighter, because of the large window at the back, and there were several desks, some equipped with typewriters, others like her own, piled high with folders and an overflowing in-tray. Reg smirked at her as she passed him and she saw two of the other girls whispering and giving her odd glances.

      ‘Don’t sit down, Mrs Miller,’ Mrs Landsbury said from the doorway into her office. ‘Mr Jenkins would like to see you immediately.’

      Sandra looked at the manager’s secretary and saw frosty disapproval in her eyes. She glanced at Reg and knew at once that he was gloating. Obviously she was in trouble and she had no idea why …

      ‘I want to play with Mimi,’ June said that evening, pulling at Archie’s hand as he dragged her into the baker’s at the end of Whitechapel Road. ‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t go round her house. Her dad got her some skates and she says I can borrow them …’

      ‘You can go round there on Saturday,’ Archie said as he paid for the crusty cottage loaf from the baker. ‘It’s no use you sulking, June. Mum told me to look after you. I’ve got to get some tea for us both and then I’ve got schoolwork to catch up on. I have to do twenty sums tonight and they’re hard ones.’

      ‘I hate sums,’ June said, making a rude face at him as they walked together towards the row of dilapidated houses where they lived. The entire street was scheduled for demolition, some of the terraced houses already derelict, and the gutters choked with rubbish. Archie had heard the landlord telling his mother that she would have to find somewhere else to live, but she said everywhere was too expensive and she was staying put until she was forced to quit.

      ‘If you don’t do your schoolwork you’ll never get on …’ Archie muttered and put his hand through the letterbox to fish out the key on a string.

      ‘I’m going to be a famous model and wear lovely clothes when I leave school. I don’t need sums to look pretty.’ She kicked at the scarred front door, with its peeling green paint. ‘I hate comin’ back to an empty house.’

      With her pale-blonde hair and her blue eyes, June took after their mother. She looked so sweet that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but she could be a real pain as far as Archie was concerned. He would’ve liked to let her go with her friend so that he could have some peace, but there was no chance of that, because Mum would create if June wasn’t home when she got back.

      ‘Mum said she would be home earlier tonight,’ Archie lied, trying not to notice that there was a faint smell of drains in the kitchen again. Mum had poured loads of strong disinfectant down the sink but the stink always came back. ‘Maybe she’ll let us listen to Dick Barton on the radio—’

      ‘I don’t like Dick Barton,’ June said and flung herself down on the lumpy old settee. ‘I don’t like Journey into Space either. It frightens me when you listen to that, Archie …’

      ‘What do you want to do then?’

      ‘I want a comic. Can I have School Friend?’ She sprang up eagerly.

      Archie fingered the change from the loaf and sighed. Sometimes his mother would let them spend a few pennies on comics. He would have liked one about Rock ’n’ Roll, because he was a big fan of Bill Haley & the Comets, and he was saving up because he wanted to go and see James Dean in East of Eden. He’d seen it once already, but he admired the rebellious American teenager who drove fast motorbikes, even though Archie wasn’t old enough to see his films really; his friend down the local flea pit let him in with a wink and a nudge sometimes. However, June wouldn’t stop moaning unless she had her own way. She would create all night and he would never get his homework done.

      He gave her a florin. ‘Here, go and get it from the corner shop but come straight back. If you run off, I’ll come after you and you’ll be sorry!’

      June stuck her tongue out, grabbed the money and ran.

      Archie saved most of what his mother let him keep from the odd jobs he did on Saturdays and in the evenings in summer. He’d dodged school for a while to find work down on the Docks, but the inspector had come after his mother and threatened to fine her if he didn’t go regularly, so he’d had to give that up, which annoyed him, because he desperately wanted a gramophone. He listened to the popular songs on the radio, but it wasn’t the same as having your own records. Some of his friends at school had record players and they bought the latest hits with their birthday money. Archie usually had clothes for his birthday from the nearly-new shop down near Petticoat Lane. His mother didn’t buy from the market stalls, because she said a lot of the stuff was worn out.

      ‘Some people buy new clothes and then sell the ones their kids have grown out of,’ Sandra had told Archie when she’d bought him his first pair of long trousers the previous Christmas. ‘These have hardly been worn, love. I wanted to buy new, but I just couldn’t manage it – even with the money you earned from delivering papers.’

      ‘They’re all right, Mum,’ Archie had smiled at her. ‘At least they’re long trousers and people won’t think I’m still a kid.’

      ‘I’m going to save up for some new ones for your birthday next year,’ she’d promised. ‘I did knit you a new jumper …’

      ‘It’s great,’ Archie said, because the stripes were his school colours, which meant he could probably get away with wearing it there. The uniform was supposed to be grey trousers and a navy pullover or blazer and a white shirt. Archie’s shirts were frayed at the cuffs but he pulled them up inside his sweater and hoped that no one noticed.

      He was still investigating the contents of the pantry when his sister returned clutching her comic and a tube of wine gums.

      ‘Hey, I said you could have a comic, not spend all of it,’ Archie said.

      ‘I’m hungry,’ June said as she dragged her coat off and flopped down on the old sofa.

      ‘What do you want – fried bacon and egg, or would you prefer scrambled eggs on toast?’

      ‘Can I have bacon and egg with toast … in the middle like a sandwich, and I’d like some brown sauce.’

      ‘What did your last servant die of?’ Archie demanded. ‘Set the table while I get it ready then … and I’m having some cocoa with mine …’

      Archie looked at the clock. It was already half past eight in the evening and his mother still hadn’t got back from work. June had gone up to bed and taken her comic to read on the promise that Mum would bring her some more cocoa when she came home.

      Having finished the homework he’d been given, Archie eyed the dirty plates, cups and saucepans СКАЧАТЬ