Название: Far From Home
Автор: Anne Bennett
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007383740
isbn:
TWO
The next morning, Sally woke with a jerk; she lay for a moment and listened to the city beginning the day. Then she climbed out of bed and walked across to the window. Though it was early enough to be still dusky, traffic had begun to fill the streets on both sides of the road, where horse wagons and carts vied for space with motor vehicles, and trams clattered along beside them. The clamorous noise rose in the air and filtered into the flat. The pavements too seemed filled with people and she watched some get off trams and others board them from the tram stop just up the road from Kate’s flat, while others hurried past with their heads bent against the weather.
She sighed as she leant her head against the windowpane. There were so many people and so much noise that she didn’t think she would ever get used to actually living here. She reflected on what it was like to awake in the farmhouse. The only sound after the rooster crowed was the cluck of the hens as she threw corn on to the cobbles in the yard, the occasional bleat of a ewe searching for her lamb, the odd bark of the dogs, or the lowing of the cows as they gathered in the fields for milking.
Birmingham seemed such an alien place, and yet Kate had seemed to settle into it so well. Now Sally was anxious to see the city centre; the previous evening she had been too distracted and it had been too dark to get more than just a vague impression.
In the cold light of day she wondered what on earth had possessed her to take flight. Why hadn’t she at least tried to talk to her parents? Tell them how she felt? Maybe if she had explained it right they would have agreed to let her spend a wee holiday with Kate the following spring when she would be seventeen. Well, she thought ruefully, God alone knew when she would ever get the chance again. She imagined, after this little caper, her mother would fit her with a ball and chain.
In her heart of hearts she had known she had made a terrible mistake as soon as she had seen the grey hulk of the mail boat waiting for her as she alighted from the train in Dún Laoghaire. Ulster Prince, she’d read on the side, and she had almost turned back then, but the press of people behind her had almost propelled her up the gangplank and on to the deck, which seemed to be heaving with people.
She hadn’t been on the deck long when there was a sudden blast from the funnels and black smoke escaped into the air as the engines began to pulsate and the deck rail to vibrate as the boat pulled away from the dock. Sally watched the shores of Ireland disappear into the misty, murky day, and wished she could have turned the clock back. She felt her insides gripped with a terrible apprehension, which wasn’t helped by the seasickness that assailed her as the boat ploughed its way through the tempestuous Irish Sea. Cold, sleety rain had begun to fall too, making it difficult to stay outside. Inside, however, the smell of whisky and Guinness mingled with cigarette smoke, and the smell of damp clothes and the whiff of vomit that pervaded everywhere made her stomach churn alarmingly, while the noise, chatter, laughter, singing and the shrieking of children caused her head to throb with pain. Like many of the other passengers, she’d ended up standing in the rain, being sick over the side of the mail boat. By the time she’d disembarked and thankfully stood on dry land again, she had never felt so damp or so wretched in the whole of her life.
She tried to gather her courage as the train thundered along the tracks towards Birmingham. She told herself that – even if she was cross with her – Kate would look after her and make everything right, because she always had in the past. But she was so unnerved by her own fear and the teeming platform that she was almost too scared to leave the train at New Street Station – she had never seen so many people in one place before.
She’d never heard so much noise either. There was the clattering rumble of trains arriving at other platforms and the occasional screech and the din from the vast crowds laughing and talking together. Then there were porters with trolleys loaded with suitcases warning people to ‘Mind their backs’. A newspaper vendor was obviously advertising his wares, though Sally couldn’t understand a word he said, and over it all were equally indecipherable loudspeaker announcements.
She felt totally dispirited as she breathed in the sooty, stale air, but she knew that if she didn’t soon alight, the train would carry her even further on, and so she clambered out on to the platform, dragging her case after her. She realized that the boldness that had enabled her to get this far had totally deserted her, and she had no idea where to go or what to do next. She looked around, feeling helpless and very afraid.
Most people were striding past her as if they were on some important errand; they seemed to know exactly where they were going, so she followed them and in minutes found herself in the street outside the station. If she had been unnerved inside the station, she was thoroughly alarmed by the scurrying crowds filling the pavements and traffic cramming the roads outside it. The noise too was incredible and she stood as if trans-fixed. There were horse-drawn carts, petrol-driven lorries, vans, cars and other large clattering monsters that she saw ran along rails – she remembered Kate had said they were called trams – all vying for space on the cobbled roads. And because of the gloominess of the day, many had their lights on, and they gleamed on to the damp pavements as she became aware of a sour and acrid smell that lodged at the back of her throat.
How thankful she had been to see taxis banked up waiting for passengers just a short way away. Not that she was that familiar with taxis, either; in fact she had never ridden in one before. It didn’t help that the taxi driver couldn’t understand her accent when she tried to tell him where her sister lived and she had to write it down.
Eventually, he had it, though, and Sally had gingerly slid across the seat, and then the taxi started up and moved into the road. She looked about her but could see little, despite the pools of brightness from the vehicles’ headlights and the streetlamps and lights from the illuminated shop windows spilling on to the streets, because low, thick clouds had prematurely darkened the late afternoon.
And then when Sally had arrived at the address that Kate always put on her letters home, the door had been locked, so she’d lifted the heavy knocker and banged it on the brass plate. No one came, and no one answered the second knock either, but at the third the door was suddenly swung ajar and a scowling young woman peered around it. In the pool of light from the lamppost, Sally could plainly see the scowl. And she demanded brusquely, ‘What d’you want and who are you anyway?’
‘Kate,’ Sally said, unnerved by the woman’s tone. ‘I want to see Kate Munroe. I am her sister from Ireland.’
The woman’s voice softened a little as she said, ‘Are you now? Kate never said owt about you coming.’
‘She didn’t know.’
‘Nothing wrong I hope?’
Sally shook her head. ‘I just wanted to give her a surprise.’
The other woman laughed. ‘Surprise?’ she repeated. ‘Shock more likely. Any road, she ain’t here, ducks. She lives upstairs but she won’t be in yet. She’s at work, see, and I think she comes home at six or thereabouts.’
‘Oh.’
‘You’d best wait for her here,’ the woman said, ushering her into the entrance hall. ‘I would take you into my place, but I’m off to work myself ’cos I work in a pub, see. I was getting ready, and that’s СКАЧАТЬ