Read Online A Glimpse at Happiness by Jean Fullerton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jean Fullerton
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just think the cellars had been abandoned.
Harry rolled the barrel off his shoulder to join the other four by the stairs. Ma watched, but her gaze ran over him without any obvious pleasure and he wondered again what more he could do to please the old cow.
‘What took you so long?’ she barked, but before Harry could decide on a suitable reply, the door at the top of the stairs opened. Charlie Tugman sauntered in, wearing a dress suit complete with a threadbare top hat. As it couldn’t have been more than seven in the morning, he looked quite ridiculous.
Ma’s eyes darted upward to where her youngest son stood and a look of pure adoration spread across her face, giving it an oddly innocent appearance.
Harry’s shoulders sagged with despondency. He knew the only thing he could do to please the old harpy: be Charlie.
His brother stomped heavily down the stairs, the treads creaking and cracking beneath his weight. He yawned when he reached the bottom, and took off his tall hat. He scratched his head, setting his oiled hair askew.
The men carrying the crates of sugar and stacks of tobacco back into the inner recess of the cavern acknowledged him and continued with their task.
‘Nice of you to join us,’ Harry said, glaring at his brother.
Charlie threw himself on the chair beside Ma. She reached out to stroke his hair out of his eyes but he flicked his head away and she let her hand fall.
‘You eat and drink the food off the table same as I do, it wouldn’t hurt you to work to put it there,’ Harry snarled, kicking one of the crates of tea.
‘Watch your boot, Harry!’ Ma snapped. ‘Those chests are like glass. You bust them and there’ll be leaves all over the floor and no profit to take.’
Charlie grinned at Harry. ‘I have been working,’ he said, stooping down and picking up the bottle of brandy beside his mother.
Harry gave a hard laugh. ‘Work! You don’t know the fecking meaning of the word,’ he said, stomping across the floor to where they sat.
‘And you don’t know the meaning of most words,’ Charlie replied, taking a large swig from the bottle.
Harry grabbed his brother by the lapels and dragged him to his feet. ‘Why, you little bastard, you—’
Charlie shoved back and Harry crashed into the tea chest. The side split and a stream of brown tea leaves poured out.
Ma heaved herself up from the chair and lumbered between them. ‘That’s enough.’ She smacked the back of her hand across Harry’s arm. ‘I told you to mind the crate.’
Harry pointed over her head at his brother. ‘You heard ’im insult me. And where has he been all night while I’ve been busting my balls?’
Charlie snorted. ‘I’ve been working all right, it’s just that I can do it with me head.’
Harry lunged at him again but Ma stood in his way.
‘Charlie!’ she snapped. He grinned at her. ‘Stop riling your brother.’
She turned to the bench and her eyes fell on the spilled tea. ‘Oi! Scotch.’ The man heading into the tunnel with a barrel on his back stopped. ‘Go up to China Rose and tell her to send any of her doxies without a man down here and set them to packing that tea.’
Scotch lowered the barrel to the floor and stomped up the stairs. The treads squeaked and groaned again. He returned a few minutes later with four young women, dressed in gaudy evening gowns, trailing behind him.
Harry knew them all by sight but could never remember their names. They all looked much alike to him, with their scraped-up hair and bright patches of rouge on their cheeks. The clothes didn’t help either - they rented their gowns by the day so whoever stumbled out of bed first had the pick.
Charlie tossed the empty bottle away and it skidded across the floor and hit one of the girls on the ankle. She winced.
‘Did you find out who she is?’ Ma asked.
‘Who?’ Harry asked.
A smirk spread
Harry rolled the barrel off his shoulder to join the other four by the stairs. Ma watched, but her gaze ran over him without any obvious pleasure and he wondered again what more he could do to please the old cow.
‘What took you so long?’ she barked, but before Harry could decide on a suitable reply, the door at the top of the stairs opened. Charlie Tugman sauntered in, wearing a dress suit complete with a threadbare top hat. As it couldn’t have been more than seven in the morning, he looked quite ridiculous.
Ma’s eyes darted upward to where her youngest son stood and a look of pure adoration spread across her face, giving it an oddly innocent appearance.
Harry’s shoulders sagged with despondency. He knew the only thing he could do to please the old harpy: be Charlie.
His brother stomped heavily down the stairs, the treads creaking and cracking beneath his weight. He yawned when he reached the bottom, and took off his tall hat. He scratched his head, setting his oiled hair askew.
The men carrying the crates of sugar and stacks of tobacco back into the inner recess of the cavern acknowledged him and continued with their task.
‘Nice of you to join us,’ Harry said, glaring at his brother.
Charlie threw himself on the chair beside Ma. She reached out to stroke his hair out of his eyes but he flicked his head away and she let her hand fall.
‘You eat and drink the food off the table same as I do, it wouldn’t hurt you to work to put it there,’ Harry snarled, kicking one of the crates of tea.
‘Watch your boot, Harry!’ Ma snapped. ‘Those chests are like glass. You bust them and there’ll be leaves all over the floor and no profit to take.’
Charlie grinned at Harry. ‘I have been working,’ he said, stooping down and picking up the bottle of brandy beside his mother.
Harry gave a hard laugh. ‘Work! You don’t know the fecking meaning of the word,’ he said, stomping across the floor to where they sat.
‘And you don’t know the meaning of most words,’ Charlie replied, taking a large swig from the bottle.
Harry grabbed his brother by the lapels and dragged him to his feet. ‘Why, you little bastard, you—’
Charlie shoved back and Harry crashed into the tea chest. The side split and a stream of brown tea leaves poured out.
Ma heaved herself up from the chair and lumbered between them. ‘That’s enough.’ She smacked the back of her hand across Harry’s arm. ‘I told you to mind the crate.’
Harry pointed over her head at his brother. ‘You heard ’im insult me. And where has he been all night while I’ve been busting my balls?’
Charlie snorted. ‘I’ve been working all right, it’s just that I can do it with me head.’
Harry lunged at him again but Ma stood in his way.
‘Charlie!’ she snapped. He grinned at her. ‘Stop riling your brother.’
She turned to the bench and her eyes fell on the spilled tea. ‘Oi! Scotch.’ The man heading into the tunnel with a barrel on his back stopped. ‘Go up to China Rose and tell her to send any of her doxies without a man down here and set them to packing that tea.’
Scotch lowered the barrel to the floor and stomped up the stairs. The treads squeaked and groaned again. He returned a few minutes later with four young women, dressed in gaudy evening gowns, trailing behind him.
Harry knew them all by sight but could never remember their names. They all looked much alike to him, with their scraped-up hair and bright patches of rouge on their cheeks. The clothes didn’t help either - they rented their gowns by the day so whoever stumbled out of bed first had the pick.
Charlie tossed the empty bottle away and it skidded across the floor and hit one of the girls on the ankle. She winced.
‘Did you find out who she is?’ Ma asked.
‘Who?’ Harry asked.
A smirk spread
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