Read Online Between Friends by Audrey Howard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Audrey Howard
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landing stages to the busy, swaggering river. It was a bustling highway filled with a constant shouting and hooting and whistling and banging and the lovely dancing sight of eager craft as it swept in a silvered ribbon down to the sea which had brought the city it’s wealth.
But the three young people who idled along the length of Renshaw Street cared nothing at the moment for this. Today was Shrove Tuesday and they had been given an afternoon off! It was not often that they were able to get out together for Mrs Whitley could not spare all three at once, but it was nearly spring and the influx of emigrants which lasted all through the summer months had not yet begun in earnest.
The sun sparkled on her shining copper pans, the polished crockery and the gleaming floor tiles of her kitchen and acknowledging that Meg, bless her had put the sparkle there, that Martin and Tom had done all their chores and Cook was only making work for them to do, she shoo-ed them away, ordering them to ‘be off and be quick about it before I change me mind!’
They had needed no second bidding, stopping only to grab their caps and Meg’s straw boater and like the youngsters they still were despite their fine proportions, had kicked their heels to the corner of the square, their youthful, excited voices beseeching one another to decide on how they should solve the delightful problem of what to do with this precious, unexpected holiday! Should they take the ferry across the water to Wallesey and have a walk along the domed and glittering pier which delicately pierced the river? Or to New Brighton to climb it’s sky scraping, lattice work tower? Perhaps a stroll along the great stretch of the white sea promenade which threaded its way up the coast to Egremont? Would it be a brisk pace down the Marine Parade to see the splendid liners at berth, or Bold Street with it’s elegant shops selling rare fabrics from every corner of the world and where the wealthy and fashionable, the ladies, the carriages and fine horses which pulled them moved in superior respectability?
They looked at one another with shining eyes!
‘Well, go on then, make your minds up.’ Tom grinned amiably at the other two, carelessly willing as usual to do whatever they chose.
‘I don’t care as long as we go somewhere.’ Meg executed a little jig, enjoying the feel of her brand new alpaca skirt swishing importantly about her ankles. ‘Where do you want to go, Martin?’
‘Well …’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been wanting to …’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, you know I’ve been going to the bicycle shop for the last …’
‘Oh no!’ Meg whirled about, walking backwards in order to look into Martin’s face, completely forgetting her new, grown up state. She was thirteen now and quite the young lady, she believed, but at times her fledgling sophistication deserted her. ‘Not that place again. Not on a lovely day like this! Every time we have some time to spare all you want to do is go and look at the damn bicycles and talk to that old man. Not today, Martin, please. The sun’s shining and …’
‘Alright then, I’ll go alone … only there was … I wanted to show you something but if you’re not interested …’ Martin’s face became truculent but there was an expression in his eyes which made Tom put a warning hand on Meg’s arm. She tried to shake it off but he held on to her, still watching Martin’s face, his own guarded.
‘Shut up, our Meg, just for once. Was there something … special you wanted to see, Martin?’ he said carefully, but Meg turned away, flouncing along in front of them and Tom clicked his tongue impatiently.
‘Give over, Meg. If Martin wants to have a word or two with Mr Hale we can spare half an hour, surely and before that we go we can slip up and watch the fun at Lime Street. Go on! What d’you say?’
Meg turned again her face alive with excitement. ‘Oh can we, Tom?’ She looked at Martin. ‘Can we, Martin, can we? Just
But the three young people who idled along the length of Renshaw Street cared nothing at the moment for this. Today was Shrove Tuesday and they had been given an afternoon off! It was not often that they were able to get out together for Mrs Whitley could not spare all three at once, but it was nearly spring and the influx of emigrants which lasted all through the summer months had not yet begun in earnest.
The sun sparkled on her shining copper pans, the polished crockery and the gleaming floor tiles of her kitchen and acknowledging that Meg, bless her had put the sparkle there, that Martin and Tom had done all their chores and Cook was only making work for them to do, she shoo-ed them away, ordering them to ‘be off and be quick about it before I change me mind!’
They had needed no second bidding, stopping only to grab their caps and Meg’s straw boater and like the youngsters they still were despite their fine proportions, had kicked their heels to the corner of the square, their youthful, excited voices beseeching one another to decide on how they should solve the delightful problem of what to do with this precious, unexpected holiday! Should they take the ferry across the water to Wallesey and have a walk along the domed and glittering pier which delicately pierced the river? Or to New Brighton to climb it’s sky scraping, lattice work tower? Perhaps a stroll along the great stretch of the white sea promenade which threaded its way up the coast to Egremont? Would it be a brisk pace down the Marine Parade to see the splendid liners at berth, or Bold Street with it’s elegant shops selling rare fabrics from every corner of the world and where the wealthy and fashionable, the ladies, the carriages and fine horses which pulled them moved in superior respectability?
They looked at one another with shining eyes!
‘Well, go on then, make your minds up.’ Tom grinned amiably at the other two, carelessly willing as usual to do whatever they chose.
‘I don’t care as long as we go somewhere.’ Meg executed a little jig, enjoying the feel of her brand new alpaca skirt swishing importantly about her ankles. ‘Where do you want to go, Martin?’
‘Well …’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been wanting to …’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, you know I’ve been going to the bicycle shop for the last …’
‘Oh no!’ Meg whirled about, walking backwards in order to look into Martin’s face, completely forgetting her new, grown up state. She was thirteen now and quite the young lady, she believed, but at times her fledgling sophistication deserted her. ‘Not that place again. Not on a lovely day like this! Every time we have some time to spare all you want to do is go and look at the damn bicycles and talk to that old man. Not today, Martin, please. The sun’s shining and …’
‘Alright then, I’ll go alone … only there was … I wanted to show you something but if you’re not interested …’ Martin’s face became truculent but there was an expression in his eyes which made Tom put a warning hand on Meg’s arm. She tried to shake it off but he held on to her, still watching Martin’s face, his own guarded.
‘Shut up, our Meg, just for once. Was there something … special you wanted to see, Martin?’ he said carefully, but Meg turned away, flouncing along in front of them and Tom clicked his tongue impatiently.
‘Give over, Meg. If Martin wants to have a word or two with Mr Hale we can spare half an hour, surely and before that we go we can slip up and watch the fun at Lime Street. Go on! What d’you say?’
Meg turned again her face alive with excitement. ‘Oh can we, Tom?’ She looked at Martin. ‘Can we, Martin, can we? Just
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