Read Online Disappearing Home by Deborah Morgan - Free Book Online Page B

about Granddad Jack.’
    Nan rubs her leg, scrunches her face up with the pain.
    â€˜Jack couldn’t sleep the night before a fight. He’d walk from Crosby to Liverpool town centre and back again. That’s what he was doing the night I met him. He said walking helped to clear his head.
    â€˜Jack’s passion was boxing. His father, Mick, trained him in a barn during the night while Rosie was asleep. They had to train in secret because Rosie didn’t want Jack to fight. She’d lost her brother, John. He died after being in the ring. The referee didn’t stop the fight in time. Rosie was there. She saw everything and she never got over it.
    â€˜One night, Rosie followed them to the barn and saw them both with their gloves on. She was furious; went at Mick with a pitchfork. Jack said she wouldn’t speak to either of them for months. When he saw how much he’d upset his mam, Jack made her a promise he’d pack in boxing.’
    â€˜For ever?’
    â€˜For ever.’
    â€˜That’s so sad.’
    â€˜Jack was never the same man once he gave up his passion. At first, he told me his promise to Rosie was more like an interruption to his career. He said give it a year or so, Rosie will come around. But that’s not how things worked out. I lost three boys before I had your mam; I couldn’t carry them. When she was born she only weighed two pounds. We didn’t think she’d survive. Jack spoiled her rotten. Took her everywhere, gave her anything she wanted.People said she was spoiled. And she was. I had murder with Jack over it; your mum ended up a spoilt madam. And maybe she got what she deserved with that lazy good-for-nothing.’
    When we get off the bus on Scotland Road, I ask Nan if I can come back to her flat. I think about her two-seater settee, me fast asleep on it, my legs dangling over the side.
    â€˜It’s getting late, Robyn. Off home now before it gets dark. Come down and see me whenever you like. Wear your coat next time.’ Nan starts to walk away.
    â€˜Just for half an hour?’
    She stops. ‘Is everything all right?’
    â€˜Yes.’ I panic. ‘It is late. I’ll come down next Saturday.’
    â€˜Something on your mind?’
    I shake my head, turn away and start to run home. ‘Nah, see you Saturday.’
    â€˜C’mon now, don’t make me wring it out of you.’
    â€˜It’s nothing, honest. See you Saturday.’
    In bed, covering myself up, I think about my nan with her lovely new flat. I think about having a place I can go and visit whenever I like. A place I can go and not have to think about stuff.
    Nan still thinks I’m the old Robyn, the Robyn who tries her very best to be good. If she finds out what I’m really like now, she’ll probably tell me to stay away. If I talk about stuff to Nan, I know it will spoil everything. Talking about stuff, like my stealing, would be the same as pegging out dirty nappies beside clean white towels.
    O
n the morning of my birthday, Mum said my present hadn’t arrived. She said I’d have to wait until Monday. After school, I race home and find a Raleigh Chopper in the hall. It is bright yellow,with a black L-shaped seat that smells like sunshine. The handle bars are high, with yellow and red tassels at the edge. Dad says he’ll carry it downstairs for me into the square. I’m so excited I take the stairs three at a time.
    Once I’m on it a group of kids surrounds me. One of them pats the back bit of seat behind me. ‘Giz a takey?’ she says.
    I look up to the second landing where Dad and Mum watch.
    â€˜Can’t, I’m not allowed.’
    The kid looks up too and backs away.
    I ride off into the big square. The bike doesn’t feel like it’s mine. I try to ride it the way I’ve seen the other kids ride. I get off and walk it around in a circle. Push it straight, faster and faster, jumping on bum-first