Read Online Gretel and the Dark by Eliza Granville - Free Book Online

between Benjamin’s legs and attempted to snatch the remains of the bread. It was rewarded with a clout that sent it skidding a man’s length along the floor. The boy dipped the retrieved crust in Benjamin’s full tankard before devouring it, and then dropped to the hearth,showing his bared teeth to the vigilant dog. Hugo regarded Benjamin, who’d pushed away the contaminated tankard, with incredulity. ‘Drink up.’
    ‘Thanks.’ Benjamin surreptitiously pulled a different vessel towards him and took a long swallow of beer. Every muscle responded to this unaccustomed pleasure. In an instant, all the tension generated by his never-ending struggle against the plague of rats and caterpillars invading the garden, Gudrun’s haranguing, his discomfort at coming back to the area his family had struggled so hard and for so long to leave, drained away. Bliss. ‘Ah.’
    ‘Panacea,’ said Hugo, reaching for a second dose. He peered between the heavy tankards, searching the table’s battered surface with its ancient scars and carved graffiti into which spilled dregs gathered in puddles, then frowned and directed a ferocious scowl at the dozing chimney-corner elf. Three extravagantly clad girls walked past, examining the two men closely. After a few yards they turned in a flurry of high-pitched giggles and sauntered slowly back again, plumping up their chests and lingering by the side of the settle.
    ‘Women,’ observed Benjamin in an attempt to guide the conversation to the desired area.
    ‘Well spotted,’ sniggered Hugo, throwing back his head to drain his second tankard. He made an abrupt dismissive gesture with one hand. The girls scowled, tossed their heads and moved on. One turned to spit contempt over her shoulder, her gaze pointedly moving from Hugo to the small boy.
    ‘
Schwuel!
’
    Hugo shrugged. ‘
Kneipenschlampe!
’ To Benjamin, he said: ‘Tavern sluts. Whores. They pay a hefty percentage of their earnings to the landlord.’
    Benjamin scrutinized the three departing rears. ‘They don’t look like local girls.’
    ‘Czechs, probably, but since women everywhere are born more or less equal in terms of the attributes demanded by their profession, why would they need to be local? We have twelve nationalities or more crowding into this cesspit end of the city, a veritable Babylon of peoples – Hungarians, Turks, Galicians, Moravians, Bohemians, Bukovinians …’ He started ticking them off on his fingers, then abandoned the effort in favour of seizing a fresh tankard. ‘And there’s no accommodation for them.’ Hugo raised his voice. ‘Decent basic housing, that’s what our illustrious Franz Joseph should force the city to spend its money on, not this Secession rubbish. Buildings with owls on … I ask you. And that Majolika Haus covered with flowers and twirly bits. Very nice, I dare say, but who among us can afford an apartment there? Meanwhile, homeless people will freeze to death on the streets this winter.’ He leaned forward. ‘It’s a scandal. If you ask me, the wrong bloody aristocrat shot his few brains out at Mayerling.’
    ‘Oh.’ Benjamin stared at him, appalled, before glancing quickly at the neighbouring tables to see if anyone reacted to this slur on the monarchy. A blond young man on the other side of the fire sat smoothing his chin as he read a book. The dark-haired one sitting a few feet away seemed to be looking straight at them, but a second guilty glance revealed he was dramatically wall-eyed and could be looking anywhere. The noise level was steadily increasing. With any luck, no one had heard. Benjamin tried to relax.
    ‘Heading for trouble,’ opined Hugo. ‘Dazzling riches flaunted cheek by jowl with the most loathsome poverty. It can’t go on.’
    ‘No,’ agreed Benjamin, still ignoring the invitation to get political. ‘As you say, those girls could be anyone, from just about anywhere.’ He paused. ‘They might have run away from home. Or been kidnapped. Lost