and I don’t want her hurt.’
‘Sally, I’ve been at work all day and the last thing I want is to stand outside. It’s always the same around here on fireworks night and last year a little bugger tied a jumping jack to a cat’s tail. The poor thing was terrified and it bolted down the lane with it going off behind him every few seconds.’
‘That was cruel,’ Sally said, wondering yet again where Arthur was. She leaned down to kiss her daughter. ‘I’ve got to go, darling. Be a good girl for Nanny.’
Sally hurried down the lane, her brow furrowed. After that wonderful night when Angela had slept over at Elsie’s Arthur had soon become distant and distracted. Most evenings he still came home late and sometimes she could smell alcohol on his breath. When asked he just said he’d popped into a pub for a drink, but he failed to meet her eyes and Sally was sure he was hiding something. Was Arthur having an affair?
The hall was almost empty, with only one healer working on a client when Sally walked in. Perhaps the smoke and fireworks had kept those needing healing indoors, Sally thought.
By nine o’clock she’d only had one client, and, still worried about Arthur, Sally asked the other healers if they’d mind if she left early. The smoke was dense as she turned into Candle Lane and Sally coughed before tugging her scarf over her mouth. A fire engine drove past, heading away from the lane, but why had it been there in the first place?
Sally’s pace quickened, the pavement wet under her feet now and as she hurried into the kitchen it was to find her mother cuddling a small, sobbing form. ‘What’s the matter with Angel?’ she cried.
The small form unwound itself and Sally saw that it wasn’t her daughter. It was Tommy Walters, the boy’s face streaked with dirt and his eyes red. ‘Tommy burned his hand and as his mother wasn’t in a fit state to look after him, I fetched him in here to have a look at it,’ Ruth said. ‘It isn’t too bad but it’s giving him a bit of gyp.’
‘How did he burn his hand?’
‘The silly sod lit a bonfire in his backyard, but the flames were bigger than he anticipated. Blimey, Sal, you’ve missed all the excitement. Luckily for Tommy, Mrs Stone saw the blaze over her back wall and she called the fire brigade.’
‘But where were Tommy’s parents? Didn’t they see the fire?’
‘His dad wasn’t in, and his mum was in her front room with no idea what was going on,’ Ruth said, throwing a look at Tommy before mouthing silently, ‘Drunk.’
The boy was too astute. ‘Yeah, me mum was pissed.’
‘That isn’t a nice word,’ Ruth told him, unable to hide a smile of amusement. ‘Sally, it’s just as well your gran’s in her room or I’d be getting it in both ears.’
‘Is Arthur upstairs?’
‘No, he didn’t turn up. Angel was disappointed and it was a right old job to get her off to bed.’
‘Is she asleep?’
‘I haven’t heard a peep out of her, so yes, I should think so.’
‘I’ll go and check,’ Sally said, turning to hurry upstairs. There was no sign of Angel when she walked into the bedroom, both the double and single beds empty. ‘Angela, where are you?’
There was a muffled cry and then the wardrobe door flew open. Her daughter came tumbling out and buried herself in Sally’s arms. ‘Mummy, Mummy, there was a fire and Tommy got burned!’
‘I know, but it’s only a small burn on his hand and he’s fine now.’
‘No, Mummy! I saw his bonfire from the window and it got really big. Tommy was on top of it and . . . and he fell in,’ Angela sobbed.
‘Of course he didn’t.’
‘He did! He got all burned up,’ she insisted, her voice verging on hysteria.
‘Come on, darling. Come with me,’ Sally said, disengaging her daughter’s arms to take her hand.
They went downstairs, Angel’s eyes rounding with surprise when she saw Tommy sitting on the sofa. ‘I . . . I thought you fell in the fire.’
‘Of course I
‘Sally, I’ve been at work all day and the last thing I want is to stand outside. It’s always the same around here on fireworks night and last year a little bugger tied a jumping jack to a cat’s tail. The poor thing was terrified and it bolted down the lane with it going off behind him every few seconds.’
‘That was cruel,’ Sally said, wondering yet again where Arthur was. She leaned down to kiss her daughter. ‘I’ve got to go, darling. Be a good girl for Nanny.’
Sally hurried down the lane, her brow furrowed. After that wonderful night when Angela had slept over at Elsie’s Arthur had soon become distant and distracted. Most evenings he still came home late and sometimes she could smell alcohol on his breath. When asked he just said he’d popped into a pub for a drink, but he failed to meet her eyes and Sally was sure he was hiding something. Was Arthur having an affair?
The hall was almost empty, with only one healer working on a client when Sally walked in. Perhaps the smoke and fireworks had kept those needing healing indoors, Sally thought.
By nine o’clock she’d only had one client, and, still worried about Arthur, Sally asked the other healers if they’d mind if she left early. The smoke was dense as she turned into Candle Lane and Sally coughed before tugging her scarf over her mouth. A fire engine drove past, heading away from the lane, but why had it been there in the first place?
Sally’s pace quickened, the pavement wet under her feet now and as she hurried into the kitchen it was to find her mother cuddling a small, sobbing form. ‘What’s the matter with Angel?’ she cried.
The small form unwound itself and Sally saw that it wasn’t her daughter. It was Tommy Walters, the boy’s face streaked with dirt and his eyes red. ‘Tommy burned his hand and as his mother wasn’t in a fit state to look after him, I fetched him in here to have a look at it,’ Ruth said. ‘It isn’t too bad but it’s giving him a bit of gyp.’
‘How did he burn his hand?’
‘The silly sod lit a bonfire in his backyard, but the flames were bigger than he anticipated. Blimey, Sal, you’ve missed all the excitement. Luckily for Tommy, Mrs Stone saw the blaze over her back wall and she called the fire brigade.’
‘But where were Tommy’s parents? Didn’t they see the fire?’
‘His dad wasn’t in, and his mum was in her front room with no idea what was going on,’ Ruth said, throwing a look at Tommy before mouthing silently, ‘Drunk.’
The boy was too astute. ‘Yeah, me mum was pissed.’
‘That isn’t a nice word,’ Ruth told him, unable to hide a smile of amusement. ‘Sally, it’s just as well your gran’s in her room or I’d be getting it in both ears.’
‘Is Arthur upstairs?’
‘No, he didn’t turn up. Angel was disappointed and it was a right old job to get her off to bed.’
‘Is she asleep?’
‘I haven’t heard a peep out of her, so yes, I should think so.’
‘I’ll go and check,’ Sally said, turning to hurry upstairs. There was no sign of Angel when she walked into the bedroom, both the double and single beds empty. ‘Angela, where are you?’
There was a muffled cry and then the wardrobe door flew open. Her daughter came tumbling out and buried herself in Sally’s arms. ‘Mummy, Mummy, there was a fire and Tommy got burned!’
‘I know, but it’s only a small burn on his hand and he’s fine now.’
‘No, Mummy! I saw his bonfire from the window and it got really big. Tommy was on top of it and . . . and he fell in,’ Angela sobbed.
‘Of course he didn’t.’
‘He did! He got all burned up,’ she insisted, her voice verging on hysteria.
‘Come on, darling. Come with me,’ Sally said, disengaging her daughter’s arms to take her hand.
They went downstairs, Angel’s eyes rounding with surprise when she saw Tommy sitting on the sofa. ‘I . . . I thought you fell in the fire.’
‘Of course I
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