Read Online Paradise Lane by Ruth Hamilton - Free Book Online

frontage that belied the squalor inside. In the junior department, the classrooms were positioned round a hall with a wooden floor that had donated many an unwanted splinter. Windows were high, beyond the reach of most children, so the only view was a patch of sky or, occasionally, a glimpse of sun.
    After assembly, Standard Four filed out, its members subdued not only by a tyrannical headmaster, but also by the knowledge that the ‘cock’ of their class had been flattened by a thin girl from Standard One. Red Trubshaw caught Sally’s eye on his way out, winked at her. She tried not to shiver in her new black shoes. That flickering eyelid had meant wait till playtime . The thought of playtime terrified her, not because of the usual isolation, but because she knew that she had no more than two hours to live.
    The situation was not improved by the fact that Miss Irene Lever pounced on Sally as soon as she entered the classroom. ‘Don’t you look nice?’ beamed the kind lady. ‘I’m so glad to see that your mother has managed to get some lovely school clothes for you.’
    A hand shot into the air. ‘Miss?’
    ‘Yes, Jean?’
    Jean stood up. Jean Irving lived on Worthington Street. Jean Irving was one of those people who seem to know everything. ‘Miss, her mam’s not there. She ran off, miss, to America, miss. And all the other women went to see her off, miss. They bashed her and turned her upside down, miss and took all her money and threw tomatoes at her, miss and—’
    ‘Thank you, Jean.’ Miss Lever patted Sally’s hand, asked her to take her place.
    Sally glared at Jean Irving. A terrible coldness seemed to enter her bones as she looked at the grinning girl. ‘Jean Irving is telling lies, Miss Lever,’ said Sally clearly.
    Nonplussed, Miss Lever pushed the spectacles along the bridge of her nose and closed her mouth with a snap. Never before had she known Sally Crumpsall to speak without being spoken to. The teacher was so shocked that she had to sit down rather quickly. ‘Sally, I—’
    ‘Miss, I know all about Jean Irving, so does my granny. She’s always telling lies. All the Irvings tell lies.’ The iciness was melting, as if speaking up warmed her, made her comfortable.
    ‘Sit down, Sally.’
    Sally walked towards her desk. ‘And you can shut your mouth,’ she told Jean Irving, her tone conversational. ‘Because all of Paradise knows about your mother and the gin.’
    Jean Irving clenched fists and teeth. ‘I’ll get you at playtime,’ she mumbled.
    Sally sank into her seat. It was plain that there was going to be a queue in the yard later on. The thought of Red Trubshaw took away all the false courage, made her shake so much that she could hardly manage to hold her pencil.
    Irene Lever watched her charges closely that morning. She was a good and fair woman, the exception that proved the rule in Craddock Street. Miss Lever wielded no cane, slapped no legs. She sensed that trouble was brewing, because never before had she known little Sally Crumpsall to be cheeky. When the register was marked, Standard One’s mentor made a vow to keep her eyes open at playtime. Unless she was mistaken, there was going to be a showdown.
    Hiding in the toilets was no fun, because the toilets stank. Girls’ toilets weren’t as bad as boys’, but they were foul enough to make any sitting tenant vacate her place as quickly as possible. Sally had often wondered why the smell from the lads’ lavatories was so strong that it spread its tentacles across several corridors but, for the moment, her chief concern was to stay in one piece.
    Jean Irving’s face appeared in the gap at the bottom of the door. ‘Scared of me, are you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Then why are you stood there like a lamp post?’
    Sally decided not to answer such a stupid question. ‘Why are you lying on a floor that smells?’
    Jean Irving snorted. ‘You should know all about smells, Sally Crumpsall. Nobody ever wanted to sit next to you ’cos