Read Online Spilt Milk by Amanda Hodgkinson - Free Book Online Page A

shoulders.Her black coat reached to her ankles, her bosom was lifted high, her waist small and waspish.
    ‘Your mouth is the colour of raspberry jam,’ said Nellie.
    ‘She’s dead drunk. Leave her. She’ll be all right.’
    ‘Eddie, have a heart. You got her in this state. You can’t just leave her.’
    Nellie felt Eddie and the woman lift her up. They walked her down the street. She tripped up a step and went through a door. Then they lay her down on a bed. It was hard and lumpy, but she was tired and she closed her eyes with relief.
    When she woke the next morning, she was on a threadbare settee with a coat over her. She lay there, unsure of what to do. Just as she thought she should get up and leave, the woman from the night before came in wearing a pale pink dressing gown, her hair loose in waves around her shoulders. She handed Nellie a cup of tea.
    ‘I’m Jane. Eddie’s wife. Don’t look so frightened, dear.’
    It was on and off between her and Eddie, she explained. She wanted to know how long Nellie had known him.
    ‘I gave the monkey a shilling last week. Then I saw them again yesterday.’
    ‘That’s what Eddie says. You’re not his type anyway. He tells me you’re down on your luck. Is that the truth of it?’
    Nellie’s head ached and she felt sick. She told her everything. She was aware as she talked that her openness was not expected. Had she said too much? Rose always said other people should never know your business.
    ‘So you’re quite alone?’
    Nellie nodded. She could not go home. She needed a job. A room and a job. She was a hard worker.
    ‘I’ve got a friend who might help you. Her brother’s looking for a woman to work for him. You get yourself ready.’
    Jane gave Nellie a jug of water and a bowl to wash in. When she was ready, she took her to a café to meet a friend called Trixie.Then she left her, telling her in future to stay away from other women’s husbands.
    ‘You been causing trouble?’ asked Trixie. ‘You a husband stealer?’
    ‘Never,’ said Nellie, affronted by the accusation. She looked at the woman’s lined face. She had the feeling Jane had left her here to get rid of her and that there was no job.
    ‘On your own, are you? Me too. I lost my husband ten years ago, sorry little widow that I am.’
    Nellie said she felt she had lost enough to qualify as a kind of widow too.
    Trixie knew what it was like to fall on hard times. Her husband had died owing money, and she’d lost her home and was living with her old mother and working as a draper’s assistant.
    She pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. ‘I’ve been ruined by marriage. He took my best years, and all the time he was spending every penny we had. The best I can do is try again. Get married, I mean. Good or bad, every woman needs a husband. I’ve found myself a better candidate this time. A very good man.’ She smiled, and nudged Nellie in the ribs. ‘He’s dependable, sensible, and as boring as a closed-up pub on a Sunday.’
    He was a draper whose wife had died a year ago, and she felt he was ready to marry her. The trouble was he didn’t want to move in with Trixie and her mother, and Trixie didn’t want to move into the flat above his shop.
    ‘Her spirit’s there. His dead wife. I feel like I’m going to suffocate in her curtains and soft furnishings. I’m trying to persuade him to sell the flat and get a new house. There are some lovely new villas out on the London Road. Gardens front and back.’
    It rained all morning and the two women sat slowly sipping their tea in the café, next to the window, watching the umbrellas of hurrying passers-by.
    ‘Well,’ said Trixie when the rain stopped and the waitress had asked if they were going to buy another pot of tea. ‘We can’t sit here all day. We should go and see about this job for you.’
    The sun shone a dirty yellow through grey clouds. Everything – windows, shopfronts, trees, hat brims – dripped water. Nellie’s suitcase was