Read Online The Colour of Milk by Nell Leyshon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nell Leyshon
Ads: Link
on the table.
thank you. have a seat.
i perched on the edge of the chair like a hen on the nesting box when she’s about to fly off.
i wanted to say thank you, he said.
for me running away?
no. for being so good with my wife. i know you’re not quite settled here but you are doing very well and i promise you will have times when you can go home to visit, but you work here now. you understand? mary?
i understand what you’re saying.
good. then you agree not to run away again?
i spose. i ain’t got no choice, have i?
i don’t think we need to put it like that. i think the best is if you settle down and get in to a routine. then you’ll get used to it and before you know it, you’ll be calling this home.
this is my book and i am writing it by my own hand.
it is the year of lord eighteen hundred and thirty one.
outside my window the sun is pale and the birds have fallen silent.
writing takes a long time. each word has to be lettered and spelled on to the page and when i am done i have to look at it again to see if i have chosen right.
and some days i have to stop for i have to think about what it is i have to say. and what it is i want to say. and why it is i am saying it.
and it takes longer for me to write about something that happened than it took for it to happen.
but i must write quick for i do not have much time.
the grass got long and it yellowed. shadows got longer. hedges filled with berries and apples swelled on trees.
and when i went out the air was different for it was fresh and new and after the sun went down i could feel some cold.
and in the morning and evening the mist layered and made the hills soft and the air thick.
and edna filled the kitchen with jars and pans and we were busy with the fruit and getting it in to the jars. and harry dug up all the beetroot and carrots and onions and brought it to the back door and we laid it down in sand boxes and put it in the cold store and then we put the apples in the dark. and he sacked up the potatoes and we made sure the bags was tied and the light could not get in.
there was a lot to do only all the time i was working i was thinking of them on the farm what with the harvest in the field and they would have the apples to pick and the pears and this was the time when every light hour was spent bringing it in cos if you didn’t then you would be stuck over the winter and the animals would starve and then the people would starve.
it was time to start on the jam and edna told me to go outside and to collect some more fruit from the cage at the top of the garden.
harry was by the fire outside and he was smoking his pipe. he watched me walk up towards him and i was carrying the big pan.
you look happy, i said.
he stared at me.
i said you look happy. must be to see me.
what d’you want?
i smiled. i’d like some damsons and some raspberries.
i’m smoking.
i know, i said. i can see.
then you’ll have to wait.
and so i stood there while he smoked and the smoke mixed with the smell of the bonfire and the autumn air. and i listened to the wood on the fire and the licking of the flames. and the damp leaves sent up thick smoke and i heard him sucking his pipe and the clacking of the end of it between his teeth.
and then he was done and he walked off to the box he had on the ground and he picked it up and poured the damsons in to my pan and when it was full he stopped and some damsons fell on to the grass and i picked them up.
you know what, i said.
what?
you only live once, i said. you’ll be dead soon and when you look back you’ll realize you had a miserable life and you didn’t need to.
and i thought he was gonna say summat but he never. he just stared at me and he sucked on his pipe and i turned upon my tail and walked back to the kitchen. and i took the damsons in and they had a sheen on them and the purple was near black like a bruise.
that evening i went in to see mrs and i sat by
thank you. have a seat.
i perched on the edge of the chair like a hen on the nesting box when she’s about to fly off.
i wanted to say thank you, he said.
for me running away?
no. for being so good with my wife. i know you’re not quite settled here but you are doing very well and i promise you will have times when you can go home to visit, but you work here now. you understand? mary?
i understand what you’re saying.
good. then you agree not to run away again?
i spose. i ain’t got no choice, have i?
i don’t think we need to put it like that. i think the best is if you settle down and get in to a routine. then you’ll get used to it and before you know it, you’ll be calling this home.
this is my book and i am writing it by my own hand.
it is the year of lord eighteen hundred and thirty one.
outside my window the sun is pale and the birds have fallen silent.
writing takes a long time. each word has to be lettered and spelled on to the page and when i am done i have to look at it again to see if i have chosen right.
and some days i have to stop for i have to think about what it is i have to say. and what it is i want to say. and why it is i am saying it.
and it takes longer for me to write about something that happened than it took for it to happen.
but i must write quick for i do not have much time.
the grass got long and it yellowed. shadows got longer. hedges filled with berries and apples swelled on trees.
and when i went out the air was different for it was fresh and new and after the sun went down i could feel some cold.
and in the morning and evening the mist layered and made the hills soft and the air thick.
and edna filled the kitchen with jars and pans and we were busy with the fruit and getting it in to the jars. and harry dug up all the beetroot and carrots and onions and brought it to the back door and we laid it down in sand boxes and put it in the cold store and then we put the apples in the dark. and he sacked up the potatoes and we made sure the bags was tied and the light could not get in.
there was a lot to do only all the time i was working i was thinking of them on the farm what with the harvest in the field and they would have the apples to pick and the pears and this was the time when every light hour was spent bringing it in cos if you didn’t then you would be stuck over the winter and the animals would starve and then the people would starve.
it was time to start on the jam and edna told me to go outside and to collect some more fruit from the cage at the top of the garden.
harry was by the fire outside and he was smoking his pipe. he watched me walk up towards him and i was carrying the big pan.
you look happy, i said.
he stared at me.
i said you look happy. must be to see me.
what d’you want?
i smiled. i’d like some damsons and some raspberries.
i’m smoking.
i know, i said. i can see.
then you’ll have to wait.
and so i stood there while he smoked and the smoke mixed with the smell of the bonfire and the autumn air. and i listened to the wood on the fire and the licking of the flames. and the damp leaves sent up thick smoke and i heard him sucking his pipe and the clacking of the end of it between his teeth.
and then he was done and he walked off to the box he had on the ground and he picked it up and poured the damsons in to my pan and when it was full he stopped and some damsons fell on to the grass and i picked them up.
you know what, i said.
what?
you only live once, i said. you’ll be dead soon and when you look back you’ll realize you had a miserable life and you didn’t need to.
and i thought he was gonna say summat but he never. he just stared at me and he sucked on his pipe and i turned upon my tail and walked back to the kitchen. and i took the damsons in and they had a sheen on them and the purple was near black like a bruise.
that evening i went in to see mrs and i sat by
Similar Books
