you’re here now, we’d be much obliged if you would take over, so as me and me mate can return to our own homes before dawn breaks.’
‘Right. Thanks very much, Mr Rathbone,’ Aunt Myrtle said. ‘If you’ll just bring him through to the parlour – me niece sleeps in here – I’ll clean ’im up and see he don’t come to no harm.’
The men agreed to this, and presently Dot heard first the parlour door and then the front door slam, and knew that the two men had left and that Uncle Rupert would remain in the parlour until morning. Quick as a flash, she jumped off the sofa and ran to the window. With the utmost caution, she eased back the curtain a tiny way and applied her eye to the crack, but she soon realised she might as well not have bothered. There was only one street lamp in the court and that was at the far end, by the privy. To be sure, there was a sliver of moon high in the dark sky, but all it showed was two figures making their way across the cobbles towards Heyworth Street.
Dot closed the door and was about to return to the kitchen when her aunt came out of the parlour. She was looking furious. ‘Trust your bleedin’ uncle to go puttin’ me under an obligation to the meanest, most expensive butcher on Heyworth Street,’ she said crossly. ‘All that mumblin’ about me best pal . . . and then Mr Rathbone sayin’ no doubt he’d be seein’ me quite soon when I were after some nice chops, or a bit o’ shin for some stew. Still, perhaps now he’s gorrin wi’ Rupert, he’ll put in a few bones for soup, or a nice bit of offal . . . for free like, I mean.’ They had reached the kitchen now, and she looked down at the puddle on the floor with deep distaste. ‘Put the kettle over the fire, chuck, an’ when it boils you can pour it into a bucket, add some bleach and mop this mess up in a trice. I’m goin’ back to bed.’ She grinned, suddenly, at her niece. ‘Wharra good job you wasn’t asleep after all. I bet you gorra scare when they said they was goin’ to drop ’im on the sofa on top of you. What did you mean to do? Lie doggo until they’d left, or set up a squall to make ’em think the sofa cushions had come alive?’
‘I dunno,’ Dot said wearily, fetching the bucket and beginning to pour hot water into it. ‘I hadn’t made up me mind, like. To tell the truth, I were sound asleep when they come in and I was still wonderin’ what were goin’ on when I heard your voice. I were relieved, I can tell you.’ Her aunt chuckled and stood watching as Dot poured the strong bleach into the bucket, then fetched the mop and stirred it vigorously. When she began to mop, Aunt Myrtle turned as if to leave the room, but Dot stopped her and bent an innocent, enquiring gaze on the older woman. ‘I know Mr Rathbone, a’course, though we hardly ever gerrour messages from him ’cos he don’t like kids, but who were the other one? It weren’t Mr Wright, what lives further along the court, and it weren’t me uncle’s other drinkin’ pal Mr Ellis either; I knows their voices and I’m sure it weren’t either of them.’
‘I dunno meself,’ her aunt said, heading for the parlour door. ‘Old Rathbone don’t usually drink at the Elephant; he’s a feller with a deal more money than our Rupert. I guess he an’ his pal are from t’other end of the street and don’t come this way much.’
‘I see. Don’t go for a moment, Aunt Myrtle. I – I don’t want Uncle Rupe comin’ in once I’ve turned the lamp out; can you take him his water through, do you think?’
‘Well, I will say this for you, Dot McCann, you’ve got your wits about you,’ her aunt said, almost approvingly, coming back into the room to pick up the almost full tin mug. ‘I’ll put it near the head of the sofa, then he can’t fail to see it when he wakes up. I never drew the parlour curtains across an’ it gets light early at this time o’ year, so he won’t come blunderin’ in to disturb you again.’
Dot
‘Right. Thanks very much, Mr Rathbone,’ Aunt Myrtle said. ‘If you’ll just bring him through to the parlour – me niece sleeps in here – I’ll clean ’im up and see he don’t come to no harm.’
The men agreed to this, and presently Dot heard first the parlour door and then the front door slam, and knew that the two men had left and that Uncle Rupert would remain in the parlour until morning. Quick as a flash, she jumped off the sofa and ran to the window. With the utmost caution, she eased back the curtain a tiny way and applied her eye to the crack, but she soon realised she might as well not have bothered. There was only one street lamp in the court and that was at the far end, by the privy. To be sure, there was a sliver of moon high in the dark sky, but all it showed was two figures making their way across the cobbles towards Heyworth Street.
Dot closed the door and was about to return to the kitchen when her aunt came out of the parlour. She was looking furious. ‘Trust your bleedin’ uncle to go puttin’ me under an obligation to the meanest, most expensive butcher on Heyworth Street,’ she said crossly. ‘All that mumblin’ about me best pal . . . and then Mr Rathbone sayin’ no doubt he’d be seein’ me quite soon when I were after some nice chops, or a bit o’ shin for some stew. Still, perhaps now he’s gorrin wi’ Rupert, he’ll put in a few bones for soup, or a nice bit of offal . . . for free like, I mean.’ They had reached the kitchen now, and she looked down at the puddle on the floor with deep distaste. ‘Put the kettle over the fire, chuck, an’ when it boils you can pour it into a bucket, add some bleach and mop this mess up in a trice. I’m goin’ back to bed.’ She grinned, suddenly, at her niece. ‘Wharra good job you wasn’t asleep after all. I bet you gorra scare when they said they was goin’ to drop ’im on the sofa on top of you. What did you mean to do? Lie doggo until they’d left, or set up a squall to make ’em think the sofa cushions had come alive?’
‘I dunno,’ Dot said wearily, fetching the bucket and beginning to pour hot water into it. ‘I hadn’t made up me mind, like. To tell the truth, I were sound asleep when they come in and I was still wonderin’ what were goin’ on when I heard your voice. I were relieved, I can tell you.’ Her aunt chuckled and stood watching as Dot poured the strong bleach into the bucket, then fetched the mop and stirred it vigorously. When she began to mop, Aunt Myrtle turned as if to leave the room, but Dot stopped her and bent an innocent, enquiring gaze on the older woman. ‘I know Mr Rathbone, a’course, though we hardly ever gerrour messages from him ’cos he don’t like kids, but who were the other one? It weren’t Mr Wright, what lives further along the court, and it weren’t me uncle’s other drinkin’ pal Mr Ellis either; I knows their voices and I’m sure it weren’t either of them.’
‘I dunno meself,’ her aunt said, heading for the parlour door. ‘Old Rathbone don’t usually drink at the Elephant; he’s a feller with a deal more money than our Rupert. I guess he an’ his pal are from t’other end of the street and don’t come this way much.’
‘I see. Don’t go for a moment, Aunt Myrtle. I – I don’t want Uncle Rupe comin’ in once I’ve turned the lamp out; can you take him his water through, do you think?’
‘Well, I will say this for you, Dot McCann, you’ve got your wits about you,’ her aunt said, almost approvingly, coming back into the room to pick up the almost full tin mug. ‘I’ll put it near the head of the sofa, then he can’t fail to see it when he wakes up. I never drew the parlour curtains across an’ it gets light early at this time o’ year, so he won’t come blunderin’ in to disturb you again.’
Dot
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