Read Online The River Flows On by Maggie Craig - Free Book Online Page B

Island with Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver - you know?’
    Her fingers tightened on the rough cloth of his jacket. ‘But you can do it. It’s within your grasp, once you’ve served your time. Promise me that you’ll do it.’
    ‘I don’t know, Kate.’ His eyes were downcast again, the lashes as dark as his hair long and feathery against his cheekbones.
    ‘Och, Robbie, what is there to keep you here? A lifetime of looking for work and then being laid off again. What is there to keep you here?’
    He looked her full in the face.
    ‘You, of all people, should know what would keep me here. Who would keep me here.’
    Kate let her hand drop from his arm. She took a step backwards. He held her gaze, challenging, daring her to drop her eyes too.
    ‘Och, Robbie, don’t! You and me... No ... that’s not meant to be. I’ve told you how I feel. I thought that was all sorted out. I don’t want you hanging on waiting for me...’
    She put out a hand, warding him off, reading quite clearly his intention of taking her in his arms. ‘Robbie, don’t! I don’t want it!’ Her voice was high and breathless.
    He hesitated, his face full of warring emotions. Then he smiled, a wry twist of the lips.
    ‘Pick my moments, don’t I, Kate? And always the wrong ones. Mr Bad Timing, that’s me. Come on, let’s go for that ice cream.’
    Kate tried one last time. ‘Robbie, do you ever listen to me? Did you hear what I just said?’
    He took a decisive step towards her, gripped her by the shoulders and planted a swift kiss on her forehead.
    ‘I heard you,’he said.

Chapter 5
    ‘So what exactly does a tracer do?’
    ‘Traces things.’
    Arthur Crawford smiled at the clear-eyed girl in front of him. Good. That had raised a wee smile. He sighed inwardly. The lassie didn’t have her troubles to seek, he knew that. Her teacher, Frances Noble, was his wife’s sister, and he’d heard the story more than once. Clever enough to stay on at school, good enough to go to art college, but no money to allow her to do it. Well, she wasn’t the only one, not by a long chalk. He couldn’t give them all a start, but Frances had put in a good word for this girl.
    He surveyed Kate where she sat on the opposite side of the desk from him. Her clothes were threadbare, but her skirt was pressed and the creamy-coloured blouse with the big collar which she wore had been freshly washed and starched. And the lassie was clever. She’d got top marks in the exam she’d sat, along with fifty other girls, last week. So far, so good. A good tracer didn’t necessarily need to be artistic, but she did have to be neat and lively minded.
    Like John Brown’s, the next yard along the river, Donaldson’s set an entrance examination every year for girls hoping to be taken on for a tracing apprenticeship. Only ten new apprentices were taken on each year, so there was a great deal of competition for each position.
    Kate’s exam paper had been the best of all. Arthur Crawford told her so.
    ‘Och,’ she said, giving him a shy smile and trying not to dip her head in embarrassment at the compliment. ‘Well, I enjoyed doing it, really.’
    She had been surprised at how wide-ranging the questions had been: English and arithmetic; history; knowledge of the yards and the shipbuilding trade; general knowledge. She’d known that her answers had been good. I’d give me a job, she’d thought to herself, and then wondered if she’d tempted fate by being too cocky during the agonizing week’s wait for the results.
    ‘It was fine realizing that I knew those things - that all that information was in my head.’
    Arthur Crawford smiled. ‘I believe there would be a position for you here, Miss Cameron - if you’re interested in the work, that is.’
    Kate crossed her fingers, hidden out of sight at her side by the folds in her dark brown skirt. Interested in the work? No, not really, but what choice did she have?
    Tm very interested,’ she said firmly, ‘but do