Read Online Tilly True by Dilly Court - Free Book Online

Pocketing the money, Abel pointed his finger at Tilly, looking down his arm as if it were the double barrel of a shotgun; he said nothing, but his threatening glance was enough. He swaggered out of the room, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
    Shrugging off his pea jacket, Clem went out into the yard. Through the open door Tilly could hear him pumping water. Perhaps he was washing himself, although neither brother looked as though they were much used to the habit of keeping clean. Seizing the opportunity, she ran to the front door, praying that Abel might have left it unlocked, but her hopes were in vain. She would not cry; she would not let them see that she was deeply anxious and afraid. Walking slowly back to the kitchen, she looked at the mess and her heart sank, but there was nothing for it – she rolled up her sleeves and began to clear the table.
    â€˜That weren’t half bad,’ Abel said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his belly. ‘I say we keep this one, what d’you say, Clem?’
    Chewing on a mouthful of bacon, Clem nodded.
    Taking a packet of Player’s Navy Cut from his pocket, Abel selected a cigarette and struck a match on the sole of his boot. He inhaled deeply, exhaling smoke with a satisfied sigh. ‘That’s it for me. I’m going for a kip.’ Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet and let out a loud belch.
    Clem looked up from his plate. ‘What’ll we do about her?’
    â€˜You keep an eye on her.’ Abel turned to Tilly. ‘Don’t try nothing, you.’ He left the kitchen with a trail of cigarette smoke floating in his wake.
    Having eaten a doorstep sandwich filled with bacon, Tilly was feeling a lot better. She filled a cup with tea and went to sit at the table opposite Clem. ‘Do you always let him tell you what to do?’
    Wiping the remains of egg yolk and bacon fat off his plate with a hunk of bread, Clem gave her a quick glance and then looked away again. ‘No.’
    Tilly tried again. ‘You know you can’t keep me here against me will.’
    Clem munched on the bread, saying nothing.
    â€˜It’s against the law to hold me prisoner. You’ll end up in Newgate.’
    â€˜It’s not up to me.’ Getting to his feet, Clem went to sit in the chair by the range. ‘Best get on with it. You’ll get it in the neck if the guvner comes home and the place is still a mess.’
    â€˜And you’d let him, would you?’ Jumping up, Tilly faced him, hands on hips. ‘You’d stand by and let your old man leather me, would you?’
    Clem eyed her, a dull flush rising from his throat to his cheeks. ‘I won’t have no say in it. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep quiet and just get on with it.’
    Now that he was clean, Tilly could see that Clem was much younger than she had at first thought; he couldn’t be much above twenty-two or three. Scrubbed up, she thought, he might even look presentable if he wore tidy clothes and brushed his hair that was lighter than Abel’s, although that did not make him fair. Clem’s hair was the colour of burnt toffee and his hazel eyes were fringed with thick, dark lashes. Eyeing him more out of curiosity than interest, Tilly wondered if a better person lurked beneath his tough exterior. Abel had been quite happy to see her starve, but Clem had insisted that she would be able to do more work if she had a good breakfast inside her. Turning her back on him, Tilly set to work, but her brain was focused on planning her escape.
    Having cleared the table, throwing rubbish in the fire and piling the dirty crockery on the wooden draining board in the scullery, she found a broom and began sweeping the floor. Clem sat in the chair by the range and it was obvious to Tilly that he was having difficulty in staying awake. His eyes kept closing and his head rolled to the side or flopped down onto his chest, then with a