Read Online Winnie of the Waterfront by Rosie Harris - Free Book Online
Authors: Rosie Harris
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get on with it, what does it say?’ Grace demanded.
Winnie blinked hard and cleared her throat. ‘Missing, presumed dead,’ she croaked.
‘Oh my God!’ The shock sobered Grace Malloy like a douse of cold water. ‘Give it here!’ She snatched at the flimsy piece of paper and read it over and over again.
‘Where’s my bloody purse,’ she screeched. ‘Find me my purse. I need a sodding drink. Me nerves are shattered. Bloody fool. Trust him to get himself killed.’
‘It says “missing”, Mam, and “presumed dead”, so Dad could still be alive,’ Winnie pointed out hopefully.
‘Not him! He’ll be dead, you can bet on that. Awkward bugger. Landed me in it this time, hasn’t he!’
‘Dad wouldn’t get killed on purpose!’ Winnie screamed at her.
‘Shut your gob! What’re you yelling about? You’re not the one who has to make every penny do the work of two. If they stop his allotment we’ll know he’s dead all right, and what will we live on then? Think about that, Miss Clever Clogs.’
Winnie looked at her, wide-eyed with distress. The thought that she might never see her dad again made her feel hollow.
‘Out of me bloody way, then,’ Grace muttered as she pushed Winnie’s chair to one side to allow her to get to the door.
‘Don’t go to the pub, Mam, I don’t want to be on my own.’
‘Too bloody bad. You should have told your dad to be more sodding careful when you waved him off,’ Grace sneered.
Winnie didn’t know what to do once she was alone. Her mam had antagonised most of the other people living in Carswell Court and the adjoining houses, so she didn’t think anyone would come even if she called out. The hands on the clock moved so slowly that she wondered if it had stopped. Her eyes felt heavy but there were too many terrible thoughts going round and round in her head. She wanted her mam to come back. She only had her mam now, but that was better than nothing.
She couldn’t help being crippled. She did try to do things for herself and she’d probably be better at it if her mam would help her, she thought morosely. If only she would make a fuss of her or encourage her like her dad used to do. Her mam never even kissed her goodnight these days.
Ten o’clock came and went and Winnie became uneasy. The pubs would be out by now. Then the clock on the mantelpiece chimed for eleven o’clock. Everyone would have gone home by now – even the gas-lamps outside in the street had gone out – so where was her mam?
Midnight came and Winnie felt waves of panic. There was nothing she could do. She strained her ears but there were no steps approaching through the darkness and the rest of the house seemed to have settled for the night. Cold and concerned, she dozed in uneasy, neck-jerking snaps. The moment she felt her head drop onto her chest she forced herself upright and rubbed her eyes hard to try and stay awake.
How many times that happened she had no idea. The room grew colder and she pulled the blanket higher, but she couldn’t stop shivering. Gradually, as the grey light of morning came creeping into the room, she felt some of her tension ease momentarily. Daylight was followed by all the usual early morning noises as the rest of the people in the house got ready for work.
So where was her mam, Winnie thought anxiously. Fresh waves of panic made her tremble. She didn’t know what to do. When Sandy came to wheel her to school he found her shaking and frightened.
‘My mam never came home last night,’ she told him.
His eyebrows went up and he ran a hand through his shock of red hair. ‘She’s never stayed out all night before, has she?’
Winnie shook her head. ‘She went to the pub because she had some bad news,’ she explained.
He waited for her to go on.
‘There was this message,’ she snuffled. ‘It was about my dad. He’s missing, Sandy. It said “presumed dead”. I don’t think we’ll ever see him again,’ she choked.
Sandy looked uncomfortable.
Winnie blinked hard and cleared her throat. ‘Missing, presumed dead,’ she croaked.
‘Oh my God!’ The shock sobered Grace Malloy like a douse of cold water. ‘Give it here!’ She snatched at the flimsy piece of paper and read it over and over again.
‘Where’s my bloody purse,’ she screeched. ‘Find me my purse. I need a sodding drink. Me nerves are shattered. Bloody fool. Trust him to get himself killed.’
‘It says “missing”, Mam, and “presumed dead”, so Dad could still be alive,’ Winnie pointed out hopefully.
‘Not him! He’ll be dead, you can bet on that. Awkward bugger. Landed me in it this time, hasn’t he!’
‘Dad wouldn’t get killed on purpose!’ Winnie screamed at her.
‘Shut your gob! What’re you yelling about? You’re not the one who has to make every penny do the work of two. If they stop his allotment we’ll know he’s dead all right, and what will we live on then? Think about that, Miss Clever Clogs.’
Winnie looked at her, wide-eyed with distress. The thought that she might never see her dad again made her feel hollow.
‘Out of me bloody way, then,’ Grace muttered as she pushed Winnie’s chair to one side to allow her to get to the door.
‘Don’t go to the pub, Mam, I don’t want to be on my own.’
‘Too bloody bad. You should have told your dad to be more sodding careful when you waved him off,’ Grace sneered.
Winnie didn’t know what to do once she was alone. Her mam had antagonised most of the other people living in Carswell Court and the adjoining houses, so she didn’t think anyone would come even if she called out. The hands on the clock moved so slowly that she wondered if it had stopped. Her eyes felt heavy but there were too many terrible thoughts going round and round in her head. She wanted her mam to come back. She only had her mam now, but that was better than nothing.
She couldn’t help being crippled. She did try to do things for herself and she’d probably be better at it if her mam would help her, she thought morosely. If only she would make a fuss of her or encourage her like her dad used to do. Her mam never even kissed her goodnight these days.
Ten o’clock came and went and Winnie became uneasy. The pubs would be out by now. Then the clock on the mantelpiece chimed for eleven o’clock. Everyone would have gone home by now – even the gas-lamps outside in the street had gone out – so where was her mam?
Midnight came and Winnie felt waves of panic. There was nothing she could do. She strained her ears but there were no steps approaching through the darkness and the rest of the house seemed to have settled for the night. Cold and concerned, she dozed in uneasy, neck-jerking snaps. The moment she felt her head drop onto her chest she forced herself upright and rubbed her eyes hard to try and stay awake.
How many times that happened she had no idea. The room grew colder and she pulled the blanket higher, but she couldn’t stop shivering. Gradually, as the grey light of morning came creeping into the room, she felt some of her tension ease momentarily. Daylight was followed by all the usual early morning noises as the rest of the people in the house got ready for work.
So where was her mam, Winnie thought anxiously. Fresh waves of panic made her tremble. She didn’t know what to do. When Sandy came to wheel her to school he found her shaking and frightened.
‘My mam never came home last night,’ she told him.
His eyebrows went up and he ran a hand through his shock of red hair. ‘She’s never stayed out all night before, has she?’
Winnie shook her head. ‘She went to the pub because she had some bad news,’ she explained.
He waited for her to go on.
‘There was this message,’ she snuffled. ‘It was about my dad. He’s missing, Sandy. It said “presumed dead”. I don’t think we’ll ever see him again,’ she choked.
Sandy looked uncomfortable.
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