A City Tossed and Broken by Judy Blundell Read Free Book Online Page A

Should be a shindig. And for once it isn’t damp and chilly. Feels like the first day of spring out there.”
    I couldn’t for the life of me imagine going to Mrs. Sump and asking if I could go rollerskating on my first night here. I laughed, and the boy looked hurt.
    “I think it’s a bit early to be asking for a night off, don’t you?” I pointed out to him. “I don’t want to get my ears boxed on my first day.”
    “Well, that depends,” Jake said with a genial grin. “You might consider it breaking in a new boss, letting ’em know what they’re in for.” He pointed to the tea tray. “And if you’re the only one here, roller skates might help you with chores.”
    I laughed, thinking of skating on the polished, elegant floor, bringing the tea tray to the study. “That would be a sight,” I said. “I don’t know how to roller-skate, or ice-skate, either. I’d smash the tea set before I got across the kitchen.”
    “That’s why you have to come with us tonight. All you need is practice.”
    We grinned at each other, and then I felt awkward, like he might think I was forward, or flirting with him. There’s no telling what he was thinking. So I busied myself taking the things out of the carton.
    He edged toward the door. “I’m sure we’ll meet again. I do the deliveries, like I said. I’m Jake Jennardi, by the way. Yeah, my family owns the store. We’re right down the hill on Broadway.”
    I knew he was waiting for me to supply my name, but I hesitated. I didn’t like how familiar he was.
    “Aw, that’s all right. You want to wait for a proper introduction I reckon. You’ll find we’re a bit more informal here.” I stiffened, thinking he was making fun, but he touched his fingers to his cap and whistled as he headed for the door. “Well, I can wait. Good-bye, Philadelphia.”
    Couldn’t help smiling at that while I folded up his map and tucked it between your pages, diary.
    8 P.M.
    Lily refused to go to the opera. Another scene. Mrs. Sump said it was the perfect opportunity for her debut into society. Mrs. Sump doesn’t care about some Italian singer, but everyone will be there and they must be, too.
    But Lily said her headache was worse. I don’t blame her — if I had that woman yammering at me like that, my head would pound, too.
    I’ve laid out Mrs. Sump’s nightclothes and I’ve checked on Lily, knocking on her door and hearing her say she’s fine and she’s going to bed.
    Mr. Sump stopped me outside in the hall, saying he wanted to make sure I could find everything and apologizing for not having other servants tonight and my having to do everything.
    And of course I curtsied and said I was fine, sir.
    That’s when he said to me that he would appreciate my telling him if any communication arrived for Lily at any time, because he would like to examine it first, being her father. He must have seen the reluctance on my face, because he said he is the head of the house and even though I wait on Miss Sump I take orders from him.
    “I’ve been a benefactor to your family, Minette,” he said. “I was happy to be able to extend a hand of generosity to an unfortunate circumstance so that a worthy family would not slide into poverty and disgrace. It’s not that I expect thanks” — and here he paused, diary, so that I could dip into a small curtsy and thank him — “but I do expect loyalty.”
    Was that what my father was, an unfortunate circumstance? Not a person?
    “I’m prepared to be loyal to you both, sir,” I said, which wasn’t much of an answer and by the scowl on his face he knew it.
    Midnight
    I am waiting up for the Sumps to return. She could want some tea, she said, and help getting into her nightclothes. With all those buttons and clasps, I’m sure she’s right. I am so tired. I have to be up at five to start the fires in the rooms.
    Earlier in the evening I knocked on Lily’s door to collect her tea tray and she wasn’t there. When I looked out the window I