Christmas Wish by Lizzie Lane Read Free Book Online Page B

good?’
    Her mouth full of food, Magda nodded and finally managed to mumble that yes, it was good. Very good.
    Winnie continued to eye the child, loving the way shesmiled at her between each mouthful, finding a strange peace in the joyfulness of Magda’s face.
    Some deep-seated instinct told Winnie to ignore her plan to bring the child into her house even though her virginity alone would bring a small fortune. And she knew many men who would pay that fortune, though not yet, not until the girl had become a young woman – fourteen at least.
    It had been this way for a long while. Once her own beauty and thus her means of making money had gone, she’d employed the beauty of others to make her a living. This girl was already a beauty. How long would it take to subdue her to the rules of the house – if she could be coerced into submission that is?
    Magda, she decided, was strong willed, just as she had been. She found herself wondering whether her own baby daughter would have been so. A sudden tightness seemed to claw at her heart as the painful memory bloomed large and beautiful in her mind.
    Reuben Fitts hadn’t cared a toss about their dead child and once he’d seen her hip, damaged as a result of the difficult labour, he’d lost interest.
    He’d used her and abused her. Love didn’t come into it, though power and having control over another human being did.
    He’d said he’d loved her and that if she loved him, she would lay with other men. But the child had been his though he chose to deny it.
    Losing him, losing a baby and losing her living had made her harder and deeper of thought. That was when it had come to her that the twentieth century, with its motor cars, its aeroplanes and other wondrous things, was little different than other centuries. As in the past, women were either servants or chattels and it had to be worse for women whowere different. They could opt to be servants all their lives or opt to be wives and mothers, worn out by the time they were thirty and never in charge of their lives. What if she gave them another option?
    ‘You’re welcome to move in any time you like and free to leave when you like. As my girls will tell you, ’tis safe under my roof. They’re doted on by their gentlemen callers and dressed in the finest clothes – ladies every one.’
    Winnie waited, unsure whether the girl was hers just yet, though not sure she wanted her to be. Something else was eating at her. The memory of her baby daughter’s death had never plagued her before as it did now. It had happened such a long time ago, when she was young and beautiful with her whole life ahead of her. She wasn’t that old now, though she certainly looked it. The years had not been kind and some had been downright cruel.
    Magda finally finished eating, put down the spoon and rubbed at her full belly.
    ‘My mother cooked stews like this before she got sick.’
    ‘Is that so,’ said Winnie, leaning forward, both gnarled hands resting on her walking stick. ‘Tell me about your mother and your family. I’d love to hear all about them.’
    At first it seemed as though Magda was unwilling, but then it all came out. Magda told her about her mother, about her absent father and the sisters and brother that she badly missed and the wonderful Christmas that they’d had and would have again.
    As she listened, Winnie’s thoughts returned to that dead baby, born in pieces into a harsh, unforgiving world. If the child – a girl – had lived, she might well have been like Magda – not so much in looks perhaps, but lost. Alone. At the mercy of others …
    Magda tossed her head. Her look was forthright. ‘My fatherleft enough money with Mrs Brodie to keep me until he comes back. There’s not much left. If he doesn’t come back quickly she’ll throw me out on the street.’
    Pushing compassion to the back of her mind, a slow smile crossed the wrinkled old face of Winnie One Leg. ‘Well. We can’t let that happen, my dear, can