house of women by Yelena Kopylova Read Free Book Online

explained, "Dad's over the showrooms, he's manager there. You'd ... you'd best keep your distance from him. Anyway, you'd be put down in the grease shop to start with, under Mr. Brooker ... no, Mr. Stanhope; Mr. Brooker is assistant to the general manager, Mr. Cartwright."
    His face had resumed its usual expression.
    "Grease shop; what's that?"
    "That's what they call the repair shop."
    "A greaser? Me ... mam won't like that." She had a great urge to swear like Great-gran did at times and cry at him, "Damn your mam!"
    But what she said and grimly now was, "What would your mam have to do with it? If ... if we get married you'll have to take on responsibility and... and you should think yourself lucky that they are considering giving you a job. Yes, you should." She was flapping her hand at him now.
    "Anyway, who do you think you are, Andrew Jones? You played the big "
    I am" a few months ago; you acted as if you were a man." She paused here and they stared at each other in bitterness; and then she added,
    "And you lied. You said you lived up the top of Brampton Hill and your father worked in the Town Hall."
    "Oh well." He made a short sound of embarrassment
    "Half of it was true: Dad was working on the roof of the Town Hall. And anyway, from what I could see of your house from the gate it wasn't like this, was it?" His voice dropped to a hiss and he swept his arm about the room, adding, "Would you brag about this?"
    Her gaze was hard on him, her eyes widening slightly, and in this moment she felt sorry for him;
    she could see what he meant and why he had pretended to live on
    Brampton Hill. And because he went to the Grammar School she had never questioned this. And now an odd thought struck her: she had never seen him wear his school cap, which was why, she supposed, he seemed to be so much older than he was. School uniforms and caps revealed your age group.
    They continued to look at each other, and the silence now became so deep that it allowed the shrieking and pounding feet of children in the street to enter into it.
    He took two steps towards her; then, still looking directly at her, he said quietly, "I'll marry you; we couldn't be much worse off than we are now, could we?"
    She didn't question this, at least her side of it;
    but after wetting her lips a number of times she muttered, "All right then."
    He took another step towards her, and now he was within half an arm's length of her.
    "We ... we got on all right together at first, didn't we?" he said; but she didn't answer, only continued to look at him.
    "Well, we could again, especially if we're on our own and ... and they leave us alone."
    To whom was he referring: his people or hers? In a way she could see his people being prevented from interfering with them but not hers, not those three women back there. Oh, dear, dear, what was she saying, those three women! And they had all been so good to her, even Grandma Pollock, who was forever on the whine, she had never really said an unkind word to her; and then she had to say, those three women! and in that tone. What was happening to her?
    Is this what carrying a baby did to your mind? She had been sick this morning. She had been sick other mornings but nobody had seemed to notice, except that once when it had been put down to the leek pudding.
    And there had been a row over that leek pudding because Grandma Pollock had made the crust with dripping her father had refused to eat it so her sickness had been put down to that. What was more, she had a wash-basin in her room, so she had no need to go to the bathroom.
    There were wash-basins in all the bedrooms; it was that kind of house.
    This made her glance round the room in which she was standing and again she felt that pang of pity for Andrew. He must have some finer
    feelings because he disliked this place.
    She said softly, "We'd better tell them then, hadn't we?"
    "Yes."
    "Will you be going back to school?"
    "Well, it'll all depend on when ... when you want the