Lakeland Lily by Freda Lightfoot Read Free Book Online Page B

Cobbles,’ Arnie explained.
    ‘Ah, I see your point.’
    ‘No drains, gutters broken, only water from a pump in a shared yard, and walls that thin you can hear ‘em stir their tea next door. Been here hundreds of years it has, and should be burned to the ground.’
    ‘Won’t do it though, the landlords, will they? Wealth is power, and mustn’t be weakened by consideration for those who labour. But times are changing. The bosses won’t always have it their own way. Some of us are fighting back.’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘Take me, for instance. I’ve got meself a good job working on the Public Steamer. It’s only taking tickets but then I’m young yet, just twenty-one. I’ve plenty of time, and you have to start somewhere, eh? I mean to go places.’
    Arnie laughed. ‘Working for the steamer company, the only place thee’ll go is round the lake!’
    ‘You can mock but I’ve served my time on bigger ships and I’ve a bit put by. I’m on my way, I tell you.’ He pointed a finger at the grimy ceiling. ‘I have plans.’
    Arnie looked more closely at the young man, at the set of his jaw and the determination in his blue eyes. ‘Aye, happen you will an’ all.’ There was a tinge of new respect in his voice. ‘You’re not from round these parts then? I don’t seem to recollect...’
    ‘Monroe. Nathan Monroe. I’ve been away for a good while. But, aye, I was born in the middle of this rat’s nest of streets, the smell of refuse on me doorstep battling with the sweet scents from the fells above, so I understand how you feel. It’s criminal this place wasn’t flattened years ago. With the elegant new villas built all along The Parade, you’d think they’d want to clean up these poorer areas, wouldn’t you? But no, profit is all. The landlords don’t give a damn whether The Cobbles is a good place to live or not.’
    ‘Aye, you’re right there.’ Arnie sighed. Landlords seemed to be the source of all his problems. Only last week his had come knocking at the door yet again in the shape of Percy Wright, the ferret-faced and persistent agent. Lily might resent the fact that Arnie had refused to complain to the Clermont-Reads over young Dick’s tragic accident, but how could he? It was to them he owed rent. He took a swallow of his beer, depression settling still further.
    The young man was still talking. ‘All they care about is making Carreckwater comfortable for themselves.’
    Arnie looked doleful. ‘And now we’ve got steamers, posh houses all round the lake, a town band, women on bicycles for God’s sake! Even electric lamps in our streets that frighten our old folk who fear they’ll leak and kill ‘em in their beds.’
    ‘Ah, but that’s all for the good of the tourists, Arnie,’ the young man said, as if they were old friends. ‘They’ll provide the profits which could make us all rich, if we play our cards right.’
    ‘Well, the fishing’s going nowhere, is it?’ He gave a harsh little laugh, and recklessly ordered a second half so he could sink his troubles in his beer. He would have liked to buy the pleasant young man one too, but wasn’t sure his pocket could run to it.
    ‘How’s Lily?’
    The abrupt change of direction took him by surprise and he spluttered into his drink. ‘Who?’
    ‘Lily. She is your daughter, isn’t she?’
    Arnie wiped the froth from his chin and peered at the man through narrowed eyes. ‘How do you know our Lily? Come to that, how did you know my name?’
    Monroe laughed. ‘Went to the same Dame School, didn’t we? Mrs Jepson, I’ll never forget her. She used to point at a big map on the wall with a long stick, and knock us on the head with it if we talked.’ He chuckled. ‘Mine was pretty sore by the time I left. Right old slave driver she was. So, how is Lily? I remember her as small and skinny with two long brown plaits.’
    ‘Aye, that were her all right.’ Arnie grunted, and wiped away a sentimental tear at the recollection of his