Mermaids Singing by Dilly Court Read Free Book Online

for Kitty to come and help her quick smart as the pheasants, four brace of them, had to be plucked and drawn, ready for a dinner party that evening.
    The washing-up took Kitty until well after midnight and she crawled up the ninety-seven stairs to the attics on her hands and knees. She undressed in the dark and fell into bed, sliding her bare feet under the coverlet. A scream of horror was torn from her throat as her feet touched something cold, clammy and spiked with bristles. She fell onto the floor with a thump. The door opened and a thin stream of candlelight dazzled her eyes.
    ‘Had a bad dream?’ Dora said, giggling.
    ‘Got out of bed the wrong side?’ Olive poked Kitty with her bare foot.
    Kitty scrambled to her feet and, pulling back the coverlet, she saw that the offending object was a raw pig’s trotter.
    Helpless with laughter, Olive and Dora stuffed their hands in their mouths and ran off down the corridor to their own room. Trembling with shock and rage, Kitty was about to close her door when she heard Mrs Brewster’s angry voice scolding them for larking around. Serve them right, she thought, grabbing the trotter and hurling it across the room.
*
    Next day, when the family luncheon dishes were washed and put away, and with Mrs Dixon’s permission, Kitty wrapped Betty’s old shawl around her shoulders and set off for Tanner’s Passage with the purse clutched firmly in her hand. No one had mentioned the pig’s trotter incident, although Olive had given her some black looks and George had been grinning all over his face.
    Kitty walked as far as Trafalgar Square, enjoying the golden October sunlight that bathed the grey Portland stones of the buildings in a soft light. The sound of the coins jingling in her purse made her heart leap with pride; she had earned every penny of the money and now she would be able to repay some of Betty’s kindness, and send some home to Maggie and the nippers, who were never far from her thoughts. Stopping at a sweetshop, she purchased two ounces of bullseyes for Betty and two ounces of cream fudge for Polly, who might choke on anything harder. Kitty couldn’t resist sampling one of each herself, rolling the sweets around her mouth and making them last until she caught the horse-drawn omnibus that would take her down the Strand, Fleet Street and into the City. She walked the last mile or so to save her pennies and, as she neared Billingsgate, the familiar smell of fish, engine oil, naphtha, soot and sewage told her she was almost home.
    Entering the narrow canyon of Tanner’s Passage, Kitty was startled to see everything through different eyes, and having just left the elegance of Dover Street and the West End, the contrast in lifestyles was appalling. She had always thought that Tanner’s Passage was so much better than Sugar Yard, but the reality was quite shocking. Mean dwellings were squashed between gaunt warehouses, broken windows stuffed with rags and newspaper; snotty-nosed, ragged children playing in the gutter next to the corpse of a long-dead cat. The foul smell of overflowing privies made her want to retch. Pressing a penny into the blue fingers of a half-clad child who sat on a doorstep, staring at her big-eyed, with painful-looking scabs of impetigo marring her pretty face, Kitty put her head down and hurried along the street to number seven.
    Betty opened the door and her face split into a grin that was so reminiscent of Jem that Kitty almost cried. As the door closed on the depressing poverty outside, Kitty was aware only of the love and human warmth within, and was instantly ashamed of comparing Tanner’s Passage unfavourably with Dover Street. Betty hugged her until she was breathless, and then sent Kitty upstairs to see Polly, who chortled with delight at the sight of her.
    ‘You look splendid, dear,’ Betty said, when she brought up a tray of tea and a plate of biscuits. ‘Don’t she look just the ticket, Poll?’
    With her mouth full of cream fudge