Orphan of Angel Street by Annie Murray Read Free Book Online

said as they set out along the road in the cold, grey afternoon. ‘Blimey—’ She rubbed one hand vigorously round her jaw. ‘Got a proper face ache after all that smiling!’
    Mercy looked around her, full of excitement suddenly, despite all the confusion of it. She was going out somewhere new, to a new home! She imagined homes as warm, comfortable places with soft furniture to sit on, flowers in the gardens and kind, benevolent people.
    ‘Give us yer things,’ Mrs Gaskin snapped, almost snatching Mercy’s woven bag from her which contained her very few possessions. Mercy held on tight to the parcel though. ‘Can’t stand kids dawdlin’ round me. We’re going to ’ave ter get on the tram. Will yer come on – I want to get out of ’ere, smartish.’ Mercy couldn’t help noticing that Mrs Gaskin’s smile had dropped away as quickly as had her posh accent.
    One hand lifting the green skirt up out of the muck in the gutter, the other carrying Mercy’s bag, Mabel Gaskin jerked her head to indicate that they should cross the road, and strode across so fast Mercy had to run to keep up and avoid being hit by a fast trotting horse and carriage.
    In her entire life so far the furthest Mercy had ever been was Minister Vesey’s church on the Witton Road. Everything else had revolved round Kent Street. Now they were going to go right across Birmingham to some green and mysterious place Miss O’Donnell had called Handsworth.
    ‘’S’Handsworth nice?’ she asked, panting a bit.
    ‘Yer what?’ They’d reached a main road and Mabel was looking up and down. ‘Where’s that cowing tram stop?’
    ‘Handsworth,’ Mercy persevered. ‘What’s it like?’
    ‘Ah – there . . .’ Mabel dashed off along the road. ‘Right in front of me bleedin’ nose. And there’s one coming – quick!’
    The tram trundled towards them. ‘Ooh – can we sit on the top?’ Mercy pleaded, bold in her excitement. The open top of the tram was edged by ornate iron railings and she thought it must be heaven to sit up there and see everything.
    ‘With sparks coming down on yer, and in this weather – you off yer ’ead?’
    The tram swayed to a standstill and Mabel didn’t have to prod Mercy to climb up inside. They managed to find two places on the wooden seats downstairs.
    ‘Don’t trust them buses,’ Mabel murmured, straightening her skirt under her. ‘Least with a tram yer know it’s got to stay on the tracks.’
    Mercy watched, thrilled, out of the window as they lumbered along the cobbled streets past shops, churches, small workshops and dwellings. The walls were painted with signs advertising all manner of things: Birds’ Custard, Hudson’s Soap, Fred Smith’s Ales and Stout, and Mercy tried hungrily to read them all. And it was such a big place! They seemed to have been on the tram for ages already. Mercy kept her eyes fixed on the view through the whole journey, except once when they passed a building which to her looked like a palace. The front of it was all coloured tiles with scrolls and flowers, fruit, and two rounded bay windows with bits of brightly-coloured glass making a pattern at the top.
    ‘What’s that?’ she asked Mabel urgently. ‘Cor – that’s beautiful, that is!’
    Mabel had taken her hat off and was busy trying to pin it back on top of her twisted skein of black hair. She half looked, seeming agitated. ‘What – where?’
    ‘There!’
    ‘That’s a pub. Ain’t you never seen a pub before?’ She stared at Mercy for a moment. What was it about this girl with her peculiar piercing eyes that got on her nerves so much already?
    ‘Right – off ’ere,’ Mabel ordered a few stops later. Mercy followed her fat behind along the tram and jumped down behind her.
    ‘Is this Handsworth?’
    ‘No – it’s not bloody ’Andsworth!’ Mabel was suddenly enraged. ‘We ain’t going to ’Andsworth so would you shurrup keeping on about it.’
    ‘But I thought . . .’
    ‘Yes, well you know what