Poppy Day by Annie Murray Read Free Book Online Page B

felt such a big, noisy, squalid place. Jess felt suffocated by it, longed to breathe fresh country air, be away from the turmoil and human squalor.
    I don’t belong here, she thought, in this miserable mood, walking back along Allison Street. I don’t really belong anywhere.
    As the spring passed, along with the fun and warmth of living with the family, sitting round the table to eat, the jokes, there were other things Jess was starting to notice. Polly was worried about Olive.
    ‘Mom—’ she protested when Olive gave her another long list of shopping to fetch in after work. ‘I can’t carry all that back on me own – and I won’t ’ave time! Why can’t yer get it this morning?’
    ‘I’ll do some,’ Jess was always glad to feel useful. ‘If you go up Jamaica Row, I’ll go in the Market Hall and we can do half each.’
    Gradually the girls got into the habit of doing all the shopping between them. If anything extra was needed Olive sent someone out – Sis, often, on an errand.
    ‘I don’t know what’s got into our mom,’ Polly said one night. ‘She don’t seem to want to go out the house nowadays. I think she’d get us to go to the lavvy for ’er if we could.’
    ‘Yer’d think she’d want to get out and ’ave a bit of a gossip for a while,’ Jess said, remembering that Sarah had usually come home in a marginally better temper from a walk to the village to fetch groceries and chat to anyone she met.
    ‘She don’t want to see anyone,’ Sis’s voice came softly through the darkness. ‘It ain’t like ’er.’
    ‘She won’t say why,’ Polly said. ‘I’ve asked ’er.’
    Jess thought about the night she’d arrived, her aunt’s reaction.
    ‘It’s not summat I’ve done, is it?’
    ‘No – why should it be? I s’pect she’ll get over it. P’raps she ain’t feeling too good and don’t want to make a fuss.’
    When they’d lain quiet for a time, Jess asked, ‘Poll – this is nosey to ask, but – Ronny. Who’s ’is father?’
    But there was no reply. Polly was either asleep, or pretending to be.
    Jess also started to notice the way Olive quizzed Polly – not herself, just Polly – almost every time she came in from work or shopping.
    ‘Seen anyone?’ This was said in a casual way, but Jess could hear an edge of anxiety in her voice.
    ‘No,’ Polly would reply, puzzled. ‘Who am I s’posed to ’ave seen?’
    Jess wanted to say, ‘But you must’ve seen someone . It was swarming with people out there!’
    Once Olive asked, ‘No one following yer, was there?’
    ‘No!’ Polly laughed, then looked solemn. ‘Mom? Why d’yer keep asking all these funny questions?’
    ‘Oh – no reason,’ Olive said. ‘Just wondered.’
    Polly’s worried eyes met Jess’s for a second. They were coming to understand that ‘anyone’ meant ‘someone’ in particular, and that this ‘someone’ was someone who was preying on her mind, who she seemed afraid of seeing.
    But they couldn’t get any more out of her, could all feel the strength of emotion round the subject. And Olive continued to stay in. She was all right in the house with them, but she seemed scared to step outside her own front door.

Seven
    ‘Shift yerselves, you lot, and see what’s coming down the ’orse road!’
    Everyone else was in a Sunday afternoon stupor: Bert sleeping off a few pints, Olive dozing. Ernie, Polly’s beau who was round for the afternoon, was entertaining Ronny, tossing him about on his lap, a game Ronny never tired of. Jess watched them sleepily through half-closed eyes. She’d liked Ernie straight away, his chubby face and gingery beard, the way he was good with Ronny. It was Polly who’d got up to put the kettle on and looked out of the window.
    ‘Come out quick and look!’
    Jess, Ernie and Sis followed her. Olive stood in the doorway, craning her head round. Bertha Hyde opposite was at her window having a good nose. Sis took one look and started running down the road, laughing and