A Loving Family Read Online Free PDF Page A

out a leather pouch. ‘I am going to give you the fare to London. I want you to catch the train to Bow, which is much closer to your destination. I’m giving you enough money for the return fare to Brentwood, which is near to where you’ve come from. I want you to promise me that you will keep this money for that purpose and that purpose alone.’ He closed his large fist over the coins and held her gaze with a purposeful stare. ‘Promise.’
    She held out her hand. ‘I dunno why you’re being so kind to me, but I promise.’
    â€˜Good girl.’ He dropped the money into her palm. ‘Now go into the station and buy a ticket. Get the first train to Bow, where you must change trains for the Blackwall extension railway which will take you to Limehouse. You should be with your family very soon.’ He leaned over and dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re a brave child and I’m pleased to have been able to help. Now get along with you, Stella. Don’t waste time chatting to an old man like me.’
    â€˜I’ll never forget your kindness, Mr Hendy.’ Stella picked up the basket and climbed carefully down to the ground. She blew him a kiss before turning and hurrying into the ticket office.
    It was a short walk from the station to Broadway Wharf and although it was Sunday the holiness of the day did not seem to have affected the denizens of Limehouse. Barefooted urchins played in the streets and the older boys formed small gangs, loitering on corners of dark alleyways, sizing up passers-by with obvious intent. Feral cats and dogs scavenged in the gutters, seeking anything that was remotely edible. Stella walked on, head held high, knowing that any show of fear would alert the hunter instinct in the bigger boys and she would be their prey.
    As she drew closer to the river she caught a whiff of the rank mud at low water together with a mixture of aromas from the warehouses and manufactories on the water’s edge. The sickly sweet smell of hot molasses mingled with the heady aroma of roasted coffee beans and exotic spices, but even the fumes from Curtis’s gin distillery did not quite mask the overpowering stench of overflowing sewers, coal tar, soot and animal excrement.
    She stopped, getting her bearings, and realised her mistake too late. A hostile cry, the thudding of bare feet on cobblestones, a rush of air, and flying bodies hurled her to the ground. She lay, gasping for breath, covering her head in expectation of a beating, but the gang had got what they wanted and vanished as quickly as they had come, disappearing into the maze of narrow courts that threaded like spidery veins between the warehouses and factory buildings. It was only when she managed to rise to her feet that she realised her basket had gone. The precious cake intended as a present for her mother had been taken by ravening youths who were probably fighting over it like wild animals. She felt in her pocket and to her horror it was empty. The money that Mr Hendy had so kindly given to her had also been stolen. She was too angry to cry and too bruised from the fall to think clearly. All she wanted now was to go home to her mother.
    She limped towards the river. She had spent her early years with the sound of the great Thames as it roared past Limehouse Reach ringing in her ears, and she had seen its strong currents merging with the surge of the incoming tide. The creak of the wooden hulls of boats moored alongside the many wharves and the flapping of stays against wooden masts had lulled her to sleep as a baby, and her playground had been the muddy foreshore at low tide. She was coming home and she began to run.
    She arrived at Broadway Wharf breathless and sobbing. Soon she would be with her family at the very top of the ramshackle weatherboard house, which balanced precariously on piles driven into the mud and was sandwiched between the harbour master’s house and a one-storey