Abigale Hall Read Online Free PDF

the kitchen, smoking, when they emerged. Eliza helped Rebecca carry her luggage to the door, where Mr Drewry waited. Rebecca had become vacant, the way she often did after a fit, and made no protest when Mr Drewry took her arm. Before Eliza could wrench her sister from him, Aunt Bess called from the table. Eliza would not look at her.
    â€˜Aren’t you going to say goodbye?’ Aunt Bess asked.
    Eliza picked up both suitcases and motioned for Mr Drewry to exit the flat.
    â€˜No.’ She closed the door calmly as she left. Mrs Hodgkins was carrying a bin bag downstairs.
    â€˜Going on a trip, love?’
    Eliza ignored her.
    Outside, a cab waited for them. Mr Drewry opened the taxi door and climbed inside with Rebecca. Eliza followed with the suitcases. Their escort sat close to the driver while the girls settled in across from him. A layer of grime coated the floor, and the thin seats had little cushioning left. A spring jabbed into Eliza’s upper thigh. She tucked in her legs and arms, attempting to touch as little of the filthy car as possible. As the cab drove off, Eliza saw a tall, skeletal man enter their building – Mr Mosley.
    â€˜May it be an unhappy union,’ she muttered, and looked away.
    With Rebecca leaning against her, Eliza stared out of the window as the cab made its way through the streets. She watched the buses and pedestrians, admired the old Victorian homes now pockmarked from bomb blasts and glanced down narrow side streets where spivs stood selling their wares. She watched the damp pavements speeding alongside her, empty of queues now the shops had shut.
    Eliza watched it all as the cab took them further away from home. She was still here yet missing it already. She did her best not to think about Peter. As soon as she could, she would write to him. Rebecca kept silent. She wasn’t counting, at least not aloud. It was the best Eliza could hope for. Mr Drewry also remained mute, staring out of his window for the duration of the ride. If he was familiar with London, Eliza couldn’t tell. He expressed neither the interest of someone visiting the city for the first time nor the apathy of someone who’d seen it all before.
    The cab stopped outside Paddington Station. Mr Drewry paid the driver then led Rebecca out, leaving Eliza with the suitcases. When Peter went on holiday, would he leave from here, she wondered as she followed Mr Drewry and Rebecca inside. Would Peter think of her as he travelled alone, or would there be another girl at his side?
    She followed Mr Drewry to Platform 4, where a train awaited them underneath the high, vaulted arches. The ticket collector directed them to a first-class carriage, for which Eliza was grateful. Returning to London after the war, she and the other children were packed in the coach compartments so tight there was no room for anyone to sit. A little boy had vomited on her only pair of shoes.
    Mr Drewry chose an empty compartment and slid the door shut behind them. Only then did he help Eliza with the luggage. Together, they lifted the pieces onto the racks above their heads, his solitary arm proving remarkably strong. Once finished, he sat across from the sisters and went back to staring out of the window. Eliza could no longer bear the silence.
    â€˜My name is Eliza. This is Rebecca.’
    She waited. He said nothing.
    â€˜What part of Wales are we going to?’
    No answer.
    â€˜Could you at least tell us how long the journey will take?’
    â€˜Seven hours, fourteen minutes,’ he replied. Eliza expected his voice to be soft, lilting and Welsh. Instead, it was hard and English. Possibly Northern, though it was difficult to tell since he spoke so little. She thanked him then leant Rebecca against her shoulder and began her silent goodbyes to home.
    *
    It did not take long for the city to disappear. Eliza watched as the lights faded away into fog. Once they were rolling through darkened fields, she felt