Autumn Softly Fell Read Online Free PDF Page B

sleep, it seemed to her that she woke up again almost at once but somehow she knew that she wasn’t awake in truth. She tried to ignore that because she wanted the dream to be real. She was at home, in Stepnall Street, in the room on the third floor, lying in the ramshackle bed with only one blanket. The wall beside her was cold and damp to the touch, but Mickey was there to cuddle up to, warm as toast. He was fast asleep, gently snoring, dribbling too. The way spittle leaked from the corner of his scabby mouth always made her queasy but for once she didn’t mind a bit. She was just glad to be home.
    The room was in darkness. The others were sleeping too. Flossie was gurgling faintly in her banana crate cot. Beyond the pinned-up curtain, Papa and Mrs Browning were breathing noisily out of sync, Mrs Browning whimpering every time she exhaled. Dorothea listened happily to these familiar sounds. There were others. Rats were scrabbling under the floor boards; there were muffled voices and the sound of thumping and bumping from other rooms. Outside, cats were fighting on a nearby roof, mewling and hissing, their claws scraping and sliding on the tiles. Faint footsteps came from the street; someone was singing out of tune; down in the court a man and a woman were arguing, their voices shrill, their words slurred. After so long away – weeks and weeks – these well-known noises which had so often disturbed her sleep sounded more like a favourite lullaby.
    She smiled drowsily and tightened her grip on Mickey, pulling his warm body close. Her eyelids fluttered and closed. She felt herself drifting, drifting….
    She woke with a start. There was still a smile on her lips but this time she was
really
awake. She was not in Stepnall Street. She waslying in the big bed in her room at Clifton Park and it was morning. Another dreary day had arrived.
    The sense of disappointment was crushing.
    Slowly she sat up, wiping away the tears that had sprung into her eyes. As she did so, she suddenly realised what she had to do. Her papa had not come back for her, so she must go to him. Stepnall Street was not just a dream, it was a place, it existed, and maybe – just maybe – her papa would be waiting there for her.
    She reached a decision. It was like a weight being lifted. She would go to London. She would go to Stepnall Street. She would go home.

    Dorothea sat at the big table in the day room fingering carved wooden objects that Nanny called ‘chess pieces’. Chess was a game, Nanny said. Dorothea did not know anything about it. She moved the black and white counters across the scrubbed tabletop, putting her plans into place.
    ‘Nora….’
    ‘Yes, miss?’
    ‘When Roderick goes to school, does he go by train?’
    ‘He does, miss.’
    ‘And is the station far from here?’
    Nora paused in her scrubbing of the floor, sat back on her haunches. ‘It’s not far at all, miss. I’ve walked it many a time.’ The station, Nora said, was on the main line down from London. It was at a place called Welby.
    But where was Welby? How did you get there?
    That was easy, Nora said. She knew the country hereabouts like the back of her hand, could find her way to Welby with her eyes shut. From Clifton you would go down the drive, turn left at the road, head for the village. Once in the village it was straight on at the Green and out the other side. You crossed the turnpike and took the road to Welby. The station was on the right, just before you reached Welby village itself. ‘You must have come that way yourself, miss, the day you arrived. You came by train, you said.’
    ‘I don’t remember. It was dark. I was asleep most of the time.’
    Nora looked at her curiously. ‘What’s brought this on, Miss Dorothea? Why are you so interested in the railway all of a sudden?’
    Dorothea sidestepped the question, wrinkled her nose instead. ‘That smell….’
    Nora laughed. ‘Carbolic, miss. Helps keep the place clean. Never mind, I’ve nearly