Strawberry Fields Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jess,’ Sara told herself miserably, making her way downstairs in answer to Mrs Prescott’s shout. ‘It was Jess, because the baby’s feet were sticking out under the blanket – and I could see my white angora gloves!’

Chapter Two
    Jess was as near freezing as a human being could be, she decided as she walked as fast as she could along Snowdrop Street. But beneath all the cold there was a warm little glow. That girl, Sara, had been a nice kid, and the money she’d handed over had bought not only some loaves of bread but two currant buns, a large piece of cheese and a bully beef tin full of milk.
    She had been heading home, but now she paused in her onward rush. The trouble was, it was Grace and the baby who needed the food most and if the others saw it, it wouldn’t last long. Wouldn’t go round all that her, either. Mam always fed Da and herself first, then the boys, then the girls. Yesterday there had been a proper stew, made especially for Christmas – a neighbour had donated the meat. But somehow, it had all got ate, and neither Grace nor Mollie had had a sniff of it. Grace had been poorly, so hot you could have fried an egg on her, and Mollie was too little to fight her corner. Jess herself had only had a boiled potato and a smear of gravy and that hadn’t gone far between her and Mollie.
    Jess sighed and stood still for a moment, doubly burdened by the sleeping child and the food. What should she do for the best? Grace was a dear little soul but she’d never manage bread and cheese, not with the fever she’d had. Jess had given her the buttermilk, warmed, with bread crumbled into it and the kid had scarcely managed two mouthfuls before she fell asleep again. But Mollie must be very hungry, and Jess herself was empty as a drum. If I don’t get something inside me soon I’ll be no good to the others, Jess thought, immediately practical. I’ll go somewhere quiet, eat some bread and cheese and a bun, feed Mollie the milk with some bread in it, and then go home later with what’s left.
    But where to go? Jess looked around her. The snow was falling thickly but surely there must be a suitable place where she could make up some food for the baby and feed her, undisturbed? Snowdrop Street was no good, someone might spot her and take the food off her, or her da might stagger down the road and try to bash her brains out just because she was the eldest. But there was always the marshalling yard.
    Jess looked across Commercial Road, towards the railway lines. There were a great many buildings there, all different. Many a time, when she’d been younger, she’d played around in the sheds which the workmen used as shelters from the weather, somewhere to eat their carryout. Surely she could find somewhere where she would be sufficiently sheltered to feed the child? Once Mollie’s small belly was full and she’d had a bite herself she would take the rest of the food home, no problem. Grace might be persuaded to eat a currant bun soaked in milk, that was soft and easy enough. And I might have the second bun meself, Jess thought with watering mouth. Eldest children, she knew from bitter experience, make do with the leftovers, they don’t often feast on currant buns. Accordingly, Jess hurried across Commercial Road, heading for the tiny cabins where the men working on the lines congregated at dinner-times. Someone would be about, but she might find one of the cabins empty.
    In her arms, Mollie wriggled. She was such a pretty baby, but she was usually hungry, same as all the kids were. Jess sighed and speeded up a bit.
    ‘Not long now, Mollie-o,’ she said comfortingly, giving the warm bundle which was her baby sister a hug. ‘Jess’s goin’ to give you bread ’n’ milk – what about that, eh?’
    Mollie gurgled. ‘Jess, Jess, Jess,’ she chanted beneath the blanket. ‘Milla-milla, Jess milla-milla.’
    ‘That’s it,’ Jess said stoutly. She wriggled through a hole in the fence and began to cross the