The Girl From Penny Lane Read Online Free PDF Page B

desperately. ‘I ’ad a penny what the shop lady give me, but I caught a tram, the box is that ’eavy. C’mon, gi’s me box.’
    ‘No money, no box,’ the apprentice said. ‘And jest in case you’ve gorrit in mind to tattle . . .’
    He put a hand into the long pocket in front of his filthy apron and pulled out a knife, a huge thing, sharp, wicked. He stepped forward, and whilst his companion tucked the box under his arm in a very final sort of way, pressed the knife against Kitty’s throat, so hard that she dared not even swallow, convinced that any movement would send the razor-edge deep into her flesh.
    ‘Understand, chuck?’ his whisper was more frightening than a shout or a cuff would have been. ‘One word from you, jest one word, an’ your Mam’ll find you up dis entry tomorrer wi’ your t’rottle cut from ear to ear. An’ don’t t’ink you can escape from me, ’cos I’ll git you, I swear on the face o’ God.’
    Kitty, rigid with terror, said nothing. She could feel perspiration running down the sides of her face but she was deathly cold. He would kill her and get pleasure from it, she was sure. She could do nothing to save the trimmings, but if she said she’d come back later with the money perhaps . . .
    ‘Off wit’ you!’
    A hand grabbed her shoulder and twisted her out of the corner into which she had shrunk as a pin twists a winkle from its shell. A violent push sent her staggering up the entry, and as she regained her equilibrium she simply flew, her feet scarcely touching the slippery, smelly cobbles.
    Out on Burlington Street, with people about her, she dared not glance back. That knife – and the threat that went with it – had been all too real. She kept her head down, dodging passers-by, heading hopelessly for Paradise Court. She reached it and then shrank back, suddenly realising what a fix she was in.
    If she went in without the trimmings her mother would kill her, even if she handed over the money. And would she be allowed to explain what had happened, how she could get the box back if she took a couple of bob to pay the boys’ blackmail demand? Her hand stole down across her shirt-front once more. She still had the money, but because she had lost the trimmings the money would mean nothing to Mam, who would have to pay it all back, and more, probably, to Miss Hughes to make up for the missing work.
    Caught on the horns of a horrible dilemma, Kitty stood there, gazing into the tiny, cobbled court. If only Mrs O’Rourke had still been alive, she might have helped Kitty to explain her predicament to her mother before the blows began to fall. But she was not. This problem was Kitty’s and Kitty’s alone.
    Tears began to form, to fill Kitty’s eyes, to trickle down her cheeks. Oh, God, what was she to do? She realised, suddenly, that if she took two shillings back to those boys they would think that she had a source of income and would probably give her back a few ribbons and demand more money. What was more, they had made no arrangements for the handing over of the cash, she could scarcely walk into the fishmonger’s shop, hand over money and expect to receive her box of trimmings in return! She could hang around the entry, she supposed doubtfully, then knew she would never dare. The boy with the knife was mad, he would probably take her money and then slit her throat, she never wanted to go down that entry again as long as she lived.
    But what was her alternative, really? If she ran away then they would have the scuffers after her because she’d stolen money. If she went indoors without the trimmings then she was as good as dead. She wondered about going back to Miss Hughes’s shop and explaining, offering to run errands for a hundred years, if only Miss Hughes would replace the trimmings and say nowt to Mam. But the shop would be closed, it would be dusk soon, there was no hope there.
    Kitty sat down, with her back to the side of the wine merchant’s shop, and