The Linnet Bird: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

pamphlet she looked at my badly bruised wrist, caused by the rough handling from one of my customers a few days earlier. “How have you hurt yourself, dear?” she inquired, glancing at Ram.
    I put my other hand over my wrist. “I—I don’t remember,” I said. But I looked up at her, wanting her to know that I couldn’t tell her, that I dare not. That Ram would punish me if I spoke the truth.
    “Is someone mistreating you?” she asked, although now she spoke to Ram and not to me.
    Yes, yes,
I wanted to cry.
Look at me, Mrs. Poll. Look at me and understand what Ram makes me do every night.
    Ram’s voice went up a notch. “She only gets wot she deserves if she don’t get on to her chores quick enough. It’s a father’s duty to see his daughter brought up right, last time I looked.”
    Mrs. Poll nodded. Although a slight color had started in her throat and now stained her cheeks, her voice remained firm and pleasant. “Yes. It is a father’s duty to bring his children up, to feed them and make sure they are clothed. And that no harm comes to them. I can assume, then, that you are carrying out your fatherly duties?”
    “You’re right,” Ram answered. “I am. Not that it’s your place to check on me. There’s no such part of the law wot tells a parent how to treat his child. And the church has no business interfering.”
    I bent my head over the tract, skimming the words as Ram blustered. The little tract held a verse of Scripture and announced Sunday afternoon classes for the children of the parish.
All those who attend will be served a slice of bread with jam at the end of the lesson,
I read.
    “And isn’t that a pity, Mr. Munt. That prevention of cruelty to children is mooted.”
    “Have you finished with your call, then? Because my girl here doesn’t have any time to dawdle. Give that back, now, Linny,” Ram told me.
    As I handed it to her, I asked, “There’s bread and jam for all?”
    Mrs. Poll stepped closer. “I see you’re able to read then, dear?”
    “Oh, yes,” I told her, looking up and handing her the tract. “I’ve been reading for a long time.”
And do you hear how well I speak? Can’t you see I shouldn’t be here, Mrs. Poll? Can you take me home with you?
I knew the ridiculousness of my thoughts, thoughts of a silly and very young child who didn’t understand life.
    “Well, then.” Her voice held a note of surprise. “Would you be interested in assisting in some of our Bible classes for younger children on the Sunday afternoons? It’s very simple, really. We read a passage to them and sing a verse or two of a hymn and talk about God’s plan for good works and good, clean living.” She reached out with an unconscious gesture to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear and I felt myself lean into her gloved hand. She kept her hand against the side of my head for another moment and I shut my eyes, remembering my mother’s touch.
    Yes, yes, I would like that,
I thought,
I would like that so much
and opened my mouth to say the words, but Ram spoke before I had the chance. “She ain’t got no time for that business,” he said. “I allow her to get on to church of a Sunday morning and say her prayers over her muvver’s grave, but then she’s to come on home.”
    “It’s only an hour, Mr. Munt, and I’m sure Linny would enj—”
    “As her father, I think I’m a better judge of how Linny should be spending her Sunday,” he said, standing. “Come to think of it, I’m the only judge of how my daughter spends her time. That’ll be all, now. And don’t be expecting to see my girl at none of yer afternoons.”
    Mrs. Poll moved toward the door at the obvious signal that the visit—if it could be called such—was officially over. “Well, then, I will bid you a pleasant afternoon, Linny. I’ll look forward to seeing you at least in church next Sunday.”
    I nodded, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, wanting to run to her, to put my ink-stained hands on her gloved