Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End by Carol Rivers (first e reader txt) 📕

Terry's schooldays were well and truly over. At twelve years of age, he still had the mind of a child, despite his tall, thin body. It was always Bella that woke him, dressed him and got him ready for school in time.

'What's he going to do with himself all day?' Dolly pressed. 'He can't stay at home, can he? Not with him around.'

Bella had been considering the problem for some time. Not that the cripple could easily get off his backside now. It was Terry she couldn't trust. Last week he had started a fire and Mum had threatened to have him put away in an institution. She threatened often enough, but had never seen it through. This time however, the bedclothes had gone up in smoke and Terry's trousers as well. The match had been a plaything to him. He wanted to smoke the same as everyone else. It must have been some kid at school who gave him the cigarette. She had smelt the smoke quick enough to extinguish the smouldering bedclothes. Ten minutes more and the fire would have finished the job the Luftwaffe failed to do.

'The man's no threat now.' Bella shrugged casually. 'All he does is sit in the chair or drag himself down the pub. If it wasn't for the crutch he'd never get there at all.' Ever since the night Micky and Ronnie had dispensed rough justice in the middle of a disused anti-aircraft battery at the back of West Ferry Road, their lives had changed. Bella smiled to herself as she thought of the drooling figure with a claw for a hand curled over his stomach, unable to touch her now.

'He still gives me the creeps,' Dolly said.

'Yeah, well, he's no oil painting, that's for sure.'

'And all squashed into such a small house - ' Dolly put a hand up to her mouth. 'I mean, it's not that bad, but it's – '

'A dump,' Bella said for her, nodding.

'Has your mum heard from the council?'

'There's a prefab empty down the road and she's put in for it.'

'D'you think she'll get it?'

'You never know.'

Dolly shook her head in wonderment. 'You're the last family in Bow Street now. Even old Mr Billings has gone and Rita Moult too. The council's given her a flat at the top of a big block in Dagenham, would you believe?'

'Yes I would,' Bella nodded, 'just to shut her up.'

The girls laughed. Bella coiled a copper coloured lock of hair around her finger. 'Your Ray be home, will he?'

'Yeah. He's just got a new job, with the PLA, as a guard on the dock gates. With a uniform and all. And the money's good too. Mum's everso pleased.'

Bella had no doubt Mrs Taylor was beside herself with joy at her son's new appointment. She was desperate for her children to do well for themselves and enjoyed asking people how much money they earned and what their prospects were. But she was good at heart and had always made Bella welcome which was a lot more than could be said of others.

'Have you got fixed up yet?' Bella asked, knowing that Dolly hadn't.

'No, but Dad said I should go up to Poplar town hall and make enquiries. He said he'd put in a good word for me. The thing is, I want to smarten myself up a bit before I apply. I've got nothing proper to wear. I thought about getting a cherry red suit to match my beret.'

Dolly had light brown hair and plenty of curves. But she was also short and in Bella's opinion the bright coloured clothes she wore didn't flatter her.

'You're good at typing and shorthand,' Bella said, changing the subject. 'Much better than me.'

Dolly blushed. 'Typing's about the only thing I am good at.'

'That's daft Dolly. You'll never get anywhere if you think that.'

Bella would rather have gone round Micky's, but she had agreed to go to tea with Dolly because it was their last day at school. Next week she was starting work at Dixons of Stepney, the furniture people and she couldn't wait. Not that she fancied her prospective job much, but it paid good money.

'I wish I was confident like you, Bella. I was shaking like a leaf at that interview and me fingers went in all the wrong places. I couldn't even remember the shorthand properly.'

'What was there to be nervous of?'

'I don't know. But I was.'

'You're as good as the next person, probably a lot better.'

'I never think that,' Dolly said, embarrassed, adding quickly, 'So what does Micky have to say about you working up Stepney?'

'Not told him yet. Anyway, why should he have anything to say on the subject?'

Bella knew exactly what her friend was getting at. Micky had wanted Bella to work for the Bryants "in the expansion of their business" as he put it, but she had refused. Not because she didn't want to, but because she did. She owed Micky everything. The way he had looked after her and Terry and even their mother, getting her a job as a barmaid at the Rose and doing up the cottage. But she felt she must show she could do something on her own. Her independence was important to her and Micky might not respect that.

'You know what I mean. Stepney's off the Bryant's patch.' Dolly raised her eyebrows as they turned into Chapel House Street. The Taylor's house was a mid terrace council house with a shining brass horseshoe fixed to the yellow painted front door. The windows all had lace curtains and to the left by the path there was a small square of mowed lawn edged with a border of flowers. 'Not that it would stop Micky from having something if he wanted it bad enough,' Dolly giggled as they stood on the front doorstep. 'And we all know what that something is, don't we?'

Bella's cheeks flushed fiercely. 'I'm fifteen, Dolly. Not fifty. And for your information Micky doesn't own me.'

'No, but he thinks he