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

Bella felt the wind tug at her scarf as she left the salon. Her new pageboy style was protected, tucked into the collar of her raincoat. Soon she was entering the dimly lit foot tunnel that led under the Thames to the island and was well in time to collect Michael. The Christmas party at school was being extended until a quarter past four.

It was growing dark already, the thundery skies over London making the late afternoon seem even wintrier. As she reached the steps of the exit, the chill wind blew hard and with it a few spots of rain.

Parents were gathering when she arrived at the gates of Saint Nicholas. Everyone was dressed for bad weather and the bright lights of the classrooms twinkled as the children ran into the playground.

Bella waved to Michael. He was walking with a little girl whose shabby coat was a washed-out shade of purple. Her red hair was blowing around her small face and her eyes were as big as saucers.

'How's my big boy?' Bella hugged Michael. His serious little face was transformed by Micky's smile and looking into his blue eyes, she saw her own, but his expression was all his father's.

'Did you have a nice party?'

Michael nodded. His little figure was buttoned up neatly in his gabardine raincoat. He always dressed himself carefully and laced his shoes, tying a perfect knot. 'This is for you.' He pushed a folded sheet of paper in her hands. 'We made Christmas cards today.'

Bella read the big scrawled words, "To Mummy and Daddy", that it must have taken great effort to write and inside was a Christmas tree crayoned in green.

'Thank you, darling. I'll stand it on the mantel piece when we get home.'

Bella smiled at the little girl who was still standing there. 'Hello. Are you in Michael's class?'

'Her name's Teresa,' Michael said. 'And she's new.'

'Teresa's a lovely name.' Bella looked round for the girl's mother. The playground was empty now, the cries of the children fading in the distance.

A few raindrops danced down on Michael's nose and Bella hoped it wasn't going to pour.

'Why isn't your mummy here?' Michael said, echoing Bella's thoughts.

' 'Cos she's ill, I spect.'

'Oh, dear. I'm sorry to hear that. What's wrong with her?'

'Dunno.'

Bella searched the child's uncared-for little face. Her fringe was cut as though she had used scissors on it herself. She had such a sad expression that it went straight to Bella's heart. 'Where do you live?'

'Collier Street.'

'We'll walk with you, if you like?' It was out of their way, but Bella didn't like to leave her on her own.

Teresa nodded happily and Bella watched the children join hands. They ran ahead, laughing and playing in the wind. Ten minutes later they all arrived in Collier Street.

'That's my house.' Teresa pointed to one of the prefabs on the left- hand side of the road.

Bella's heart sank. There was no light coming from behind the drooping curtains and the place looked deserted. She hadn't been this way in years and it brought back memories. Once the asbestos prefabs had been the height of luxury. Now they were in a very poor state, covered in mould with all their iron parts rusting.

Bella sighed reflectively. To think that once, when she had lived at Bow Street, she had envied Gilda Ellis and her family who had been allocated a prefab. Now they were no more than damp old huts.

Teresa pushed the front door hard but it was shut tight. So Bella knocked and they waited. When at last it opened, she smiled apprehensively, ready to introduce herself.

But the words died on her lips as she stared at her mother. Mary Doyle's long red hair had turned grey and she wore an old coat buttoned up to her chin. 'Jay-sus,' she exclaimed, as shocked to see Bella as Bella was to see her. 'What are you doing here?'

Bella pulled herself together. 'I walked this little girl home.'

Mary looked at the child. 'Have you been in trouble again?'

'No, Mum. Honest.'

'Teresa is yours?' Bella blurted.

'And why shouldn't she be?' Grabbing the little girl's shoulders roughly, Mary pushed her daughter inside the house.

Bella watched in dismay as Teresa disappeared into the gloomy hall. 'How long have you lived here?' was all she could think of to ask.

'A year and it's a year too long. The council pulled down the old place and dumped us in a rabbit hutch. We're worse off than we were before. Not that you would care.'

'That's not true,' Bella said offendedly. 'Me and Terry slept rough for a week before we had a roof over our heads. And only then because we asked Micky for help.'

'So it was him you went to, was it?' Mary scoffed. 'I thought as much. Done well out of my misfortune, haven't you, girl?'

'Me and Micky are married, if that's what you mean.'

'Well, a curse on that lying git, that's all I have to say! Him and his brother, who took all the strength from my man and left me in the shit.' She drew a long, smoke-filled breath. 'So you, Miss High and Mighty, can clear off and look down your pretty nose at some other poor sod that deserves your pity. I don't want you round here and neither does my kid.'

Bella was angry now. As Mary went to shut the door, she put her hand on it. 'I don't pitying you, Mum, far from it. I wouldn't waste my time. But if it wasn't for my Micky preventing him from bashing your head in, you wouldn't be here now, even though you won't admit it. He would have killed you, me and Terry too if Micky hadn't stopped him.'

Bella felt Michael's eyes on her. She was ashamed of what she was saying and the heated words of their quarrel. How could she explain all the things that had happened in the past? He was just a little boy and this woman was his grandmother. If Teresa really was Mary's daughter,