Christmas Child: an absolutely heartbreaking and emotional Victorian romance by Carol Rivers (classic english novels txt) 📕

You or him?' He reached out his hand and Bella froze as a look of satisfaction crept over his face. Tilting his head, he shrugged lightly. 'You know, it was just a tap I give him, that's all. No more than he deserved for spinning your mother a pack of lies.'

'It wasn't our Terry's fault,' Bella protested in a whisper. 'It was Rita Moult from number nine. I heard her myself. She told everyone.'

'Rita?'

'She's all smiles and winks to you,' Bella burst out, 'but behind your back she told our Mum that you've had more dock dollies than hot dinners.'

'You lying little cow! She wouldn't dare, the bitch!'

Bella began to panic. 'I'm not lying, honest.' She watched furtively as the man thrust hesitant fingers across his sagging jaw his eyes moving slyly in their sockets. After his midday session at the Rose and Crown, he was breathing fumes. Even from where she was standing, Bella could smell him. Her stomach turned as he belched and rubbed his gut.

'Well now, you've got me all confused,' he grunted as his gaze travelled back to the boy. 'Let's see what your brother has to say for himself, shall we?'

Bella knew this was a trap. In a second or two he would swing round and catch her. But she couldn't let him clobber Terry again. Whatever he did to her, was nothing in comparison to what he'd done to Terry.

But this time he surprised her and with a powerful lunge he aimed his boot into the boy's hip. For all the ale in his belly, he delivered a blow that swept the human bag of bones along the filthy floor like a duster.

Without hesitating Bella threw herself forward and sank her teeth into the outstretched hand. Even as he screamed and pulled her up by her hair, she clamped her teeth tight, hanging on like a terrier. He shook her violently but Bella bit deeper, tasting his salty blood on her tongue. She imagined him dying the worst death possible like burning in one of the bombed buildings or boiling in oil. And the wanting of it was so strong it wasn't until all the air was punched from her stomach that her teeth finally parted.

'Look what you've done to me!' the man yelled in pain.

His eyes gleamed as he brought her against him. 'Fight me would you, Bella Doyle? I'll teach you, girl. See this?' He tapped her nose with his knuckles as he held her aloft with one meaty hand. His tongue rolled out to lick the dried beer coating his lips. 'This is for girls like you that need to be taught a lesson.' He pushed hard, sliding his fist over her cheek and finally downwards to her chest.

'Whisper to me, Bella. Say the nice things Uncle Jack likes to hear and it'll soon be over.'

All the struggle was gone from her now. Her legs and arms were suddenly weak as if she'd run up to the top of a hill and down again. It was a familiar pattern and she recognized it, knowing that no power on earth could now save her. Closing her eyes she tried to pretend she was up in the sky above the planes. Her mind began to draw pictures, taking her aloft on the clouds, flying in the blue ocean over the earth where there was release and freedom.

But just as he brought her against him, his fingers peeling away the layers of her clothing, the door flew open. Mary Doyle's faded green eyes flashed as she took in the scene before her. Fully attired in her working clothes, her chipped red nails dug into the worn black skirt that crinkled tightly over her stomach. Above her belted waist, a thin white blouse trembled on her drooping breasts. Slowly, a patch of angry crimson spread over her throat, creeping up into the lifeless red hair that fell on her neck. 'What in the name of Jesus is going on here?'

Jack Router stared innocently at the woman as he dropped Bella to the floor. 'She's an animal, Mary. She bloody bit me. Look! See them marks? All because I was trying to treat her decent.'

Laying still, Bella knew her luck could go either way now. Their mother was as likely to land him a punch as she was to believe him and blame her children instead.

'She was cursing me, Mary, love. I swear on me old mother's life. All I did was walk in that door and they gave me a mouthful before I'd even taken me coat off.'

Mary Doyle's gaze narrowed suspiciously. 'If you've lifted one finger against my kids – '

The man laughed suddenly. 'What'll you do? Chuck me out?'

'As sure as hell I would and you know it.'

'Ah, you drunken slut.' He pushed his face into hers. 'You'd do me a favour if you did. If I found myself a pigsty to kip in, it would be an improvement on this shit hole. I'm sick to death of you and your brats. I must've been mad to take the bastards on.'

'You were willing enough at the time,' she reminded him sourly, returning the crude gesture. 'You had nothing, were nothing! And if it wasn't for me you'd be six feet under and still scratching the coffin lid. You're a curse to women, you bag of shite.'

Bella gulped down her fear. Her wary brown eyes looked out from under the tangled curtain of auburn hair; she was waiting for the inevitable, a verbal and physical assault that had begun from the moment Rita, alias Mouth Almighty, had set her poisonous tongue free.

The first blow cracked aloud in the air. Jack Router stumbled, the heel of his boot landing heavily on Bella's leg. With a stifled cry she scrambled aside, dragging Terry with her into the only other habitable room of the dwelling. Here they crouched on a filthy mattress covering themselves with a threadbare blanket.

Bella buried her head against Terry's. He stank where he'd