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

'Bella, we're only just scraping by. If another baby comes along, I don't know what we'll do.'

'Have you told Percy?'shook her head, unable to reply.

Bella gasped. 'Dolly! You're not thinking of getting rid of it?'

Her friend burst into tears and putting her hands over her face, sobbed in distress.

Why was it that people's lives became so complicated, Bella wondered? Dolly was expecting a child she didn't want and Joyce was desperate to have one. Gina deserved to have Lenny beside her today, but he had vanished into thin air and she was forced into putting on a brave face.

As she heard Dolly retching inside the toilet cubicle, she decided to make Dolly promise to tell Percy about the baby; she couldn't take it on herself to make such a life-changing decision.

Chapter 24

The house and gardens were quiet enough, but Micky paused, placing a cautious finger to his mouth. The three men accompanying him stopped abruptly.

'What's the matter?' hissed Alfred Freshwater, clutching a Gladstone bag to his chest. 'I thought you said the gaff was empty.'

'It is. But I'm just making sure.' Micky narrowed his eyes searchingly. But all he could see was darkness, the outline of trees and the curve of the wall. He would have to walk round it to approach the designated window. 'Wait here,' he ordered, raising his voice so that Terry and Lenny could hear him.

Micky stepped forward, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He was enjoying the rush of adrenaline more than he could ever have expected. What was there to fear after all? The duchess was long gone to her Scottish retreat, no staff remained in the house and as long as Lenny and Terry kept observation on the lane, breaking in would be a doddle. The sash window wasn't locked. He'd checked that only two days ago when he'd paid a visit. And unless the duchess had suddenly done a spot check, the entrance to riches lay before him. He pressed his back to the wall, pushed aside the ivy and trod slowly round. His heart did a little skip as a small figure darted out. The fox turned briefly to stare at him then slunk away.

Resuming his journey he followed the path and came to the point of entry. The manor was in total darkness, a woody silence enveloping the old stone and mortars. A bird screeched, another flapped and a rustle came from the trees.

Instinct flattened him against the brick. His heart jumped into his throat. Was there someone in the shadows? He closed his eyes and opened them. The woolly hat he was wearing was making him hot. Sweat trickled down from his forehead. He should have worn a vest only, not all this clobber. What was over there in the darkness?

Gradually his eyes adjusted to the shape of a bush, its leaves waving in the September breeze. He licked his dry lips. Making his way along the border he came to the window. Sliding on his gloves, he pressed his fingers against the frame. For a moment he had another horrible shock. It was stuck. Then wiping the sweat from his lip, he composed himself. Taking a jemmy from his pocket his slid the tip into the space between frame and sash, careful not to damage the wood. With gentle pressure it released.

Ducking his head inside he listened. Not a dicky bird. He couldn't see a thing, but torches would take care of that.

He made his way back. 'All clear,' he whispered to the three men.

They crept to the window. 'In you go, Alf. You know where it is, under the ugliest mug you'll ever clock. Lenny, stay here and keep watch. Terry, follow me up the drive.'

Terry trudged slowly behind him. Micky wondered why the boy had to make so much noise as his big boots scuffed the gravel. He was still as daft as a brush, but at least he could be relied on to do as he was told. Micky stopped when they reached the gates. 'Now, you know what to do. Walk down the lane to the cottage. Watch that front door as if your life depended upon it. The old man won't stir after a week's slog at the manor. On Saturday's he's knackered, goes down the pub and comes home to put his feet up in front of the fire. I've been sussing him out on the quiet for over a month now and his routine never changes.' Micky took a deep breath. 'But if he ventures out for some reason and it looks like he's coming this way, leg it back to the car and alert Milo. He's parked in the bushes where we left him, right?' Micky gestured the opposite direction. 'Milo will give us a blast on the horn, like we practised at the garage, right?'

Terry nodded silently, his face hidden under the balaclava.

'You got that straight?' Micky asked again. 'You just got to watch the cottage.'

'Yer, Micky.'

'Good lad. Now off you go and after this is all over I'll bung you a tenner all to yourself.'

Terry sniffed loudly. 'Terry needs a pee.'

Micky gave a little groan. 'I might have known it! Look go in them bushes and be quiet about it.' He gave him a little push in the right direction and then when he could no longer hear Terry's footsteps, he made his way back down the drive.

Lenny was still standing by the window. 'Struth!' he gasped and visibly jumped as Micky appeared from the shadows. 'You scared the shit of me.'

'Calm down, Lenny. I told you, this is going to be a doddle.'

Lenny looked nervously around him. 'I don't like it here.'

'Why?'

'It's too - easy. I mean, no dogs or guards or anything.'

'She hates dogs and she only trusts the old bloke down the road to look after the place and even in his case, it's