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

to the man's boots drag over the cobbles. The same boots that had caved in Terry's ribs. Whatever they did to him, it wasn't enough in Bella's books.

Bella took her brother's hand and led him in to their mother's bedside. She lay on the bed, half-dressed, looking at them with dull eyes. 'Look what the cat dragged in,' she slurred.

'We stayed at Micky's.'

'Ah, so it was him and that brother of his, Ronnie Bryant, took my bloke off?'

Bella nodded, keeping her distance as she had learned to do.

'Well, I hope they teach that useless git a lesson he'll not forget. Lift a hand to me, would he? Strike a defenceless woman? Good luck to your Micky and Ronnie, girl. Now, stop bloody staring and get me my fags.'

Bella pulled Terry to the sink. She took the filthy tobacco tin from the draining board, brushing away the mildew coating its surface.

Mary Doyle rolled her own with shaking hands. 'Light me a match, girl.'

Bella did as she was told. Exhaling slowly, Mary sighed in satisfaction.

When the planes grew loud again Bella led Terry into their room. 'Terry's scared,' he sobbed as she made him lay down.

'Say your prayers, then. Jesus will take care of us.' She stroked his head and covered him with the blanket.When he was asleep, she went back to Mary.

'You know, that bastard was going to kill me?' Mary reminded her again. 'See what the fecking sod did? See this? And this?' She gestured to the many bruises and cuts over her body. 'All the same, he was no better or worse than other.' Her face crumpled as she coughed, falling back on the filthy pillow to stare up at the ceiling. Dust fell like rain as the bombs landed. 'Listen to their bloody racket!' Mary exclaimed without moving. 'I might as well stay in me bed. It's as good a place to die as any.'

As Mary fell to sleep, Bella took the lighted roll-up from her fingers. She pushed it down in the stained jar with the others and then went back to Terry. The bombs fell loud and heavy and the cottage rattled as she crawled beside him.

In the darkness she said thank you to God for the prayers that He'd answered. The man was gone and hadn't returned. But then she decided to stop praying when the thought occurred to her that it was Micky and Ronnie who had delivered them from evil tonight.

Not God.

Chapter 5

July1947

Bella tossed back her hair and slid her school tie from her collar. Squeezing it into her satchel, she smiled contentedly. It was the final day of school. She was free at last and more than ready to take on the world. Her full lips turned up in a smile. 'I can only stay till half past six because of Terry,' she said to her friend Dolly Taylor as they walked past the Newcastle Arms.

Spilled ale and musky tobacco wafted out from its doors and windows into the hot day. Bella inhaled the cocktail and felt a thrill. She loved everything about the island, especially in summer when the river was full of movement as the ships passed under the bridges into the heart of the docks. Bets were being laid that it was the hottest summer in years. Bella couldn't wait to be rid of her off damp blouse and purple blue school blazer. It had been worn many times before she had bought it for next to nothing at the market. Over the years she had altered her uniform so many times it looked what it was, a total mess. As soon as she started work, she was going to buy herself some pretty frocks and her pleasure grew at the thought of it.

'You're always rushing off,' Dolly pointed out, breaking the magic spell of the wonderful summer's day.

'Terry'll be on his own. He could get up to anything.'

'You know, I can't see your Terry going back to school after you leave,' Dolly remarked as they linked arms and turned the corner.

'He might.' But privately Bella had no doubt at all that 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