THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 2... Part 16.

A| continuation of my book

“Lord, ducks!” cried Old Ma Kelly. “You gave me old heart a fright. You aint one of me regulars, are you?”
“No.” said Mary. “I’ve just moved in next door, I’m in lodging with Silas Jenkins.”
“Ah, dearie and that’s a voice you have from me old homeland, to be sure.”
Mary smiled, her face sickly pale in the light from the window.
“And I wished I had never left home.” replied Mary.
The old woman let out a loud laugh, her breath streaming out.
“Well it don’t get no better and that’s a fact, dearie. I lost me old country ways a long time ago and I don’t care to have them back. Silas Jenkins, you say?” she said, suddenly changing tack. “He’s a dirty old devil and don’t you let him take advantage of your sweet nature. Anyway, what do you want? I’m closing up now so state your business, dearie.”
This style of suddenly breaking off from a direction of speech disconcerted Mary and she stepped back, momentarily forgetting what it was she wanted.
“Oh, it’s some gruel.” she said simply as she lifted her skirt and brought out the button-purse.
Turning her back Mary selected a copper coin from the purse before returning it under her skirt.
“That’s all? Just gruel? Not some of me ale I has left over?”
Old Ma Kelly poured out some gruel into a tin mug and leaned out of the window with one hand holding out the mug while the other, more forward waited for payment.
“That’ll be a farthing, dearie.” she demanded, then… “And another farthing for the loan of the mug. I can’t go around just handing out me tin mugs otherwise I aint making a blessed farthing. It’s me life doing the good Lord’s work to help you poor people but I aint caring to make myself poor again!”
Old Ma Kelly broke off, quickly pulling herself back into the room as Mary began coughing, holding a hand up to her face as she convulsed.
“Lord, ducks.” exclaimed the old woman as the coughing ceased and Mary clutched her chest.
“I’m sorry.” said Mary tiredly.
“It’s the consumption as got you.” confided Old Ma Kelly. “That’s right, dearie. Spit it out and the devil goes with it.”
Mary spat, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand before handing the penny coin to Old Ma Kelly, who now seeing the coughing fit over had put both hands out again and wiggled the fingers for the money.
“I aint got change of a penny.” she said. “But I’ll tell you what I will do for you. I’ll allow you to keep the tin mug for the change and that way you can keep the mug tied to your waist on a string and use it when you come here again. That way I aint having to charge you a scrap for lending a tin.”
“Thank you.” whispered Mary as she took the mug of gruel and moved away.
“It’s a crying sin to see a woman brought as low as that!”
She watched as Mary made her way next door.
“And it’s the likes of me good self as has the service of God in me who keeps the poor creatures alive!” she shouted as she slammed the window shut.

 

Next door, the street door hung lazily against the hall wall, the top hinge broken and never fixed so the hall was open to the damp and dirt of the murky air. Mary stood at the entrance, the mug of gruel cupped in her hands and stealing its warmth as she peered into the gloom. Seeing no-one in the hall and hearing no noise from the room leading off, she crept into the hall and began to move towards the stairs, her eyes always on the door. The boards creaked loudly and Mary froze, standing still as her heart pounded. The impulse to cough hung itself in her throat and she put a hand over her mouth to quell the urge. No sound came from beyond the door and Mary crept passed it, feeling the passage wall with a hand as she moved to the stairs and began to climb with hurried steps. Reaching the upper landing she stopped to peer over the broken banister into the hall below before moving to the door along the landing. She tapped lightly, looking over her shoulder as she did. There was no answer.
“Beth.” she whispered urgently.
A bolt was drawn back inside.
“Quick, let me in.”
Beth hugged the torn cotton petticoat to her body and stepped back as Mary entered the room and then hurriedly locked the door.
“He was up here.” Beth whispered urgently, her eyes wide and frightened.
“Who was?”
“That man. The landlord I think it was. Sam and I hid under the bed and pulled the blankets round the bottom so it covered us like you told us to. He went away.”
Mary hugged her daughter close.
“It’s alright to come out now, Sam.” said Mary, going over to the bed and holding up the old blanket so Sam clambered out.
“Quick! Get into bed. I have some bread and gruel.”
Beth and Sam climbed into bed and sat, taking the mug of gruel. Mary broke the bread into two pieces and gave the children half each.
“Break the mould away from the edges of the bread and dip it into the gruel, that will soften it.”
“Here’s some for you, mother.” said Beth, holding out a piece.
“I’ve already eaten. You eat it all up.” said Mary tiredly as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Reviews

[SquinklaPsyOps]

You did a very good job on the plot how you explained things.

I liked the descriptions.

[ron s king]

Thank you so much for your comment on this part of the story and I can explain there are many more pages to be read before the story ends. I do believe that the more descriptive a write then the easier one finds it to soak into the imaged picture.
Again, my thanks to you... Ron.