Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End by Carol Rivers (best motivational novels txt) 📗

if she told him. He'd give her a wink and roll his lovely eyes. Micky didn't have airs and graces. Not like his brother, Ronnie.

'I'd like an 'ot dinner,' Terry said hopefully, his thin face and hollowed dark eyes under his thin black hair looking to Bella, like the face of an angel. A dirty, grubby, smelly little angel, but an angel none the less. She loved Terry with all her heart. She'd cared for her baby brother since the day he was born. Mary had brought him into this world with language so foul that even the old girl - who was always in at the deliveries - had turned away in disgust.

Bella remembered the violence of her mother's labour. As though she cursed nature and everything in it for her unwanted condition. But to Bella the miracle of birth had opened her young eyes to the first sensation of love. The blood soaked newspaper on the floor where Terry had suddenly appeared from between Mary's legs had seemed like a royal blanket of welcome. The old girl had slapped his silent body, all mauve and sticky with blood, and Bella had held her breath as she listened for Terry's first cry.

When it came, it was as if her own lonely heart had called back. And because there was no where else to put him, Bella had reached out and there he was! In her arms. This speck of life, staring up at her, with eyes like jewels in an old man's wrinkled face. She'd loved him from the off. And instinct had told her to keep him safe. So she'd kept him away from Mary until his pathetic screams had to be silenced by her huge, milk-swollen breasts. Mostly Mary had fallen asleep and Bella had held him there, snuggled up to the round fullness, his tiny fingers pleated around Bella's as he learned to suck.

Bella looked at her brother now. He didn't have a bad bone in his body. At least, what bones were left after the bashings he got from Jack Router. And that was what hurt her the most. What made her angry. What made her feel so powerless. She could take the man groping her. She made herself take it, so he wouldn't touch Terry. And the one thing in her favour was Mary's jealousy, her need for men as much as their money. She was still young and beautiful in her own eyes. Her daughter's youth was an anathema to her. She resented it. Jack knew that too and he played on it.

Another hour passed and dusk began to fall. The pretty snow flakes stuck to Bella's dark lashes and surrounded her brown eyes like tiny stars. They couldn't stay here much longer. Bella knew they would freeze to death. Terry's lips were blue and his face a ghostly white.

'Come on, we're leaving,' she told him, shaking him awake from the frozen doze he was falling into.

'Where to?' Terry whimpered as she hauled him to his feet.

'Back to the debris.'

Terry's big eyes filled with tears. 'I want to go home, Bells.'

In a grown up fashion far beyond her eight years, Bella took hold of her brother's shoulders. 'Listen Terry, might as well face it. We've got no home. Not when he's with her. Not when he thumps you like he does. And certainly not when they're both pissed. We'd be dead meat if we went back now and you know it.'

The tears trickled down Terry's cheeks. He said nothing, just stared at Bella and sniffed back the mucous streaming from his nose. She took his hand and squeezed it. 'I promise I'll find us a place to kip. And something to eat. All right?'

He nodded slowly and Bella took one last glance at the cottage. No sign of them coming out yet. She could only guess they'd drunk themselves daft. There would be hell to pay when they woke; in the absence of alcohol, the fighting and screaming would start. Bella had hoped that her mother would tire of the man, but for better or worse, she kept with him. And as far as her children were concerned, it was mostly the worst.

Shivering uncontrollably herself now, Bella hugged Terry to her. 'About a mile down the road is the pie and mash shop. In the blackout, no one will see us turn over the bins.'

Terry sobbed softly. 'I was sick last time we did that.'

'Listen,' Bella consoled him with her innocent logic, 'if pigs can eat that muck, so can we.'

He hung his head and she pulled him along the alley. It was dusk and the blackout was strictly enforced. There was no light showing, not even a full moon. But she knew every step of the way. When they'd eaten, they'd walk to the debris. She'd seen the remains of a burned-out house today. Some of its blackened rafters hung loosely inside. She'd take Terry there. It was better than sleeping in the open. And if the rest of the roof didn't fall in on them, that would be a bonus.

They could even make-believe they were in a posh house and were having a proper Christmas. They could pretend to open presents from under a Christmas tree. And sit round an imaginary fire opening them. She liked pretending. As they stuffed themselves with plum pudding, she would tell Terry the story about Joseph and Mary riding on the donkey and following a star. Mary and Joseph didn't have no home at Christmas either. In the end, the star led them to a stable where Mary had her baby in the straw. There was cows and sheep and the donkey, too. It was a pity there wasn't no animals on the island, only rats. Thousands of 'em, all over the place. Just as hungry as she and Terry were.

Bella hurried on, dragging Terry beside her. She was eager to investigate the bins at the back of the pie and mash shop