Free Never Look Back by Lesley Pearse

looking for sweet-faced girls to debauch, young gentlemen prowling the streets searching for innocents to seduce. But how could he warn her of these dangers without tainting her mind?
    ‘Your mother would want this for you,’ he murmured against her hair. Just the clean smell of her reminded him poignantly of Nell. ‘She’d be so proud of you.’
    Matilda stayed in the safety of his arms, sensing the conflict inside him and loving him still more because he was so strong. ‘Will you come with me on Sunday?’ she whispered.
    ‘’Course I will,’ he whispered back. ‘I’ll polish up me boots and put a clean shirt on for it. And if I don’t like the looks of ’em, I’ll bring you straight back.’
    On Sunday morning Matilda woke to the sound of church bells. She had gone to bed last night brimming over with joy that itwas probably her last one in Finders Court. But now as she saw a dust-filled sunbeam slanting on to the foot of the bed, and knew she was seeing it for the last time, all at once she felt very scared and she wasn’t so sure she wanted the Milsons to take her on.
    She might only be a lowly flower-girl to people like them, but here in the court she was treated with respect. Being literate set her apart, people often called on her to read or write something for them, and that made her feel good about herself. Here too there was always someone to call on in times of trouble, there were neighbours who remembered her mother with fondness and looked up to her father. Who would she turn to in Primrose Hill?
    She lay in bed listening to the sound of her brothers’ and father’s breathing, and reminded herself that tonight she would be sleeping alone, in a room where rats, mice, bugs and lice would never dare enter. After today she would never again have to use the stinking privy down in the yard, she had seen the Milsons’ one and it was as clean and sweet-smelling as their kitchen. She would never go hungry, wear boots with holes, or stand for hours on icy streets until her hands and feet were numb. So maybe Mrs Milson would be hard on her until she learned her ways, and she didn’t much fancy the idea of being forced to pray and study the Scriptures, but it couldn’t be worse than getting up at four in the morning to walk to Covent Garden.
    At half past twelve Matilda was ready to leave. She had so little to take with her, a spare shift and a petticoat bundled up in her pinafore, and two shillings in her pocket. She had made a pot of porridge for them all and fried some bacon, yet she was barely able to eat hers for a lump in her throat. The dishes and porridge pot were washed, the beds tidied and the floor swept. Her empty flower-basket sat in the corner silently reproaching her.
    Luke and George were sitting on the bench intently watching their father shave. They were both wearing the new shirts and breeches he had bought them in Rosemary Lane the previous afternoon. The clothes might only be second-hand, but they were clean and unpatched, and for once the boys looked decent, even if they wouldn’t stay clean for long.
    ‘I wish you’s could come and see where I’m going to work,’she said to them, ruffling their hair with affection. ‘The parsonage is so lovely, all clean and bright. Maybe if you saw it you’d understand why I keep on to you both to go to school, you see, the Milsons wouldn’t want me there if I couldn’t read and write.’
    Both boys had been unusually quiet and helpful this morning. Luke had fetched water and even emptied the slop pail, the first time she remembered him doing so without being asked. George had polished his father’s boots.
    ‘Will you come back to see us?’ Luke asked in a surprisingly quavery voice.
    ‘’Course I will,’ she promised. ‘Every chance I get.’
    ‘I’ll miss you telling us stories,’ George said, and his eyes were swimming with tears.
    Matilda was too choked up to reply to this, she hadn’t expected the boys to show any sorrow she