Free Never Look Back by Lesley Pearse Page A

was going. She turned away to look in the piece of broken looking-glass on the mantelpiece and tied the strings of the new straw bonnet Father had bought her yesterday, and struggled to control herself.
    Lucas put on his coat and brushed it down. The atmosphere in the room was as bad as if someone had died. ‘We’d better be off now. It’s a long walk,’ he said. Then, turning to the boys, he wiggled a warning finger at them. ‘Mind you keep out of mischief. I want you back in here by five o’clock and the fire lit, or you’ll get no supper.’
    ‘Promise me you’ll go to school and keep out of trouble,’ Matilda begged the boys as she bent to hug and kiss them.
    ‘We will,’ Luke replied, clinging to her like a limpet.
    As Matilda walked down the stairs with the sound of George crying behind her, she felt her heart was breaking. She knew that within half an hour they’d be off out with the other urchins in the court, and they’d never keep their promise about school, or keeping out of mischief. Sadly she suspected that within a week or two Father would be coming home to an empty, dirty room, and he’d lose the will to drag his sons in. How long would it be before he began stopping off in an ale-house on the way home, rough company and drink preferable to facing an empty, lonely room?
    Father and daughter hardly spoke as they cautiously picked their way through the maze of narrow, foul-smelling alleys towards King’s Cross. In this area Sunday was little different toany other day. Shops and businesses might be closed, but there wasn’t the respectful hush which fell on the rest of London, or any display of best clothes to set the day apart. Costermongers advertised their wares with strident voices, the hurdy-gurdy man and street musicians competed, ragged children played in the dirt and women yelled at each other from upper windows. Knowing that she was leaving all this behind her, Matilda’s thoughts see-sawed between elation and sorrow. It was ugly. So vile, cruel and noisy that she couldn’t understand why she felt even the slightest regret at leaving it. But these streets and alleys, however mean and ugly, were home, she had a clear identity here and knew what was expected of her. In Primrose Hill she’d be an ignorant foreigner. She almost hoped the Milsons had had second thoughts about her.
    Lucas was trying very hard not to liken this walk to the last steps to the gallows. But that was what it felt like. True, he would be free to retrace his steps later this afternoon, he would still have his sons and his livelihood, but his daughter would be chopped out of his life from the moment he said goodbye to her. It had to be that way, all or nothing, if Matilda was to make a better life for herself. He hoped he was man enough to let her go, that his courage wouldn’t fail him at the last kiss. He had pulled Nell down, he wasn’t going to repeat it with his Matty.
    But as they walked through Camden Town towards Regent’s Park and the air grew gradually sweeter, both their spirits rose at the sight of pretty cottages, fine houses and blossom-laden trees. Whole families were out in the sunshine, mothers in ribbon-trimmed bonnets on their husbands’ arms, their children dressed in Sunday best walking sedately in front of their parents for an afternoon in the park. Carriages and broughams rolled past at a leisurely pace, ladies in silks and satins sat under parasols, their escorts in top hats and winged collars.
    ‘It’s a great many years since I’ve been up this way,’ Lucas said reflectively, taking Matilda’s hand and tucking it into his arm just like a gentleman. ‘Your ma and I used to come out ’ere sometimes when we was first married. She liked to look at the grand houses and the ladies’ fashions. We used to make out we ’ad a little cottage by the park.’
    Matilda stole a sideways look at her father. He had looked so grim earlier, his weather-beaten face furrowed by frowns. Hestill