Free Dangerous Lady by Martina Cole Page B

she knew, she was lying sprawled across the pavement. Maura’s schoolbag had hit her straight in the side of the head. Next, her long red hair was pulled so hard she felt as if it was going to come out by the roots. Finally, she felt a kick on the knee that brought a shocked cry to her throat. She lay on the pavement staring up at
     
    Maura Ryan, amazed. Her three friends had already run off. As soon as Maura’s schoolbag had hit Margaret in the head, they had made their escape, frightened in case Maura decided on a repeat performance on one of them!
    Maura just stood there stunned, staring at Margaret lying at her feet. She had done that! She had knocked Margaret Lacey down! She could feel her chest swelling with the joy of it. She had actually defended herself against Margaret Lacey, the school bully, and she had won. She had done it alone without one of her brothers to defend her!
    Seeing Margaret begin to pull herself up, Maura’s natural kindness came to the fore. This would be all over the school tomorrow. She tentatively held out her hand to help Margaret up. The smaller girl looked at her long and hard before accepting it. Maura pulled her to her feet and began to brush down Margaret’s uniform, which was covered in grey dust. This was all done in silence, except for the occasional sniff. Maura saw the small swelling on Margaret’s grubby knee and felt ashamed of herself. She had kicked her very hard and Margaret was smaller than her. In silent agreement they walked together down Latimer Road, into Bramley Road and then through to Lancaster Road, where both girls lived. They stopped outside Margaret’s house first and stood looking at one another. ‘ Margaret sniffed loudly and said, ‘Come in if you want. Me mum’s at work.’
    It was the hand of friendship. Maura shrugged nonchalantly. ‘All right then.’
    They walked up the steps that led to the front door. Margaret’s house was the same as Maura’s except it had been made into flats. Margaret’s family lived on the top floor. Being large town houses they were three storeys
    high with large basements. As many as five families lived in them. As they made their way up the stairs the smell of cooking and urine seemed to overpower them. Margaret’s flat had no lock on the door. There was no need for one, there was nothing to steal.
    ‘You take off your things and I’ll make us some bread and Marmite.’
    ‘Ooh, lovely. I love Marmite.’ As Margaret made the sandwiches and a pot of weak tea, Maura glanced around her. The room was filthy, clothes and newspapers strewn everywhere. Unlike her own home that was stoved regularly, cockroaches were on everything. A particularly adventurous one with large quivering antennae was being slowly buried in the rancid margarine. Maura shuddered inwardly. The last few years her mother had been waging a war on all vermin, including bed bugs. Money was now plentiful in her home, thanks to Michael’s employing her brothers in his business, while the majority of the people in Lancaster Road were still no better off than they had been before the war. Margaret’s mother worked at the new Black Cat cigarette factory out in Harlow and her father still worked in Lyons bakery. Maura watched with distaste as Margaret flicked the cockroach out of the margarine with the breadknife. It landed on the floor where it lay on its back, its numerous legs doing cycling motions as it tried to right itself. Wrinkling her nose Margaret stepped on it, the crunching noise sounding like a gunshot in the hot evening air.
    ‘I hate them bloody things.’ ‘So do I.’ Maura’s voice sounded small.
    Soon the girls were eating their sandwiches and drinking weak tea. Neither of them mentioned what had taken place outside the school and neither of them would. From outside, the sounds of a game of cricket floated into the
     
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    hot airless room. Finishing her tea, Maura got up to go. Margaret offered Maura her little finger with a shy