Free Pauper's Gold by Margaret Dickinson Page A

wistful. ‘I wonder,’ she began, and then stopped.
    ‘If you could get a lift back again one day?’
    Her eyes widened. ‘How – how did you know?’
    Luke’s expression softened, and he was no longer teasing as he said, ‘Because if I had a mam back there, then I’d be wanting to go back to see her sometime.’
    ‘You would?’ Hannah breathed.
    Luke nodded. ‘And if you ever want to – really want to – then I’d help you do it.’
    ‘Even if . . . even if you got into trouble?’
    ‘It’d be worth it – for you to see your mam,’ he told her earnestly.
    Hannah felt a blush creep up her neck and into her face. Tears prickled her eyelids. ‘Oh, Luke,’ was all she could say.
    He squeezed her hand. ‘We’d best be getting back an’ all now. Look, there’s a path here going right down to the farm. I ’spect it’s one the sheep have worn on
their way back home. Let’s follow it. We’ll go back this way. It’ll be quicker. We can run on the road.’
    Feeling a thrill of daring, they followed the path down the hillside towards the river. Hand in hand they ran across the footbridge over the water and up the lane bordered by the Grundys’
farm. A man stood in the yard, watching their approach. He took his cap off, scratched his head and replaced it. He moved towards the gate and leaned on his arms on the top of it.
    ‘Now where’re you two off to in such a hurry? What’ve you been up to, ’cos you’ve got “guilt” written all over your faces.’
    ‘A’ you Mr Grundy?’ Luke said as they stopped by the gate.
    ‘Tha’s right. And who’re you then to know my name?’
    ‘Your wife was very kind to us when we arrived the other day,’ Hannah said. ‘She gave us some lovely stew.’
    ‘Ah,’ said the burly man as understanding dawned. ‘From mill, a’ yer?’
    The two youngsters nodded.
    His expression softened. ‘Out for a bit of an airing, a’ yer. ’Spect there’s not much fresh air in that place.’
    ‘It’s very dusty, isn’t it?’ Hannah said. ‘With all the cotton bits floating in the air.’
    The man nodded. ‘I’ll give you a tip. Whenever you wash, bathe your eyes with clean water. A lot of the youngsters get trouble with their eyes. And if they get very sore, you come
and see my missis. She’ll give you some eye lotion to use, ’cos that old skinflint won’t spend an ’apenny on having a doctor visit if he can avoid it.’
    ‘Thank you, Mr Grundy. That’s very kind of you.’
    The man smiled. ‘Coming in to see the missis, ’a you? Nice joint of lamb we’ve just had for dinner.’
    The children’s mouths watered, but regretfully Hannah said, ‘That’s ever so kind of you, but we ought to get back. If we’re missed, we’ll be in trouble. And
it’s the best meal of the week today. Boiled pork and potatoes.’
    ‘On yer go then. I’ll tell the missis I’ve seen you.’
    Bidding him goodbye, Hannah and Luke began to run. They didn’t stop until they were in sight of the mill.
    ‘I reckon Joe and Daniel’ll both be in a huff with us.’ Luke grinned, looking not particularly bothered.
    ‘They’ll get over it.’ Hannah laughed. ‘At least, Daniel will. He’ll not stay mad at you for long. As for Joe – he can please himself.’
    Luke felt a warm glow. When they arrived at the back door of the apprentice house breathless from running, Hannah turned to Luke.
    ‘That was wonderful.’ Her cheeks were pink, her bright eyes glowing and her hair flying free. Luke caught hold of her and gave her a swift, fumbling peck on the cheek.
    Then, as they opened the door and burst into the kitchen, eighty or so pairs of eyes turned in their direction.
    Near the range, with her hands folded and her mouth pursed, stood Ethel Bramwell. Slowly, she walked towards them. There was not a sound in the room. The children, seated on benches on either
side of the four long tables, stopped eating to watch what was about to happen.
    Ethel Bramwell reached them. ‘And