Free The Tin-Kin by Eleanor Thom Page B

pudding, is it?’ They say it in a funny voice, a posh, English sort of way, and we all start laughing. For a while I just can’t stop myself from saying ‘RohwlEE pohwlEE pudding’, over and over under my breath.
    The best thing about school is my teacher, Miss Webster. All the other teachers in the school look the same and talk the same, and when you see them up the street they just nod and say ‘Good morning,’ or ‘Good afternoon.’ They don’t stop to ask you how your day is. But Miss Webster’s different. She wears pretty, bright dresses and has bonnie curly hair like mine. Most exciting of all is that sometimes instead of sitting behind her desk, she perches like a bird on the edge of it. When she does that she looks like a singer or an actress in a film, not like a teacher at all. Secretly I want her to marry Uncle Jock. Then we’d all be related.
    The only thing I don’t like at school is the wee break. Mammy gives me a slice of bread to eat, but the others in my class have nicer things, apples and sometimes cakes. I eat my piece in the lavvies, where Miss Webster and every one else won’t see, and when my wee sister comes to school I’m going to make her do the same.
    But today I’ve done so well at the doors I might have a proper piece for school tomorrow. My Daddy’s got everything folk have given me at his feet. So far I’ve collected three pokes ofbiscuits, a liquorice stick, two apples, and even a copy of the Beano ! Of course, Rachel will have the half of all this, and wee Nancy likes to suck on the biscuits. I wonder if Daddy would be angry if I asked for the liquorice now, so I could eat it all myself.
    When we get to the end of the High Street I’m expecting us to go left and back up the road to the stables. The pony leans that way out of habit. But instead Daddy gives the reins a sharp tug to the right and we turn towards the shops.
    ‘Where are we going?’
    He doesn’t answer me, or maybe he doesn’t hear. Him and Jugs are speaking through their teeth, cursing about someone. Daddy looks serious and Jugs rubs his prickly chin in his hand for a while. Their eyes are narrowed at the road ahead, right through the gap between Hughie’s ears. I try again.
    ‘How are we going this way, Daddy?’
    Daddy tells me to shush, cause we’ll be home soon. He’s got a job to do and I’m to just sit tight, like a good girl.
    ‘Can we fetch Uncle Jock from the station?’ I go, cause I know he’ll be off work soon. Jugs makes a sucking noise and Daddy says that would be a very bad idea. I don’t know why Uncle Jock isn’t allowed, and I’m angry with Daddy and Jugs for always making fun of him.
    When the pony stops, we’re on a street with lots of identical wee square houses, a part of town we don’t normally go. Daddy and Jugs get down together. This time I’m to stay in the cart and keep out the road.
    Daddy chooses a house and opens the latch on the wee garden gate. Him and Jugs walk up the path to a white door. On the other side of the street a lady comes to her window and pushes back the net. She stares across at me for a few seconds, and I stare back at the Nosey Parker. The lady’s eyes darken, and she swipes the curtain closed. At that exact same second there’s a loud voice shouting something I don’t understand, or maybe I just don’t want to.
    Daddy begins to shout back, but before he’s even finished the man’s screaming.
    ‘CAUSE YER A BLOODY USELESS PACK AE DESPERATES!’
    The man is so fat he fills his whole doorway. He looks like Big Fat Joe in the Beano and he can’t be wise, roaring like that at Daddy and Jugs. He tries to close the door but Daddy sticks his boot in the way and it opens wide again. I hear him shout something about his wee girl being in the cart. Then Jugs reaches in and grabs the man by both arms, pushes him up against the porch. He forces him still, holding him tight till the big fat man looks like Baby Nancy when she’s bawling to do something