Free Darkest Before Dawn by Katie Flynn

canal kids have something even more precious than wonderful grounds and swings and slides. They have freedom, Evie, and that’s worth more than silver or gold.’
    So now Evie nodded her understanding at Percy’s words. ‘So what did your mam say?’ she asked curiously. She knew that neither of her own parents would ever tell a deliberate lie but she also knew that other people were different. Besides, if telling a lie might keep your family out of trouble, then she supposed that even her own mother might stretch the truth a little.
    â€˜Oh, she said Ron fell downstairs,’ Percy said airily. ‘It’s what she allus says. If she telled the truth, me dad ’ud murder her, which wouldn’t be much help,’ he ended. ‘Thanks for the butties, Evie; you’re a good kid.’
    By now they had reached the school gate and Percy was raising a grimy hand in farewell and turning into the boys’ playground. ‘Hey, hang on a mo,’ Evie said urgently. ‘I just want to ask you . . .’
    But it was no use. A large and corpulent teacher with a huge nose and a stained waistcoat had appeared at the entrance to the boys’ school. He was ringing a big hand bell and shouting to the boys above the noise he was making to get into line. Evie stood and watched for a moment as the boys scuffled and shouted, and then she made for her own gates, by no means dissatisfied with her morning’s work. She was now on excellent terms with Percy Baldwin and knew that he hated his father and would not be unwilling to tell her anything she cared to ask, particularly if she continued to provide him with the food he lacked. She decided she would suggest that he might like to come back to the flat one day soon for some tea and a game of snakes and ladders, or ludo. Her mother never objected to feeding her pals, and when she saw Percy’s skinny, half-starved frame would do so even more willingly.
    â€˜C’mon, Evie Todd, where’s you been? I were walkin’ wi’ Ruthie, talking about Christmas, ’cos our class is goin’ to do the Nativity play this year. Ruthie wants to be Mary, but I reckon I’d rather be a shepherd, ’cos you get to hold one o’ them white woolly lambs what the teachers make. They’re ever so sweet and cuddly; I wish my mam could make things like that, so I do.’
    â€˜She’s gorr’erself a sweetheart,’ Ruthie said mockingly. She was a fat and freckled girl with red hair and a round, good-natured face. ‘She were chatterin’ away to ’im . . . oh aye, they’s sweet on each other, I could tell.’
    â€˜He ain’t my sweetheart, he’s just a boy,’ Evie said dismissively. ‘But I felt real sorry for him; his dad punched him in the face and he’s got one helluva shiner. What’s more, his little brother’s in hospital, ’cos he . . .’ she remembered, belatedly, the story that Mrs Baldwin had had to tell the authorities, ‘’cos he fell down the stairs,’ she finished weakly.
    Annie and Ruthie grinned. ‘That’s what all the mams say when someone gets belted, ’cos if a feller gets took in by the scuffers he might lose his job and then there’d be no money comin’ in,’ Ruthie said sagely. Evie knew that Ruthie and her brother Si were the only children of the elderly couple who kept the corner shop two hundred yards further down Scotland Road. Her parents were pleasant, friendly people and Evie was sure they had neither of them ever raised a hand to their children, but she guessed they would talk in front of Ruthie, perhaps not realising how much she took in.
    â€˜Well, anyway, Percy ain’t no sweetheart of mine,’ she said firmly. ‘But he’s nice and it ain’t his fault his dad’s a mean old sod.’
    â€˜That’s true,’ Annie said wisely. ‘He’s awright