Free Christmas Wish by Lizzie Lane Page B

law. Now what’s it to be?’
    Magda heard it all, relishing her aunt’s discomfort and the wonderful news that she would be going to school. Her aunt dare not defy the School Board.
    A chance glance across the street, and she saw the gleam of faces bobbing in and out of focus. Her quick little mind worked it all out. God bless Emily Crocker.
    ‘Do I have your assurances, Mrs Brodie?’
    ‘Yes sir. Of course sir.’
    ‘Good. Just so we understand each other. Next week, without fail. And woe betide any shirking on your part.’
    Once she’d agreed that Magda would attend the local school, the door was eased, creaking, back into its opening.
    Bracing herself for what she knew would come next, Magda took slow backward steps towards the darkest corner of the room.
    Bridget Brodie turned from the door, crouching like a cat about to pounce on a defenceless sparrow. Fingernails of chipped red polish clawed at her shoulders, gripped her and shook her like a cat does a mouse. She was shaken so violently, it felt as though her brains were spilling out of her ears.
    ‘You ungrateful brat! Went behind my back, did ya! Went and reported me to the school board, did ya!’
    The room was filled with her screaming voice.
    Magda kicked out in protest.
    ‘I didn’t tell anyone.’
    ‘Where’s my cane?’ Bridget yelled. ‘Six of the best, for you my girl. Six of the best for telling lies about me …’
    ‘No! You’re not caning me for something I did not do. Now let me go, you Connemara mare!’
    Aunt Bridget’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.
    ‘You little heathen! What was that you called me?’
    Magda kicked at her shins.
    ‘Animal!’ screamed her aunt.
    Magda backed away. ‘How could I tell anyone? I’ve not been out of this house until now and then it’s only to run errands or pick up the leavings from beneath the market stalls, or fetch half a pound of scraps for Captain.’
    Captain was Aunt Bridget’s cat. Not that he always got all the scraps the butcher gave her. They tasted fine in a stew. The cat made do with mice.
    Bridget screwed up her face until her eyes were mere slits beneath her brows.
    ‘I’ll find out who told on me. Mark my words! And when Ido, they’ll be for it. I swear that by Mother Mary herself. D’ya hear me?’
    Magda heard, but she didn’t care. That night she did as she did every night, knelt at the side of her bed and implored God to keep her family safe. Tonight she added, ‘And God, will you please bless Emily Crocker. She may be a whore – whatever that is – but basically she’s a good person.’
    Before lying down to sleep, she got out her pencils and paper and the new crayons Emily had given her. She also fondled what was left of the crayons she’d received that Christmas at the workhouse.
    They were in the original box along with the original gift tag. The writing on it said ‘To Magdalena Brodie, from everyone at Sycamore Lane Workhouse’.

Chapter Nine
Magda
    The following morning Magda raced into Victoria Square barely able to contain her excitement.
    Danny was serving a customer so she had to wait – a difficult thing to do seeing as she felt about to explode with excitement.
    The first thing she did was tell Danny that she was finally going to school. Her aunt would be in dire trouble if she didn’t turn up. The second thing was that she knew the name of the workhouse.
    ‘Sycamore Lane,’ she exclaimed, bubbling with excitement.
    Danny shoved his stub of a pencil behind his ear and looked thoughtful.
    ‘I know where that is. We could go there on Wednesday if you like.’
    Magda bit her lip. ‘Is it far?’
    He grinned. ‘If you’re asking whether it’s too far to walk, yes, it is. If you’re angling for the fare so we can both take the bus, then I have to say no.’
    Magda’s face fell. ‘Oh!’
    Danny pointed to a bicycle behind the stall. ‘We can go on that. See? I can pedal, and you can ride in the basket. I useit for special deliveries. Be ’ere