He Called Me Son (The Blountmere Street Series Book 1) by Arnold Barbara

Author:Arnold, Barbara [Arnold, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: B. Arnold
Published: 2011-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Paul Downston’s bedroom had blue striped wallpaper, on which were pinned pictures of blokes with funny hair, wearing strange clothes and playing guitars. Beneath one of the posters were the words, Rock’n Roll, which I supposed must have something to do with music, although Joe said it sounded religious to him. It was probably something to do with The Salvation Army he said, though they didn’t look much like blokes from the Sallies. I couldn’t imagine Paul Downston wanting pictures of the Salvation Army on his bedroom wall.

The Missus entered the room without knocking. Immediately, she padded to a wardrobe. ‘Clothes! Away!’ She said, and pointing to a chest of drawers, ‘Fold! Tidy!’ She looked at the posters and made a clicking sound, before pulling the blue bed cover straight. She left as quietly and quickly as she had come.

I shuddered at being so close to the Downstons. ‘I wish we were back in the men’s quarters.’ I blew on my new shoes in case a speck of dust had managed to settle on them, since I had last looked. ‘This place is like an undertaker’s. I don’t give a tinkers if it does have an inside lav. The long drop gets more air.’

‘If you don’t mind your privates getting chilblains.’ Joe bounced up and down on the bed. ‘Make the most of it. It won’t last.’

I climbed on to the bed and lay on my back staring at the ceiling. The room was twice the size of the one I shared with Angela in our flat in Blountmere Street. It had a yellow rug with blue circles on it, and a bedside lamp. They were things our bedroom never had.

The encroaching twilight transformed the apples on the tree outside into black orbs. Beyond the homestead, I could hear Murray whistling the dogs. Murray and Fergus would have lit the lamps. After Murray had fed the dogs and shut them up for the night, the two men would hang up their hats and settle in their chairs to read or doze in front of the stove. I felt as far from the men’s quarters as I did from Blountmere Street.

Sometime in the night, I heard Eleod stagger along the hallway to the small room at the back of the house that I knew was Elsie’s. I heard the door being opened, then closed again. There was a scuffle, and the rasping of bedsprings. Although they sounded muffled, I could hear Elsie’s cries, followed by Eleod’s grunts. Later, the door opened and closed again. I expelled a breath as I heard Eleod pass our bedroom. I lay awake for a long time wishing Elsie would stop weeping.

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