Time Traveller Trilogy by Janis Mackay

Author:Janis Mackay [Janis Mackay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782502784
Publisher: Floris Books
Published: 2016-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Stop yer complaining,” a man shouted. He was arranging his vegetables in pretty shapes on the cart. I guessed he was her father. The girl went on silently stringing up the onions without even glancing up at him.

A woman called out, “Away to the butcher, lassie, and get us a ham shank. A good one mind, none of your scraggy end, tell him.” I guessed that was the girl’s mother and the girl seemed happy enough to lay down her onions and hop down from the cart. She skipped along the High Street, in no hurry to get that ham shank. I followed her, and skipped too. Soon we were skipping side by side.

“We’ll get a game of peevers soon,” she said, like she had known me for ages. “I got good stones for skiting.” She patted the pocket of her apron. I smiled and skipped some more. “Then,” she went on, waving to the men at the baker’s stall, “we can go down the river and play chuckie stanes.”

I worked that one out. Chucking stones. I smiled. “Guid,” I said, trying to sound like her, “that would be just grand.” The smell of fresh bread was making me feel light-headed. I unclipped the tiny silver chain from around my neck. It had belonged to my mother, but I knew she wouldn’t want me to go hungry. I swung it in front of the girl. “Where’s the best place to sell this?”

The girl froze and stared at the silver chain. “You pinched that, did yea?”

I shook my head and clasped it to me, and just to prove the point tears welled up in my eyes. “It was my own dead mother’s,” I said with a little sob. I wasn’t acting. I really did feel sad.

Next thing the girl wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “You poor lassie,” she said. “My own mother clips me about the ear for next to nothing, but if she died I would die too, of a broken heart.” I thought she was going to burst into tears.

“But I have an auntie,” I said quickly, “Jean Burns.”

“Yea mean that herb-wifie down at Walkershaugh?”

I nodded and the girl hugged me even tighter. “My mither says she could raise the dead with all her salves and ointments.” Then she whispered in my ear, “Donald Christie. Along next to the fishmonger. He’s always after a bit o’ silver. He’ll give you a pretty penny for it. Tell him Peggy Bell sent you, then he won’t cheat you.”

“Thank yea,” I said, and slipped away. I turned to wave then hurried along the High Street, darting in and out between stalls and smells and feeling so hungry I thought I might faint. I planned on buying buns with strawberry jam smeared on top. Loads and loads of buns.

It was easy to follow my nose and find the fishmongers. Phew! What a stink. Fish shops in the future never smelt so strong. I pulled myself away from the fish and worked out that the man at the next stall was Donald Christie.

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