The Waterway Girls by Milly Adams

Author:Milly Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2017-09-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

7 November – arrival at Coventry

In the morning Polly’s eyes were sore from crying, but when Bet knocked on the motor’s cabin door she called as usual, ‘Come in.’

Bet just looked at Polly, and said nothing. Verity said nothing either then or when they had woken. Now, however, as she made morning tea, with extra honey for Polly, she gave it to her, patting her shoulder. Now, when Bet took hers outside for a smoke, Verity said, ‘When you need me, I am here.’

Polly nearly cried again, but instead sipped her tea, and ate the bread and honey that Verity shoved into her hand. ‘Eat the crusts, it’ll make your hair curl,’ Verity said. ‘It’s what Nanny used to say, and look at mine.’

Her hair was straight, with just the same two looped curls she manufactured with grips. Polly laughed, her throat raw. Verity grinned.

They approached Coventry on a cut whose only view was of slag heaps either side. When they were almost at the loading yard Bet sent Polly cycling along the towpath, saying, ‘Go ahead and pick up our orders, if you would, Polly.’

Many boats were tied up along the bank, and she pedalled past checking their names, looking for Leon’s Brighton, or his butty, Maudsley. Neither were to be seen, and her hands relaxed on the handlebars. She checked for Saul’s but again, no, of course not.

Her back tyre was soft, but it would have to stay so. She stood in line outside the office, keeping her bike with her, moving it along. The boater behind said, ‘Yer can rest it against office, Missus.’

She smiled, pulling her hat down round her ears against the chill wind, but told him, ‘I’d rather hang on to it.’ She didn’t know who had stolen her book, or the kitty, and she wasn’t going to lose anything else.

She dragged it through the door into the office. The manager, still wearing his hat, shook his head. ‘That should stay outside.’

‘Well, it’s here now.’ Polly rested it against her hip and blew her nose on her sooty handkerchief. She had never felt as filthy as she had during these last heaven knew how many hours. It felt like a million. The manager looked at her. She put her handkerchief back into her trouser pocket, and stared at him. In the end he raised his eyebrows. ‘You trainees get more arsey by the day.’

‘Indeed we do. Must be something to do with the bike saddle.’

The man flushed, and looked down at the form he held. She dragged the nibbled trip card from her pocket. He took it, checked the names, and handed her a packet of letters. ‘Here you are, post for Holmes, Burrows and Clement, sent to the depot and forwarded to us. We do our best to look after you, arsey though you are.’

It was Polly’s turn to flush. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered. He gave her a loading order. ‘You’re one of Bet’s babies, but growing up quick, eh? The cut,

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