Back Riches to Rags
Chapters (41)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. PENGUIN BOOKS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Jenny clasped her hands together tightly in relief, as it dawned on her that she needn’t move, providing she could find the rent each week. A place she could call home! Gratitude welled up inside her at Ma’s thoughtfulness. The idea that she could be homeless again had been scary. Now she wouldn’t have to face that ordeal. ‘I’ll get the rent somehow and stay here, just like Ma wanted.’

The night had been surprisingly restful for Jenny. She had slept only in snatches since the attack and Ma’s death, but seeing Matt at the funeral, and knowing that he cared enough to come straight from the hospital, had made her spirits soar. He had looked so tall, and, although still rather drawn, she could see he would soon be back to full health again. The relief had been immense, and when he’d smiled at her it had seemed as if a bond had been formed between them because of their shared experience.

She swung her legs out of bed and stood up, shivering in the cold early morning. Getting up at five had become a habit, one she couldn’t seem to break. Slipping her coat over the winceyette nightdress, she began to wander around the house, still hardly able to believe that this was now hers. By leaving her few possessions to Jenny, Ma had made it clear that she wanted her to have a place of her own amongst the people who had taken a frightened, homeless girl to their hearts.

Standing in the middle of the front room, she gazed around. When she had moved in with Ma more than a year ago, she’d had no idea how much they were going to love each other. How she missed her – but she knew that Ma’s illness had frustrated her and made her miserable. Her suffering was over now, and perhaps she was with her husband and daughter once again.

With a sad smile she ran her hand over the back of Ma’s favourite chair as she passed it on the way to the kitchen.

First she lit the old black leaded fire, and then put the kettle on to make a pot of tea. Once that was done she sat at the kitchen table. There were plans to make. Through Ma’s generosity she had the chance to make a life for herself here, and that was just what she intended to do!