Vagabonds

Vagabonds

Table of Contents

To three lovely women,

good friends whom I love very much:

Jane,

our delightful new daughter-in-law;

Madge,

a real trooper who is the salt of the earth;

Barbara Arnold,

who would happily scour the world for my books!

God bless them.

Part One

England 1885

Don’t be afraid

When dark clouds gather.

Somewhere, the sunshine

Is breaking through.

J.C.

Chapter One

‘Be off with you… we don’t want no beggers at this door!’ Cook’s round, homely face was full of disgust as she glared at the young woman who was loitering on the outer step. ‘Go on, I say… be off with you, afore I call the master. You’ll show a clean pair of heels then, I’ll be bound.’ She had been up to her armpits in flour when the knock had come on the door. Now she began frantically wiping her chubby hands on her pinnie and flapping the corner of it towards the ragged, offending creature who seemed unwilling to make a move.

The young woman stood her ground and eyed the agitated cook with bold black eyes. ‘I’m no “beggar”!’ she retorted, drawing the tiny infant closer into her arms and reaching down to take the frail hand of the small child by her side. ‘I don’t want charity, missus. I’m willing to do good honest labour for a reasonable wage… and I’m a lot stronger than I look, so don’t go thinking I’m afraid of hard, heavy work. I can do whatever’s needed of me.’ Molly was desperate, and it showed in her voice.

‘Oh, it’s work you’re after, is it?’ Cook’s temper began to recede as she quietly regarded the young woman before her. ‘These your two brats, are they?’ She let her small, round eyes rove over the two children; the girl she ascertained to be somewhere in the region of three or four years old, and the infant in arms probably not yet a year old. As for the young woman, she looked the most starved of all three. She was painfully thin, but had the kind of face that held a particular strength, with dark, striking eyes that somehow held a body mesmerized. Cook didn’t hold with folks knocking on her kitchen door, especially when they might want something for nothing. ‘Where’s the father of these two?’ she asked sharply.

‘He’s run off.’

‘Run off…? The devil he has.’ Cook wasn’t surprised. All men were the same in her eyes: either wasters or womanizers. The same thing applied whether they were beggars or kings. ‘Well, I’m sorry, young lady… there’s no place here for extra hands. Oh, we could do with somebody, I’m not denying that… but the master don’t see it the same way as them that have to do the work.’

‘Couldn’t you at least ask?’ Molly believed that beneath her sharp and unkind manner, the old lady might have a soft spot.