life.’
Bridget folded her arms and fought to understand what Winnie was saying. She was offering her a sure-fire hit with the men that visited over the road. Why didn’t she name what she was prepared to offer?
‘So let’s cut to the bargain; how much are you willing to pay me for her?’
Winnie shook her head. ‘Let’s you and me get things straight, Mrs Brodie. I will repeat again in case you’re not hearing it straight; women come to the oldest profession in the world, not out of their own choice, but as a last resort. Some are made promises never kept by the men they thought loved them. Once they’ve fallen into the trap, there’s no climbing out – not easily anyway. But Magda has a choice in life. If she comes to me of her own free will, then that’s a different matter. Good night, Mrs Brodie,’ she said.
Bridget Brodie stumbled as Winnie pushed her roughly aside.
‘I beg your pardon,’ yelled Bridget.
Winnie cared not a jot for being rude. How could a woman so callously sell off a member of her family? How could she?
She’d disliked the Irishwoman even before she’d entered that gloomy house. She disliked her even more now.
As she re-entered her own establishment, one of the girls asked if she was all right.
‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,’ the girl remarked.
Winnie mumbled a wordless response. Her feelings and thoughts had turned inwards. If seeing a ghost meant feeling as though the past had come back to haunt her, then indeed she had. Tonight she would toss and turn in her bed with dreams that were memories and memories that turned into dreams. The baby, the daughter she’d lost, would drift through her dreams, though as a young woman on the threshold of life – and that young woman would be Magda Brodie.
Chapter Thirteen
Magda
At the dog track James Brodie took great delight in buying Magda jellied eels and boasting of how he knew a man who knew a man who knew everything there was to know about racing, most particularly dog racing.
‘He gave me a formula, he did. That’s a way of working out which animal is going to win.’
Seemingly the formula only worked for the friend of a friend, not for her uncle.
‘Never mind. Enjoy your jellied eels. Tell me what you’re going to do now you’re soon to be a young lady and leaving school.’
‘I’m not leaving. Not exactly. I’ve won a scholarship.’
‘Well, there’s a wondrous thing. So tell me about this school of yours.’
She told him about her one true friend, a girl called Susan Barnes who had ginger hair and a freckled face.
‘I wish I could do more for you,’ he said once she’d finished. ‘Now wouldn’t it be a fine thing if I could lay a few pounds on the next race and give the proceeds to you to put towards your future. Trouble is I’ve got the dreams of a toff and the money of a pauper. In fact I’ve only got two bob left.’He eyed the single coin sitting in his sweaty palm.
‘How about if I were to place a bet?’ Magda suggested.
‘You can’t. You’re too young.’
‘But you could put it on for me, couldn’t you?’
‘Of course I could. A tanner will do if you’ve got that.’
‘I’ve got a bit more than that.’
She pulled out the half a crown Aunt Bridget had picked from her husband’s pocket and given to her.
‘Half a crown. Can I choose the name?’
‘Well,’ he said laughing. ‘Why not? You can’t be doing any worse than what I’ve been doing.’
He took her to where the dogs’ names for the next race were listed on a chalk board.
Magda looked down the list. ‘That one,’ she finally said. ‘Fruit Fancy.’
‘Any particular reason for that?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really, except that I do know somebody who runs a greengrocery barrow in the square. Or used to rather. He moved away.’
He patted her cheek, grinned, shook his head and ambled off to place her bet.
Magda tucked into the last of her food.
‘Fancy your chances, girl?’
She looked
Bridget folded her arms and fought to understand what Winnie was saying. She was offering her a sure-fire hit with the men that visited over the road. Why didn’t she name what she was prepared to offer?
‘So let’s cut to the bargain; how much are you willing to pay me for her?’
Winnie shook her head. ‘Let’s you and me get things straight, Mrs Brodie. I will repeat again in case you’re not hearing it straight; women come to the oldest profession in the world, not out of their own choice, but as a last resort. Some are made promises never kept by the men they thought loved them. Once they’ve fallen into the trap, there’s no climbing out – not easily anyway. But Magda has a choice in life. If she comes to me of her own free will, then that’s a different matter. Good night, Mrs Brodie,’ she said.
Bridget Brodie stumbled as Winnie pushed her roughly aside.
‘I beg your pardon,’ yelled Bridget.
Winnie cared not a jot for being rude. How could a woman so callously sell off a member of her family? How could she?
She’d disliked the Irishwoman even before she’d entered that gloomy house. She disliked her even more now.
As she re-entered her own establishment, one of the girls asked if she was all right.
‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,’ the girl remarked.
Winnie mumbled a wordless response. Her feelings and thoughts had turned inwards. If seeing a ghost meant feeling as though the past had come back to haunt her, then indeed she had. Tonight she would toss and turn in her bed with dreams that were memories and memories that turned into dreams. The baby, the daughter she’d lost, would drift through her dreams, though as a young woman on the threshold of life – and that young woman would be Magda Brodie.
Chapter Thirteen
Magda
At the dog track James Brodie took great delight in buying Magda jellied eels and boasting of how he knew a man who knew a man who knew everything there was to know about racing, most particularly dog racing.
‘He gave me a formula, he did. That’s a way of working out which animal is going to win.’
Seemingly the formula only worked for the friend of a friend, not for her uncle.
‘Never mind. Enjoy your jellied eels. Tell me what you’re going to do now you’re soon to be a young lady and leaving school.’
‘I’m not leaving. Not exactly. I’ve won a scholarship.’
‘Well, there’s a wondrous thing. So tell me about this school of yours.’
She told him about her one true friend, a girl called Susan Barnes who had ginger hair and a freckled face.
‘I wish I could do more for you,’ he said once she’d finished. ‘Now wouldn’t it be a fine thing if I could lay a few pounds on the next race and give the proceeds to you to put towards your future. Trouble is I’ve got the dreams of a toff and the money of a pauper. In fact I’ve only got two bob left.’He eyed the single coin sitting in his sweaty palm.
‘How about if I were to place a bet?’ Magda suggested.
‘You can’t. You’re too young.’
‘But you could put it on for me, couldn’t you?’
‘Of course I could. A tanner will do if you’ve got that.’
‘I’ve got a bit more than that.’
She pulled out the half a crown Aunt Bridget had picked from her husband’s pocket and given to her.
‘Half a crown. Can I choose the name?’
‘Well,’ he said laughing. ‘Why not? You can’t be doing any worse than what I’ve been doing.’
He took her to where the dogs’ names for the next race were listed on a chalk board.
Magda looked down the list. ‘That one,’ she finally said. ‘Fruit Fancy.’
‘Any particular reason for that?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really, except that I do know somebody who runs a greengrocery barrow in the square. Or used to rather. He moved away.’
He patted her cheek, grinned, shook his head and ambled off to place her bet.
Magda tucked into the last of her food.
‘Fancy your chances, girl?’
She looked
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