In a Class of Their Own by Millie Gray Page A

Star of the Sea?” Carrie asked, wondering if she had been put down because the soup was ready.
    “Aye, a fine man. Kens the names of aw the bairns in Leith.”
    “Aye, even us Proddies.”
    Rosie smiled. “Mind ye, even though I’ve been dry for years, there are still them that like to mind hoo I let awbody doon.” Rosie hesitated before whispering, “Just like yer Daddy’s daeing noo.”
    “Could I get my soup now, Granny? Sam’ll be waiting,” Carrie deliberately interrupted before hearing anything bad being said about her Dad.
    “Richt enough and he’s turnin’ into a braw lad, is oor Sam.”
    “Tallest in the class, he is. And Granny – know something else? – Sam can pee further up the school wall than any other laddie. Just a shame he’s got dropsy now.”
    “Dropsy?” Rosie exclaimed. “Oh no! Hoo did he get that?”
    “Well last Monday he was puttin’ the morning rolls into bags to deliver to his customers when he dropped one on to the dirty floor. Manager told him to bucket it. So every morning now he has dropsy – drops a buttery for himself an’ a bran scone for Paul. Never drops anything for me or Hannah though.”
    Rosie shook her head in mock horror. “Dearie, dearie me, my hert was sair wrung for yer Mammy when Sam didnae get sittin’ for the bursary.”
    “But it was Mammy stopped him.”
    “Aye, I ken,” Rosie said with a nod. “That was because she couldnae dae onythin’ else. But it must hae broke her hert. Oh aye, aw she’s ever wanted was for ye aw to dae weel. Dreams, she does, of ye being doctors, lawyers and whatever. Puir soul, when her dreams for Sam and Hannah were comin’ true, she couldnae find the blinking bus fares.” Without another word Rosie stood up and started to dish up Carrie’s soup.
    As soon as the blue and white delft bowl was placed in front of Carrie she began to drool. She was in such a hurry to sup the scalding liquid that she spluttered some of it over the clean newspaper that Granny always covered the table with. Once finished she immediately stood up. “Got to give Sam his time off now,” she said.
    Before she left, Rosie asked, “Is that thin coat aw ye’ve got to stand in that lang queue wi’?”
    “Aye, but I’ll be all right, now I’ve had your soup, Granny.”
    But Rosie took down her own black woollen shawl from the nail on the back of the door, wrapped it around Carrie and fastened it securely with a hairpin from her newly-groomed hair. “Noo aff ye gang, my dear,” she said, opening the door.
    Carrie hesitated. “Granny,” she said, reaching up to peck Rosie’s cheek, “I don’t care if you did drink long ago. You’re the best soup-maker in all the whole wide world now. And what matters to me is that you aye keep some for me.”
    Rosie turned away. She didn’t want Carrie to see the tears springing to her eyes. “Here, lass, I’m forgettin’,” she said, hurriedly, lifting the steaming marrow bone out of the soup pot and laying it on to a plate. “On yer wey past tak that ben to Mrs Burgess, and mind an’ tell her I’ve only boiled it the once.”
    Carrie looked puzzled.
    “The docks hae been rained aff for a fortnight, lassie,” Rosie explained. “That means there’s nae sae much grub aboot. So we aw hae to stick thegether this winter or we’ll nae survive it.”

CHAPTER 6
CHRISTMAS GREETINGS
    The snow that had started falling at six o’clock, when Carrie left home to do her morning paper run, had now developed into a raging blizzard that swirled and eddied about her as she made her way to school.
    She had the comfort, however, of knowing that the door would be opened when she arrived at the school. The weather had been so harsh for the past five weeks that the children had not been expected to line up in the playground or huddle together in the sheds. They went instead straight into their classrooms whenever they arrived. And it was not unusual for Hermitage Park School to grant more than one half day