tell Mr Lowey I’ll have a nice lean piece of pork for the weekend; I’ll call in Saturday. Oh, and can you get me half a dozen eggs, and then you can play out, if you like. Only don’t stray too far, and if you can bear it, come in around noon and see how I feel. If this headache keeps on, though, all I’ll want will be a cuppa and some more aspirin tablets. Now can you manage all that or shall I get Mrs Rushton or Kate to give a hand?’
‘Of course I can manage, Nanny,’ Sara said rather hotly. ‘I love shopping, and I won’t let anyone cheat me. Not that they’ll try, because they know I’m staying with you.’
‘Right. You could call round for young Cammy – you and she get on well, I’ve noticed that.’
‘We do,’ Sara owned. ‘She’s taught me ever so many games, Nanny. Some of them are real good ones. But she’s the best skipper in the world, I should think – she can do all the fancy steps and when we race I keep missing jumps but she turns the rope as smooth and even as – as a wheel. Yes, I’ll give her a call when I go past.’
But when she got round to number five Snowdrop Street, she was in for a disappointment. Cammy had really bad toothache. She came to the door, her face swollen and lopsided, with a hot rag held against the offending cheek, to tell Sara that she was being dragged off to the dental hospital in Pembroke Place.
‘I don’t want to go,’ she confided in a breathy whisper. ‘But me mam’ll ’ave me guts for garters if I don’t gerron on the tram with ’er and go up there. And right now I woun’t care if they pulled me bleeding ’ead off, so long as the pain stopped an’ all.’
‘You would; it would hurt like fun I bet,’ Sara said. ‘I am sorry, though, Cammy. I’d come with you, but Nanny’s not well and I’m going to do her marketing and take care of her. She’s got one of her heads.’
‘You mek it sound as though she keeps spare ’eads in a cupboard,’ Cammy said, then winced and put a hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, gawd, don’t mek me laugh, it’s too bleedin’ painful! See you later, then, queen. Be good.’
It was easy enough to be good when you were doing the shopping, though Sara still found it exciting to go by herself along Stanley Road. She didn’t hurry, either, in fact you could have said that she dawdled. Past the tobacconist with its little tins of pipe tobacco, boxes of rich-looking cigars and packets of cigarettes with a handsome, if elderly, sailor on the packet, and on to the Misses Irving’s confectionery shop. A lovely window this, you could almost smell the sweets, though the toffees, liquorice walking sticks and sherbert dips looked rather dusty and neglected. But through the door you could see the big jars of sweeties, and the smell which came out was enough to set a child’s mouth watering.
King’s grocery shop came next. Quite interesting, with lots of advertisements stuck to the window glass so you could hardly see inside, and sacks of flour, oatmeal, haricot beans and lentils piled up against the wooden counter. Nanny shopped at King’s, so in Sara popped and bought six fine-looking eggs.
After that there was only the chemist, Mr Hanson, on. the corner of Fountains Road, and because she needed to go in she scarcely glanced in his window, though the big jars of coloured water caught the light as she passed them and looked, for a moment, like enormous rubies and emeralds. Inside the shop she explained about Mrs Prescott’s headache and was given a tiny pink bag with some tablets in.
‘Two, three times a day, with a nice hot cup of tea,’ Mr Hanson said. ‘She’ll be right as a trivet by tomorrow morning.’
And once over the road, which she crossed cautiously, conscious that she was unaccompanied by an adult, there was a good walk past the Stanley Hospital – she ran most of it – to cross Easby Road and reach her favourite shop.
It was a pawnshop – Williams was the name above the door – and his window
‘Of course I can manage, Nanny,’ Sara said rather hotly. ‘I love shopping, and I won’t let anyone cheat me. Not that they’ll try, because they know I’m staying with you.’
‘Right. You could call round for young Cammy – you and she get on well, I’ve noticed that.’
‘We do,’ Sara owned. ‘She’s taught me ever so many games, Nanny. Some of them are real good ones. But she’s the best skipper in the world, I should think – she can do all the fancy steps and when we race I keep missing jumps but she turns the rope as smooth and even as – as a wheel. Yes, I’ll give her a call when I go past.’
But when she got round to number five Snowdrop Street, she was in for a disappointment. Cammy had really bad toothache. She came to the door, her face swollen and lopsided, with a hot rag held against the offending cheek, to tell Sara that she was being dragged off to the dental hospital in Pembroke Place.
‘I don’t want to go,’ she confided in a breathy whisper. ‘But me mam’ll ’ave me guts for garters if I don’t gerron on the tram with ’er and go up there. And right now I woun’t care if they pulled me bleeding ’ead off, so long as the pain stopped an’ all.’
‘You would; it would hurt like fun I bet,’ Sara said. ‘I am sorry, though, Cammy. I’d come with you, but Nanny’s not well and I’m going to do her marketing and take care of her. She’s got one of her heads.’
‘You mek it sound as though she keeps spare ’eads in a cupboard,’ Cammy said, then winced and put a hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, gawd, don’t mek me laugh, it’s too bleedin’ painful! See you later, then, queen. Be good.’
It was easy enough to be good when you were doing the shopping, though Sara still found it exciting to go by herself along Stanley Road. She didn’t hurry, either, in fact you could have said that she dawdled. Past the tobacconist with its little tins of pipe tobacco, boxes of rich-looking cigars and packets of cigarettes with a handsome, if elderly, sailor on the packet, and on to the Misses Irving’s confectionery shop. A lovely window this, you could almost smell the sweets, though the toffees, liquorice walking sticks and sherbert dips looked rather dusty and neglected. But through the door you could see the big jars of sweeties, and the smell which came out was enough to set a child’s mouth watering.
King’s grocery shop came next. Quite interesting, with lots of advertisements stuck to the window glass so you could hardly see inside, and sacks of flour, oatmeal, haricot beans and lentils piled up against the wooden counter. Nanny shopped at King’s, so in Sara popped and bought six fine-looking eggs.
After that there was only the chemist, Mr Hanson, on. the corner of Fountains Road, and because she needed to go in she scarcely glanced in his window, though the big jars of coloured water caught the light as she passed them and looked, for a moment, like enormous rubies and emeralds. Inside the shop she explained about Mrs Prescott’s headache and was given a tiny pink bag with some tablets in.
‘Two, three times a day, with a nice hot cup of tea,’ Mr Hanson said. ‘She’ll be right as a trivet by tomorrow morning.’
And once over the road, which she crossed cautiously, conscious that she was unaccompanied by an adult, there was a good walk past the Stanley Hospital – she ran most of it – to cross Easby Road and reach her favourite shop.
It was a pawnshop – Williams was the name above the door – and his window
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