The Narrowboat Girl by Annie Murray

fierce. ‘I don’t want to go ’ome. I’d rather stay with you.’ She looked imploringly at Joel, who was standing with his arms folded. ‘ Please – just for a bit.’
    ‘Look – come up ’ere—’ He reached his hand out and pulled her up on to the bank, going down on one knee in front of her. ‘What’s all this, Maryann? You’ve got a mom and a dad . . .’
    ‘I ain’t got a dad!’
    ‘What about your mom?’ Ada said. ‘You can’t just stay out, can yer?’
    ‘She most likely won’t even notice,’ Maryann said mutinously. She gripped her hand round the little china cat in her pocket, felt her lip begin to tremble. More than anything she’d wanted ever, more even, she thought, than wanting Tiger, she longed not to have to go home that evening. Home meant Sal’s terrible silences and Mr Griffin being horribly oily and nice to her. There was something wrong with that after the way she’d shouted and raved at him and she felt as if she was living on borrowed time, that he was cooking up some punishment for her, made all the worse because she didn’t know what it was. And there’d be Tony with his big eyes, imploring someone, anyone, to take some notice of him.
    ‘I’ll run back in the morning,’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll go to school. And I could sleep anywhere – outside if I ’ave to!’ But saying this, she hugged herself, running her hands down her bare arms. It was chilly now the sun had gone down and all she had on was her cotton frock. She put her head on one side, looking with the full force of appeal into Joel’s face. He was watching her with a mixture of amusement and concern.
    ‘Sleep outside . . .’ He shook his head and she heard him laugh, his chest making a rustling noise. ‘Look, Maryann – this ent right. We’ll be loading up at dawn and then we’re off out of Birnigum again . . . You can come on the boat again – leave a message with the toll clerks. Let me walk you back to your house tonight and see you safe, eh?’
    She looked down at her shoes and wanted to cry because it felt as if Joel was babying her, as if she was younger than Ada. She swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes, annoyed at the fact her own were swimming with tears.
    ‘Please, Joel,’ she whispered. ‘Just once. I won’t get in your way.’
    ‘Go on, Joel – let ’er,’ Ada said. She seemed excited by the idea. ‘She can bunk up on the bench. I’ll go on the floor.’
    Joel sighed and pushed himself upright so he was standing over her, hands on his waist and she stood looking up at him like one might at a mountain. She could see his beard silhouetted round his face. She knew he was exhausted, that they’d had a long, hard day’s work and why would he relish the thought of having to walk her back home through unfamiliar streets, houses pressing in, to be greeted by her angry family?
    Eventually he said, ‘Best ’ave summat to eat, then.’
    Maryann turned to Ada and saw her grin, her teeth gleaming, and she smiled back, hugging herself even tighter with excitement.
    Joel lifted the lid off the stew pot and stirred the contents. Maryann went with Ada to stable Bessie for the night. On the way back Ada explained cheerfully that they had a bowl in the cabin and if she wanted to wee she’d have to go off and find somewhere. Maryann blushed.
    ‘I’d best go now,’ she said.
    Ada handed her the bowl and Maryann slipped off in the dark and squatted down near the edge of the canal. She decided she liked weeing in the open even if it was a bit nerve-racking – anyone might come along. She saw that the moon had come out.
    When she climbed down into the cabin of the Esther Jane over the coal box which was used as a step, she found a big smile spreading over her face. She was enchanted every time she stepped inside. However did they manage to live in a space this small? The house she’d grown up in in Garrett Street had been cramped enough, but here the whole living space was nine feet by