George was busy setting up his stall, but he couldn’t shake the thought of Sarah from his mind.
‘Penny for them,’ Roger called. ‘You look like you’ve been away with the fairies for the last half hour.’
First thing in the morning, George would normally be full of banter and larking around with the other costermongers, but today he felt subdued. If he’d been blessed with Roger’s fine face, he might have had the courage to ask Sarah on a date, but, as was usual for him, he’d let the opportunity slip him by and now deeply regretted it. He could have kicked himself. He just hoped she’d pass his way again soon. ‘Sorry, mate, just got stuff on my mind,’ George answered, and forced a smile.
‘Oh, yeah. That wouldn’t be the pretty little thing I saw you chatting up yesterday, would it?’
‘Cor blimey, mate! You don’t miss a thing, do you?’ George replied, his mood lightening.
‘You know me. You’ve gotta keep your eyes and ears open here. Seriously though, who was she?’
‘I ain’t got a clue. I saw her sitting on the kerb. She looked down on her luck, but all I know is her name’s Sarah and her little brother is Tommy and they ain’t got no parents.’
‘You silly sod, fancy not asking her out! She was a looker, that’s for sure,’ Roger said, then tossed a potato over to George as he added, ‘That’s you that is, a proper spud head.’
George caught the potato and laughed. Yes, when it came to women, Roger was right, he was a spud head, though he’d never heard anyone being called it before.
Sarah held Tommy’s hand as she marched determinedly to the local shop. She knew they had a notice board where people would pay a small weekly amount to advertise on a card, and she was hoping to find a cheap room to rent.
‘Are we going to see George today?’ Tommy asked.
‘Not today.’
‘Ow, why not?’ he said, sounding disappointed.
‘Because it’s more important to find somewhere to live,’ Sarah answered, though she was reluctant to spend her money before she knew when more would be coming in.
‘Are we going to live in a proper house then?’
‘I hope so, let’s see,’ Sarah answered as they arrived at the shop. ‘Wait here, I won’t be long.’ She knew there would be an array of sweets displayed in jars behind the counter, so, to avoid temptation, she thought it best to go in alone.
‘Good morning, Miss,’ the shopkeeper chirped, but Sarah noticed he hardly lifted his eyes from the magazine he was reading.
‘Good morning. Is it OK if I have a quick look at your notices?’
‘Yes, of course, just don’t go unpinning any off the board. You’d be amazed at the number of people who see something they fancy and take the card with them.’
‘I won’t, but do you have a pen and paper I could use?’
The shopkeeper looked up from his magazine and eyed her up and down. She knew she looked a mess, but she hoped her blue coat covered her scruffy clothes.
‘Here you go,’ he said, and took a pencil from behind his ear, handing it to her with a scrap of paper. ‘I shall want my pencil back when you’re done.’
Sarah thanked the man and scanned the notice board. There were plenty of adverts for rooms and flats, but most were too expensive. Then she spotted one that looked affordable. A ground-floor room in a shared house. It was unfurnished but at least it would be shelter from the cold, wet nights. She quickly scribbled down the telephone number before thanking the shopkeeper and returning his pencil.
The bell above the shop door rang as Sarah opened it to leave, but once outside, her stomach flipped as she realised her brother was nowhere to be seen. ‘Tommy,’ she frantically called, ‘Tommy …’ Her eyes darted up and down the deserted street, and she began to panic. It wasn’t like him to wander off alone, and she wondered what could have happened to him.
A middle-aged woman appeared on her doorstep. ‘Are you looking for the young lad in the army coat?’
‘Yes, my brother. Have you seen him?’
‘He ran off up the street with a couple of other boys. You’ll probably find them round the back. There’s an old warehouse there that the kids like to play in.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarah replied, feeling some relief. She ran along the street and around to the back of the houses, and soon found the disused warehouse, just as the woman had described. She noticed the windows were smashed, and, from what she could see, half the roof was missing. She didn’t think it looked like a safe building for children to be playing in, and could feel her heart hammering hard in her chest.
Sarah pulled open a metal door that was hanging only by its upper hinges. The concrete floor was littered with dead leaves, and she was startled by a pigeon taking off from its roost. ‘Tommy,’ she called again, and listened as her voice echoed through the derelict building. ‘Tommy, I know you’re in here, so stop playing silly beggars.’
She heard some giggling from around a wall, and young voices saying, ‘Shush’. As she turned the corner, she found herself locking eyes with Tommy, who was obviously oblivious to the fear he’d just caused her.
‘You little bugger,’ she said through gritted teeth, then stomped towards him, grabbed his arm, and laid three hefty whacks on his backside.
The other boys ran off, leaving Tommy sobbing.
‘I was only playing hide and seek with my friends,’ he cried.
Sarah suddenly felt awful for hitting the child. She’d never laid a hand on him before, and memories of her mother snapped into her mind. ‘I know, I’m sorry for smacking you, but you scared the living daylights out of me. You mustn’t ever run off like that again, do you understand me?’
Tommy nodded his head and wiped his snotty nose on the cuff of his coat.
‘And who are those boys? You don’t even know them. They’re not your friends.’
‘They is Jerry and John and they said I could play with them.’
‘Well, next time, you ask me first,’ Sarah said in a softer voice.
Both calmer, Sarah led Tommy back to the street and they walked in silence to the post office. She’d seen a red telephone box outside, and was keen to ring the number for the room rental, hoping it was still available.
Once they found the telephone box, Tommy squeezed inside with Sarah. ‘I’ve never been in a telephone box before,’ he said, and breathed on one of the small glass windows. The window misted up and Sarah watched as he amused himself by drawing pictures with his fingers in the condensation.
She was relieved when she got through to Mrs Preston, who had placed the advert, and found the room was still available. The woman agreed to meet Sarah immediately at the house, though she didn’t sound over-enthusiastic at letting out one of her properties to an unemployed woman caring for a young child. She told Sarah she’d require a significant payment of rent in advance, and, with little choice, Sarah agreed.
When they arrived at the terraced house, Mrs Preston was waiting outside. Sarah could tell by the woman’s attire that she was wealthy. Her gloves were pristine white, and on her grey hair she wore a smart hat with a diamond pin. Her car was parked outside, and Sarah noticed a man in an official-looking cap sat at the steering wheel.
‘Mrs Preston, pleased to meet you. I’m Sarah Jepson and this is my brother Tommy.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t have time for chitter chatter.’ She