A Sister’s Sorrow. Kitty Neale

from, she thought.

      George had told her the police walked along the market, so she decided it was probably better to stay away from there too. With Tommy alongside her, she searched the streets in the hope of finding a pawnshop. She’d never been in one before but remembered, when she was about Tommy’s age, she’d had to wait outside while her mother went in to sell a ring a man had given her. Sarah had been fascinated by the three brass balls hanging over the shop sign. When her mother had come out, she’d been delighted and had dragged Sarah to the pub, where, once again, she had been left to wait outside.

      She didn’t miss those days, she thought, as she scanned the shops looking for the three brass balls. Then she unexpectedly heard George’s voice.

      ‘Hey, Sarah.’

      As she stopped and turned, to her surprise, Tommy yanked his hand from hers and ran towards the man, clearly very pleased to see him.

      ‘Hello, little man,’ George said to Tommy.

      ‘We found more treasure!’ he squeaked.

      ‘Did you indeed? What did you find this time?’

      ‘We found a silver clock, didn’t we, Sarah? Show George our clock.’

      Sarah suddenly felt very embarrassed. George would never believe she wasn’t a thief and had found the watch in the Thames. She could hardly believe it herself.

      ‘Let’s have a look at it then, Sarah,’ George said.

      She fumbled in her pocket, then held out the watch on the flat of her palm.

      ‘Wow, this is a nice piece,’ George said, as he took the watch from her hand. ‘You say you found it? The same place where you found the bracelet?’

      She knew George would question her and she looked for suspicion in his hazel eyes. As he stared back at her, she couldn’t see any doubt, but suddenly felt awkward and looked at the ground.

      ‘I reckon you’ve hit lucky twice. The watch ain’t working, but I bet this is solid silver. Where are you taking it?’

      ‘I was looking for a pawnshop.’

      ‘I don’t think you’ll be able to sell it in there. Guaranteed they’ll think you’ve nicked it. Tell you what, save you getting into trouble, how about I sell it on my stall for you?’

      ‘Really? You’d do that for me?’

      ‘Of course I would, but it’ll cost you,’ George said and winked at Tommy.

      ‘I knew there’d be a catch. How much?’ Sarah asked.

      ‘A date … with me.’

      Tommy giggled, but Sarah was taken aback. How could she possibly go on a date with anyone? She had Tommy to look after, and she had no clothes or anything, not even so much as a hairbrush. ‘I’m sorry, George, but I can’t.’

      ‘Go on, Sarah, yes, you can,’ Tommy urged.

      ‘Shush, Tommy. Who’d look after you, eh?’

      ‘Tommy can come too, it’ll be fun,’ George said.

      Sarah still didn’t think it was possible. George knew nothing about her and had no idea they were destitute. Even if she could accept his offer, she didn’t really want to. He was a kind man, but she found it difficult to see past the dreadful scars on his face. ‘No, George, I can’t. Thanks for the offer, but can you tell me where the pawnshop is? I’ll offer it to them and the worst they can say is no.’

      Tommy looked disappointed, and George must have noticed too, because he patted the boy’s head and said, ‘Don’t worry, Tommy. Your sister doesn’t want to date me, and who could blame her, but we’re still mates and I can still sell that watch for you.’

      Sarah had upset George; she could see it in his eyes and his tone of voice didn’t sound quite as cheery, yet he was still willing to help her out, and she was grateful. ‘I really appreciate you doing this for us, but I think it would be fair if you take a cut from the profits of the sale,’ Sarah said, and held her head high. They might be penniless, but she still had her pride.

      ‘What, you mean like a commission?’ George asked.

      ‘Yeah, I think that’s what it’s called. That way, we both benefit from it.’

      George rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought. ‘OK, I can see that would work. What sort of percentages are we talking here?’

      Sarah’s eyes widened. She’d never understood percentages and didn’t know how they worked, but she didn’t want George to think she was stupid. ‘What would you suggest?’ she asked.

      ‘How about I take ten per cent, so, say I sell this for ten pounds, I’d take a pound and give you nine.’

      Sarah was pleased that George had explained the numbers to her, and she thought it seemed more than reasonable. ‘That sounds fair to me. Thing is though, George, I really need the money, so how quickly do you think you can sell it?’

      ‘I can’t make any promises, but I’ll give it my best shot and hopefully I’ll soon make a sale. Come on, let’s get back to my stall and you can help me work out the best way to display it.’

      Sarah walked through the market with renewed vigour and self-esteem. She wasn’t a beggar or homeless, she was a businesswoman. Once she had the money from the sale, she’d find some half-decent furniture for their new home, and then set her mind on a plan to keep the cash coming in.

      Then a light-bulb seemed to switch on in her head. If the watch sold for good money, maybe she could use some of it to buy stock for George to sell on commission. Yes, that could work, she thought, and remembered her mother’s warnings about keeping her legs shut. Whatever the future held, she knew she’d never sell her body like her mother did.

       Chapter 12

      The next morning, George was washed, dressed and ready to leave for work. As he ran down the stairs in the house he shared with his mother, he had a definite spring in his step. He knew Sarah would be coming by his stall today to see if the watch had been sold.

      ‘Morning, love,’ Lena said as George came into the modern kitchen. ‘There’s tea in the pot.’

      ‘Morning, Mum. Thanks, I’d love one,’ George replied as he sat opposite his mother at the kitchen table. He thought she looked very trendy in her close-fitting cream-coloured dress with her brown hair styled in mid-length waves. She’d always looked younger than her years, and didn’t have a grey strand on her head. Her smooth skin veiled her real age, and though she was over fifty, she could quite easily be mistaken for a woman in her early forties.

      Lena poured a cup from the teapot. ‘What are you so happy about? You look like the cat that’s got the cream,’ she asked, as she eyed her son suspiciously.

      ‘Nothing. It’s just a nice sunny morning and I’ve got a feeling today is going to be a good day,’ George answered, taking a swig of his tea.

      ‘So how come you’re wearing your best shirt?’

      George would have liked to have said to his mother that he’d met a beautiful girl and had fallen in love, but as Sarah had turned him down, there was nothing to tell. However, as his mother always said, he was the eternal optimist and he hadn’t given up hope yet. ‘Leave it out, will you? Can’t a fellow look good without getting interrogated?’

      ‘I know you, George Neerly, and it’s more than a bit of sunshine that’s put that twinkle in your eye! I hope she’s a nice girl,’ Lena said, and smiled warmly at her son.

      ‘She is, and her name is Sarah, but she ain’t interested in me … yet.’

      ‘Give her time, George. I know