The Swallows

Part 2

Chapter 2- Dust and Bricks

 

Our new house in Piddleton was small, Danny and Emily’s I mean.

Emily was a very kind lady with brown hair and pale skin. She was slim in most places but her stomach stuck out abruptly;  which un-nerved me. Danny was a nice man as well, he was very tall and muscular. But his leg was funny, by which I mean he limped crookedly, dragging it behind him heavily.

 

It only had 4 rooms. The bedroom, the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom, it had lemon yellow walls in every room, with one bed, a toilet, sink and plastic tub to wash in, a old rickety table with 3 chairs, and a threading sofa  that stank of dust.  I wasn’t normally picky; but I was exhausted, sore and on the edge of tears and I wanted sleep. That was the main problem.

“I’m afraid you two are going to have to share the sofa, we didn’t think we would keep two you see, or else we would be prepared.” Danny said. He seemed quite shifty and embarrassed as we explored the plain and bare rooms. They had done there best to keep the place clean, the bed was made, and the tub, sink and toilet scrubbed and the wooden floor boards were clear of dirt. But the walls were damp and fading and the yellow had faded to sludge grey, the ceiling had black mould and almost everything was on its last legs.

“We haven’t much money” said Emily “But we have enough, and we have each other” Danny put his arm around her, and I was reminded bitterly of Daddy and Mummy.

“Of course” mumbled Charlie, I looked at him but he averted his eyes away.

 

We both ended up on the sofa that night, after a dinner of beef stew. The threads digging into our necks, covered in a moth eaten blanket and sharing a off white pillow. Though the house smelt clean enough, when I was lying under the cover all I could smell was sour milk and a dirty, sordid stink that ruptured my nostrils.

“Charlie?”

“Yes?”

 “I don’t like it here”

“I don’t like it here either” he whispered.

 I fell asleep soon after that, my hand clamped over my nose to shut out the smell.

I woke up with a stiff back that morning after I had been cramped over on the sofa. Charlie was already awake; his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

 

We had porridge with Emily, as Danny had left for work. She told us that he worked at a quarry, and when I asked what that was she told me he shifted rocks all day. It sounded like a rather pointless job to me. I thought of Daddy, Daddy was a writer so I was used to having around all day. He wrote children’s stories. Charlie read them to me sometimes and told me we must remember. We must remember back home. They were very moral stories. There was ‘The Sleeping Rabbit’ about little a little rabbit that lied through his teeth 24/7. There was ‘When Laurie Ran Away’ about a little boy who ran away from his parents, and ‘Little Britannia’ which was about our duty to our country, which was my favourite.

I always had a eye on Emily’s stomach. I secretly wondered if she was ill, it was bloated to the size of a ball and seemed to give her a lot of trouble. She could barely bend over and was always running her hands over the bump shielding it and feeling it as if it was her most prized procession.

“What is that Emily” I asked her as I could no longer look at it without knowing.

“What is what dear?”