Chapter 10

‘Pound o’ flour, half dripping, three oranges, sugar, two eggs—’ ‘What ’ud that cost, sister?’ ‘Well, as you’ve got your own fowl, maybe about a shilling.’ ‘Fetch a shilling, Gillian.’ ‘Oh, father! Not a coney shilling?’ ‘Ah.’ ‘But that’s a music lesson, father!’ ‘Fetch it. It’ll learn you not to get dreamy and moithered like poor Emily. You be glad I’m too lazy to leather ye.’ Gillian retired to the kitchen in tears. Her aunt, coming out to ‘dry’ while she washed-up, was prepared to comfort the weeping penitent. B…