There were a lot of nice people in the world, and a lot of nasty ones too, like Hal Shaleman. Oh, she was glad he was dead. And look what his death had brought them: a fortune. Life was very strange. Here she was, not yet seventeen, and the mother of a baby . . .
She wasn't aware of falling asleep: It must have been after she had held her daughter to her breast for the first time. She couldn't recall being visited either by Bruce or Max; she could only recall someone taking the baby away, before she dropped into oblivion.
But now she was awake, and there was a face hanging over her.
'Hello, there.'
'Hello.'
'How're you feeling?'
'Sleepy still, but fine. Have you seen her?' The question was tentative, and Bruce answered straightaway,
'Of course; and she's a bonny piece, and lusty with it.'
She looked up into his eyes, and softly she said, 'The next one will be yours, Bruce; and the next, and the next, I hope,' and with that she put up her hands, one each side of his head and pulled it down to her, then pressed her lips tightly on his.
The mounting joy within him assured him that the brother was dead, quite dead, and that soon he would come into his own.
THE END
Table of Contents
PART TWO
The Tinker's Girl Page 34