I’d scramble for them on the floor and fly home as fast as I could, dreading the next visit.
Another woman in the area, Mrs Hindley, was worse. She made toffee-apples and sold them door-to-door for two pence. As a sideline she lent money, though not for any financial reasons. She was a well-known gossip and lending gave her the material she needed. Her biggest thrill was telling the world who owed her what and who couldn’t pay her back.
Mrs Hindley tried to ignore me. I’d tell her we had no food, that the rent was due and that we’d be evicted… I told her the most heart-rending tales that my young imagination could create. Of course she just slammed the back door in my face.
A change of tactics was needed, so I kicked her back door repeatedly until she got so cross that she flung money out just to be rid of me
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