Lost & Found
The gritty new drama from the Sunday Times bestselling author of Nobody’s Girl.Bullied by everyone around her for years, has Mavis Jackson finally found happiness? Or is it a case of going from the frying pan straight into the fire?BULLIEDTaunted by everyone around her, including her mother Lily, 15-year-old Mavis Jackson is devastated when her only ally, her father Ron, leaves home to beat his gambling addiction. Forced to walk the streets in search of junk to sell, the future seems bleak.BRIBEDUntil an unexpected fairy godmother arrives in the form of Edith Pugh. Struck down with a debilitating illness, she needs help around the home. In Mavis, she sees the perfect solution. Especially as she has ulterior motives…BLAMEDMeanwhile, Ron has fallen off the wagon and disappeared. Best mate Pete doesn't know where he is and has to break the terrible news. But does he have another reason for his sudden interest in the Jackson family?BETRAYEDBack at Edith's, Mavis revels in her new job. But when Edith reveals her true motives for taking Mavis under her wing, she faces a monumental decision, one which could change her life for ever…
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KITTY NEALE
Lost & Found
Published by Avon an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
This ebook edition published by HarperCollins Publishers 2016
First published in paperback by HarperCollinsPublishers, 2009
Copyright © Kitty Neale 2009
Cover design © Debbie Clement 2016
Cover photographs: Getty
Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9781847563521
Ebook Edition © May 2016 ISBN 9780007336869
Version: 2016-04-14
This one is for you, Abbie; my beautiful great-granddaughter who I feel could be destined for the stage. You are already a star that brightens our life and may all your dreams come true.
Contents
PART ONE
Battersea, South London, February 1954
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘School.’
‘Not today you ain’t,’ Lily Jackson told her daughter. ‘Take the pram out and go over to Chelsea again. I need some decent stuff for a change and the pickings are richer there.’
‘But I had two days off last week, and Dad said …’
‘Sod what your dad said. He hardly stumped up a penny on Friday. If we want to eat, finding me some decent stuff to flog is more important than flaming school. Anyway, as you leave in just over a month, you might as well get used to doing a bit of graft for a change.’
Mavis felt the injustice of her mother’s words. For as long as she could remember, after school and every weekend, her task had been to take the pram out, begging for cast-offs. She hated it, almost as much as she hated her name. It had been her great grandmother’s, but even that was better than her nickname. She knew her ears stuck out, that she wasn’t clever, and every time the locals called her Dumbo, Mavis burned with shame. Oh, she’d be glad to leave school, dreamed of getting a job, of earning her own money. ‘I … I won’t mind going out to work.’
‘Huh! Nobody in their right mind would employ a useless lump like you.’
‘But … but …’
‘But nothing. Now don’t just stand there. Get a move on.’
‘Can … can I take some grub with me?’
‘Yeah, I suppose so, but there’s only bread and dripping.’
Mavis hurried to cut two thick chunks of bread, spread them with dripping and, after filling an old lemonade bottle with water from the tap, she opened the back door to put them into the large Silver Cross pram. It was a cold, damp, February morning with a chill wind that penetrated her scant clothes. She hurried inside again to throw on her coat before wrapping a long, hand-knitted woollen scarf around her neck. ‘I’m off, Mum.’
‘It’s about time too. Be careful with any glass or china, and don’t show your face again until that pram’s full.’
With a small nod, Mavis walked outside to the yard again and, gripping the pram handle, she wheeled it out into the back alley. It was a long walk to Chelsea, but Mavis kept her head down as she hurried along to Battersea Church Road. She was fearful of bumping into anyone she knew, especially Tommy Wilson and Larry Barnet, two boys of her own age who lived at the opposite end of the street. Tears stung her eyes. If her mother had suggested taking tomorrow off it wouldn’t have been so bad, but now she’d miss one of the only lessons she looked forward to. Her art teacher, Miss Harwood, praised her work, saying she had talent and encouraged her to think seriously about going on to art college when she left school. Of course, it was a silly dream, Mavis knew that. Her mother would have her doing something to earn money and would never allow it. To her, art was a waste of time and she’d never shown interest in any work that Mavis had taken home.
