Read Lady Lightfingers for Free Online Page B

not about to sell myself for anything, and especially a book. I could easily . . . get one if I wanted one. Worse, somebody might think I stole this one from you, and you might say it’s true, unless I do your bidding.’
    Thomas laughed at her indignation. ‘My dear child, you have too vivid an imagination for your own good. This is a gift, pure and simple, and with no strings attached.’
    She dangled the string. ‘Then what do you call this?’
    He sighed. ‘I’m talking figuratively . . . that is a length of string, literally.’
    She examined it more closely before giving him a pitying look. ‘It looks like ordinary string to me.’
    He stifled his chuckle. Now was not the time to explain. He led her to the stall of a letter writer, an ageing Jewish gentleman. He placed a coin on his desk. ‘I would like to hire a pen and ink, if I may, and perhaps you would witness me giving this young woman this book, so she cannot be accused of stealing it.’
    â€˜The young lady may come to me for witness if needed,’ the scribe said with a smile.
    Thomas wrote on the flyleaf, A gift for my dear friend, Celia Jane Laws. May her dreams come to fruition in the fullness of time. With sincere best wishes, Thomas Hambert.
    Handing the book back to her, he said, ‘There, nobody can accuse you of stealing it now.’
    She ran a finger gently over the lettering and a grin flirted about her mouth as she hugged it against her chest. ‘It’s the best gift I’ve ever had. I’ll give you my first book free of charge in return . . . that’s if you still want it . . . you didn’t like the poem.’
    â€˜That doesn’t mean I’ll dislike everything else you write. I was too forthright, and I’m sorry if I upset you.’
    â€˜You didn’t. I know it wasn’t good, but sometimes the words rhyme and the meaning of the words don’t.’
    He offered her a little encouragement. ‘Actually, the more I think of the poem the more I like it. It worked very well at a performance level, you know.’
    â€˜Perhaps I should just stick to stories. They’re easier to write.’
    â€˜Have you started on the stories?’
    She nodded. ‘It took me nearly two weeks to finish a story, and write the poem for Benito’s show. Then I had to make a copy like you said. I liked writing the story best.’
    So, Celia had been bitten by the writing bug. It was a pity her education hadn’t continued, but what did he know about her circumstances? She was better educated than most people around here, in the basics at least. She obviously took every opportunity to earn enough money to exist on. ‘Do you have a title for your book?’
    â€˜Famous Fictional Tales from the London Slums.’
    â€˜An excellent title.’
    Her smile was like the sun coming out. ‘It took me a long time to think of one. My mother helped me. She thought I should leave the first word off, though. She said it was showing off.’
    â€˜It is in a way, but such initiatives must be taken if one’s work is to be noticed. If people think the stories are already famous they’ll buy them. I would rather like to meet your mother. Why don’t you bring her to my house to tea one day?’
    â€˜Which day?’ she said eagerly before her face fell. ‘Her visiting dress is beyond repair so she might be too ashamed.’
    â€˜It’s not her dress that will be doing the visiting, and I promise not to notice the patches. Bring her tomorrow if you can spare the time. Two p.m.?’
    â€˜My sister will have to come too. Lottie is only three, and too young to be left behind by herself.’
    â€˜Of course she is. I’m sure I can cater for Lottie.’
    â€˜Why do you want to meet my mother?’
    â€˜Because if we are to be friends she should be made aware of that friendship, and approve of it.’
    Her look assessed