Four Pennies and a Journey

By Violetta Antcliff

When her mother dies, Rosie Webster, a Vulnerable, destitute, homeless thirteen-year-old, goes on the run with nothing in her pocket but a ring, four pennies and a letter.

Hoping against hope the letter will lead to her salvation, she makes her way to the address on the envelope, Moorstone Manor, Richmond Yorkshire. But what awaits her when she arrives is totally unexpected, and for the next five years she has to live with a secret, shared by herself and one other.

The outcome of this impossible situation is unexpected, explosive and unpredictable.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Mar 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781619503076

Violetta Antcliff

Violetta Antcliff has been a member of the Nottingham Writers' Club for over twenty years. A winner of numerous short story competitions, her work was area short listed in Waterstone's Wow Factor story competition. Took first prize in Nottingham County Council short story competition with a story called "Irish Mouse Tales," which was published by Gypsy Shadow Publishing as an eBook in July of 2012. She has had her poetry and short stories read on local radio. Violetta is a prolific writer of short fiction, having written and published more than 40 short stories with Gypsy Shadow.

Book preview

Contents

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

Four Pennies and a Journey

by

Violetta Antcliff

Copyright © February 24, 2017, Violetta Antcliff

Cover Art Copyright © 2017, Charlotte Holley

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Lockhart, TX

www.gypsyshadow.com

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN: 978-1-61950-307-6

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: March 19, 2017

Chapter 1

Ding-dong-ding-dong.

Rosie lengthened her stride in a race against time. Just in front of her little Arthur Scrimshaw, head down, breathlessly panted his way towards the school gates. Rosie encouraged him along as she shot past.

Come on, Arthur, you’ll make it in time, she shouted.

The school gates were now no more than a stride away. Rosie could see the straight corseted figure of her form mistress, Ethel Falconbridge, stood bell in hand, arm raised, in the playground. Before that arm gave the final downward swing, she would be standing in line. As if reading her mind, Miss Falconbridge, raised her free hand and placed it over the clapper inside the bell, silencing it on the downward swing.

Through steel rimmed glasses, she glowered down her razor-sharp nose at Rosie.

Late again. Webster, she declared.

Little Arthur Scrimshaw scurried past and joined the end of his class line. For the amount of notice Miss Falconbridge took of him, he could have been invisible.

Sorry, Miss, I had to help my mum, Rosie whispered apologetically.

Excuses, excuses, I don’t accept excuses. You should know that by now Rosie Webster. You can stay behind after school tonight.

I can’t, Miss Falconbridge, cried Rosie. "My mum is ill, I can’t stay in after school.

A gasp of astonishment rippled through the lines at her daring to answer back.

Can’t! Can’t! There’s-no-such-word-as-can’t. Every word delivered was punctuated with a prod to Rosie’s shoulder. I’ll see you inside, my girl.

Rosie bit her bottom lip and stared down at her shoes. It didn’t matter how much trouble she got into, she couldn’t be late home tonight. For a long time now her mother’d had a persistent cough. It was something she had got used to hearing around the house, something she had readily accepted as smoke from the fire causing the irritation. But this time it was different, there were no reassuring words of comfort from her mother that it was time they called in the chimney sweep, or it was only another one of her troublesome coughs.

That very morning before Rosie left for school, her mother had made her sit down and listen to what she had to do if ever she was left on