was very proud of the fact that she had brought me up ‘by hand’. Nobody explained to me what this meant, and because she had a hard and heavy hand, which she used freely on her husband as well as me, I supposed that Joe and I were both brought up by hand. She was not a beautiful woman, being tall and thin, with black hair and eyes and a very red face. She clearly felt that Joe and I caused her a lot of trouble, and she frequently complained about it. Joe, on the other hand, was a gentle, kind man with fair hair and weak blue eyes, who quietly accepted her scolding.
Because Joe and I were in the same position of being scolded by Mrs Joe, we were good friends, and Joe protected me from her anger whenever he could. So when I ran breathless into the kitchen, he gave me a friendly warning. ‘She’s out looking for you, Pip! And she’s got the stick with her!’ This stick had been used so often for beating me that it was now quite smooth.
Just then Mrs Joe rushed in.
‘Where have you been, you young monkey?’ she shouted. I jumped behind Joe to avoid being hit with the stick.
‘Only to the churchyard,’ I whispered, starting to cry.
‘Churchyard! If I hadn’t brought you up, you’d be in the churchyard with our parents. You’ll send me to the churchyard one day! Now let me get your supper ready, both of you!’
For the rest of the evening, I thought of nothing but the stranger on the marshes. Sometimes, as the wind blew round the house, I imagined I heard his voice outside, and I thought with horror of the young man who ate boys’ hearts.
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