Yuri stopped short very suddenly when she bit back her own retort about not having parents. It had been used to that being his trump card - orphans were ragged street urchins not little red heads in nice clothing. He had never met an orphan who didn’t live at the home, and if he had he had never really had the chance to speak to one.

’Wasn’t looking for a book’ he scruffed, scratching the back of his head with knuckles black with grime – his finger nails would have made a school mam faint. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to admit that he had been hoping to snag a few knuts, or even a sickle from her little bag`. ’What you need books for anyway – you ain’t in school yet?’

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