A Sister's War by Molly Green (the reading strategies book txt) 📕

But she knew she was lying. For the first time in her life she knew what it felt like to be dumbstruck over some boy. She remembered his warm body through the leather jacket when she’d put her arms round him, holding him more tightly than she needed. The moment when she put her cheek against the back of his jacket, so lightly he would never have known. She took a jagged breath.

‘What would you like me to do, Miss Dummitt?’

‘You’d better go down and make yerself a cup of tea, girl,’ Dora said, ‘while the rest of us let go. And put him out of yer ’ead before it’s too late.’

Chapter Eleven

But Ronnie couldn’t get Will Drake out of her head. What was the matter with her? She’d never been remotely interested in boys before. But Will was more than just any boy. In truth he was a man. But he obviously liked playing around with girls and breaking their hearts, so it was just as well she’d never see him again.

She glanced through the porthole to where Jessica was feeding out the snubber from the stern of the motorboat.

‘Loop it over the T stud on the bow, May,’ Jessica called.

‘Right-o.’

‘Now tie it onto the motor.’

Sighing, Ronnie drained her cup, then feeling a little guilty she climbed up to join them.

‘Can I do anything?’ she asked.

‘Nothing at the moment,’ Jessica said, glancing up, ‘but Dora told me to tell you when you finally emerged – they were her words – that she wants you to come off the boat at Cowroast lock. Then you have to walk to Tring Summit which is a long muddy stretch … and if Dora says it’s long, you know it is, so be warned. She wants you to open the first downhill lock – on your own.’

Ronnie startled. ‘But I’ve never opened a lock completely on my own.’

‘Well, now’s the time to learn,’ Jessica chuckled. ‘It won’t be just yet because the pound is quite a long stretch before we get to Marsworth, Dora said.’ She turned to May. ‘Okay, May, let me feel it’s secure enough.’

Ronnie left them to finish the job.

Dora hadn’t asked any of the girls to open a lock on their own, Ronnie thought, as she mooched sullenly along the towpath, one hand stuck in her raincoat pocket, the other holding the two-foot iron windlass. Why had Dora picked her out? It was becoming a pattern and she didn’t know what to do about it. What would Raine have done? Maybe have it out with her, but Ronnie knew that wouldn’t go down with Dora, who would rightly say that she was the trainer and knew best how to do her job. Ronnie pulled a face. She had a strong feeling Dora’s suspicious eyes were on her even now.

A roll of thunder broke into Ronnie’s train of thought. She stopped and looked up at the overhead sky. The clouds were black and foreboding. She couldn’t hear any birds twittering as they normally did. Probably they were already bedded down from any oncoming storm. Unusually, there was no sign of wildlife on the canal, or even any boats coming towards her. She walked on, the wind lashing her face, making it burn.

Forcing herself to concentrate on all that Dora had taught them about opening locks, her heart sinking, she trudged along. How far was the damned thing? She must have been going at least a mile but there was no lock in sight. Maybe there would be a kind lock-keeper who would help her. She glanced behind her. Persephone and Penelope weren’t even in view. More worrying was a thick mist which blocked out the fields she knew were there. It was as though she were the only soul in the world. How much further to the bloody lock? Dora shouldn’t have told her to come off the boat so soon. She must have done that on purpose.

Ronnie was beginning to feel her temper rising. She squinted ahead. Oh, thank goodness – that dark shape must be it. It couldn’t be that far now.

Without warning the heavens opened, then a crack of lightning zigzagged in front of her, making her jump. It was followed by a roar of thunder. Rivulets of icy water ran down her neck, squelched in her boots, soaked her socks. Her hair hung in sodden corkscrews and the drops of rain ran into her eyes. The towpath became a mire and she felt herself sinking several inches in places. So much for the Wellington boots the woman in the shoe shop had insisted would take her through the worst weather.

She needs to come out here and see how her wonderful boots were holding up.

Finally, Ronnie reached the lock that had been built next to the open reservoir. Without warning a great gust of wind tore her hat off. Cursing, she attempted to catch it but it sailed on in front of her. She peered at her watch. It had taken her almost an hour to walk the pound. Surely Dora could have set her down at one of the bridges she’d passed so it wouldn’t have taken her this long. The woman was obviously still testing her. Ronnie twisted her head and stared hard through the rain. To her relief she could see Persephone slowly leading the way. She peered into the lock space which was empty. She’d have to fill it. She ran over the procedure in her mind. First open the paddles at the top.

The wind flapping her raincoat, Ronnie fixed her windlass onto the socket and turned the ratchet to slowly raise the paddle, wanting to shout with joy at the sound of running water. It wouldn’t be long before it filled and the boats could enter. Then to her dismay she watched as the water ran through the bottom gate, completely running to waste. What a stupid idiot! She should have