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

‘I’m sure she can.’ Sally looked at Ronnie and May. ‘Like Dora said, you’re not allowed to join if you can’t swim. Unless she lied to Dora.’

Ronnie gasped. ‘Oh, no, she wouldn’t have.’

‘It’s perfectly possible. We may have to call the police.’ Jessica glanced at the others. ‘I think one of us has to go and tell Dora right away that she’s been gone at least an hour – maybe more. It’d better be me.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Ronnie said quickly.

‘Anyone got the time?’ Jessica said.

May glanced at her watch. ‘Twenty-five past nine.’

‘You, Sally and Angela stay here until we get back,’ Jessica ordered. ‘Don’t get undressed. We may all be needed to help search for her.’

Ronnie and Jessica were silent as they walked towards the pub Dora was staying at. Once, when they were only two hundred yards away, Jessica tripped and swore, but Ronnie shot her arm out and the older girl managed to keep her balance.

‘Thanks, Ronnie.’ She paused. ‘Look! Isn’t that Dora coming out of the pub?’

The moon’s light picked out the short sturdy figure, head lowered as she hurried towards them.

‘You’re right. Thank goodness. I was dreading going in.’

They waited for Dora to get nearer.

‘Don’t tell me you two are goin’ ter have a drink? Yer shoulda come earlier and joined the party—’

‘Angela showed us the letter Margaret wrote,’ Ronnie cut in before Dora could go on any longer. ‘When Angela left you and went back to the motorboat she said Margaret still wasn’t back.’

Dora’s unkempt brows drew together. ‘D’yer have any idea where she is?’

‘None,’ Ronnie said.

‘Has she taken anythin’ with her?’

‘Angela didn’t say,’ Jessica answered.

Dora stood stock-still. ‘Are yer sayin’ what I think yer sayin’?’

‘I think she may have had an accident,’ Jessica said. ‘She’s been gone ages. Even if you fancied a walk in this freezing wind, you wouldn’t normally want to be out for long, would you?’

Dora was silent for a few seconds. ‘We need ter get back straightaway.’ She spat on the ground. ‘Damn tobacco. Not fit to be sold.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘You go into the pub, miss, and call the canal police, and me and Jess’ll go back ter the boats and decide what’s best ter do.’

When Ronnie explained to the grinning man behind the bar that they’d lost one of the boat trainees his grin faded, and he nodded towards the telephone hanging from a wall.

‘Oh, yes, operator, would you get me the Grand Union Canal police?’ She cupped her hand round her ear to hear above the cacophony. ‘Thank you.’

There was a minute’s pause. Ronnie could feel her heart thumping.

Please hurry.

‘Could you say your name and your location, please?’

She knew that voice. Efficient, but with an undertone of concern. Oh, thank goodness. He would treat it urgently.

‘It’s Ronnie Linfoot,’ she managed.

‘Miss Linfoot – Ronnie. It’s Michael Scott here. Where are you?’

She couldn’t remember what the pub sign said. Taking her mouth away from the receiver she spoke to the barman, who was watching her curiously.

‘What’s the name of this pub?’

‘The White Hart,’ the barman answered. ‘Gayton Junction. They’ll know it.’

She repeated it to Constable Scott.

‘What is the problem?’

‘We-we don’t know exactly … One of our trainees is missing. She left a note to say the work didn’t agree with her and she was going home in the morning and sorry to inconvenience us. Nothing more.’

‘Her name?’

‘Margaret Webb.’

‘Do you know where she lives?’

‘I don’t know, but Dora will.’

‘How long is it since she was last seen?’

‘Um, probably’ – Ronnie glanced at her watch, trying to work it out – ‘roughly two hours ago.’

‘What does Margaret look like?’

Ronnie frowned. ‘About my height, thin, with long light brown hair she mostly wears in plaits—’ She broke off, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Something bad had happened to Margaret. ‘Oh, please can you come right away?’

‘I’ll get someone over immediately. Presumably you’re moored close by.’

‘Yes,’ she said, for some reason disappointed it wouldn’t be him coming.

‘Go back to the boat. We don’t want to be looking for two of you. I promise it won’t be long.’

‘Thank you.’ Ronnie set the receiver in its holder. She remembered how Margaret got herself into such a panic in the tunnel. She always seemed nervous and Dora didn’t help by the way she pounced on any of the trainees’ weaknesses.

Ronnie dreaded walking back to the boats on her own. Not because she was scared someone undesirable would step from the shadows and attack her, but because she was terrified to come across Margaret’s body. And when the towpath followed the canal for a hundred yards or so to the pair of boats, she had to turn her head away, so strong was the image of Margaret floating on her back in the cold black oily water.

Maybe she’s already returned, Ronnie thought. Wondering what the fuss is all about.

But when she dropped through the hatch of the motor where everyone had crammed in, Dora simply grimaced.

‘Did yer get hold of the police?’ she said, her voice quieter and more sombre than usual.

‘Yes,’ Ronnie answered. She wouldn’t tell Dora she’d spoken to the same constable who came yesterday with the sergeant to look for any black-market items. ‘Someone’s coming right away.’

Dora nodded. ‘Good. There’s not much we can do ’til they get here.’ She glanced at Sally. ‘Yer nearest the stove, miss. Put the kettle on and we’ll have a cuppa. And don’t start worryin’ ’til we know somethin’ definite.’

The bang on the side of the motor was so sudden and loud that it startled Ronnie. Her tea splashed from the mug onto the foldaway table.

‘Police!’

Ronnie scrambled round the others to open the hatch to look into the warm hazel eyes of Constable Scott.

‘I thought you—’ she started.

‘I thought it best for me to come, seeing as I’ve met you all,’ he said, stepping onto the floor. ‘Now you’re all together I remember Margaret. Little waif of a thing.’ He asked a few routine questions and scribbled down the answers.

‘Have you