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

slap on the face. ‘That’s for callin’ me a bitch.’ She gave Michael a smile. ‘I can tell yer his age,’ she said. ‘I found out he’s only just turned seventeen.’

His hand raised, Will swivelled round to face Michael. ‘You goin’ ter stand there? She bleedin’ attacked me. You should arrest her.’

‘Afraid you deserved that, for speaking to a lady in such a manner,’ Michael said, gripping Will’s arm again.

‘She ain’t no lady.’ Will’s mouth was sullen.

‘That’s enough,’ Michael said, thinking quickly. ‘You tell me where Dora Dummitt is, and I won’t book you for juvenile drinking.’

Will snorted. ‘I ain’t no juvenile.’

‘Where is Dora?’ Michael spoke softly.

Will gave a heavy sigh. ‘They’re yonder …’ He waved his left arm in the direction. ‘I reckon they’ll be stuck in the ice.’

‘Name of the village?’

‘Bugbrooke.’ Will grinned. ‘Or Buggerbrooke, as it’s known round here.’

Five miles on a bike in this atrocious weather. Michael groaned inwardly.

‘Thank you.’ He turned to the barmaid. ‘Thanks, Mavis. Just clip him another one if he acts up again.’

She grinned, showing a gap in her front teeth. ‘I will, officer, now I have yer permission.’

Michael nodded and made for the door. He took his cape from the coat stand and people started talking again. He turned his head to give a last look and they immediately stopped. He paused, and then he said loudly and clearly to the youth called Will, now sitting on a bar stool watching and smirking:

‘Just one more thing, Will. We take a very dim view of people who deliberately break the law, especially in wartime, so any more trouble from you and you won’t know what’s hit you. And that’s a promise.’

He shut the door behind him but not before he heard a roar of laughter from the customers. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or young Will Drake.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ronnie hated the idea that Dora planned to move on after they’d all had a morning cup of cocoa. She knew she was probably being over-cautious, but she wished Dora would stay put until they knew Margaret was definitely out of hospital. Should she say anything? If she was going to, she needed to say it now, because Dora was already preparing to let go.

She gathered her courage. Dora was emerging from the motorboat after having inspected it for being shipshape and ready to leave.

‘Miss Dummitt—’

‘What is it now, miss?’ Dora said impatiently, jumping down and onto the towpath.

‘I’m worried about Margaret.’

‘Well, don’t be,’ Dora said without looking up. ‘Get back ter the butty. We’re lettin’ go in fifteen minutes. You need to be helpin’ Angela at the tiller.’

‘She said she could manage on her own.’

Dora nodded. ‘Well, maybe she don’t need help but you could do with watchin’.’

Ronnie bit her lip to stop herself from saying she had no problem at the tiller and in fact liked that part of the job best of all. Dora was so contrary that she might not allow her to take the tiller on her own if she thought she enjoyed it too much.

‘I just wanted to ask – couldn’t we stay a couple more days – just to make sure Margaret’s all right?’

‘No, we couldn’t, miss.’ Dora flexed her fingers and glared at Ronnie. ‘I have a schedule ter keep and Margaret’s irresponsible behaviour in’t helped. There’s no more ter be said. So off yer go.’

She’d tried. For once Ronnie was grateful there were several locks to negotiate. It took her mind off Margaret.

Dora tilted her head upwards. ‘I don’t like the look of that sky,’ she said that afternoon. ‘It’s full of snow.’

‘How do you know that?’ Sally asked curiously.

‘Yer only have ter look at them clouds,’ Dora said. ‘Some of them have a yeller look and some pink.’ She grimaced. ‘That’s a sure sign, though I must say it’s a bit early fer the time o’ year.’ She looked at her watch as she puffed away on her pipe. ‘Three o’clock, near to. I don’t think we oughta go further. We could be in for a big snowstorm so we’ll tether the boats and tie up at Bugbrooke. Better safe than sorry.’

Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t come far today after a much later start. If there was any news of Margaret the hospital would soon find out where Dora was and let her know. And anyway, she consoled herself, no news was good news.

The afternoon and evening wore on. Jessica went to bed early with a headache.

‘You’re not coming down with anything, are you?’ Angela asked in a challenging tone.

‘If I am, I shan’t ask you to look after me,’ was Jessica’s retort. ‘Don’t wake me, either of you. I’ve taken a couple of aspirin.’ She pulled the blanket almost over her head and told Ronnie not to wake her until morning.

It was difficult for Ronnie to have any conversation with Angela. How she missed May and her chatter and cheerful smile – so different from Angela’s turned-down mouth. She wondered how Sally and May were getting on with Dora, as for once Dora didn’t need to find the nearest pub to sleep in with Margaret gone. The thought of Margaret made the niggling worry start again. She knew she was being silly. The hospital wouldn’t have said Margaret was improving if it wasn’t true.

Ronnie awoke from a night where she’d had little sleep, mostly being kept awake by Jessica’s heavy breathing and frequent thrashing of her long legs. It was only this last hour or so she’d finally dropped off. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she realised every part of her body was freezing cold, yet for a change Jess hadn’t grabbed more than her share of the blankets. Ronnie sneezed, waking the sleeping girl.

‘Wassup?’

‘Nothing. Except I’m absolutely frozen.’

Jessica put her head on one side. ‘Listen.’

‘I don’t hear anything.’

‘That’s just it. It’s completely silent. Where are the quacking ducks, the splashes of the otters … even the wind rustling in the branches? There’s just nothing.’

Jessica