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

yous’ve only got wellies that might keep out the water but not the freezing cold.’

‘I’ll go,’ Angela said surprisingly. ‘I’ve got all the correct gear.’

She would, Ronnie thought. But she wasn’t going to let Angela go on her own. She had to get outside too. Breathe some fresh air. Stretch her cramped legs. See someone else besides Dora and the others.

‘I’ll help you, Angela,’ she said. ‘Jess needs quite a bit of stuff so I can help carry everything.’

For a moment Angela looked as though she was going to oppose the suggestion, but then she shrugged. ‘Okay, you’d better wrap up and bring a couple of bags … and your coupons would help this time,’ she added with a twist of her lips to presumably remind Ronnie of her previous lapse.

The two girls trod painstakingly through the snow. To Ronnie’s amusement Angela slipped more in her winter boots than Ronnie in her Wellingtons. The village was further away than Dora had implied. At any other time Ronnie would have enjoyed the walk, loving the sound of the snow crunching under the rubber soles of her boots, but her anxiety about her feet, which felt as if they were becoming more and more frozen with every step, took away any enjoyment. There was no sign of the snow melting, and by the look of yet another sullen grey sky there was no hope for any breakthrough later on. By the time they arrived at the village Ronnie’s feet were numb.

‘Oh, no, the shop’s closed,’ Angela said. She shook her head. ‘There must be somewhere else open.’

‘What day is it?’

‘Wednesday,’ Angela said.

‘If this place is the same as Downe, where I live, the whole village will be shut on a Wednesday afternoon – half-day closing at one o’clock.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘And it’s ten past.’

‘What on earth do we do? We can’t go back empty-handed.’

For once Angela seemed to be at a loss.

‘There’s the pub not far,’ Ronnie said, pointing to a Tudor building, ‘and that’s where I’m heading.’

‘Miss Dummitt won’t like it.’

Ronnie rounded on her. ‘You know something, Angela? I don’t care whether Deadly Dora likes it or not. I’m not wandering around and still not find anything. I’m going in to warm up my feet. And see if there’s anything they might be able to let me have. And you can please yourself whether you come with me.’

‘I’m going back,’ Angela said.

Ronnie turned without another word, so intent was she on thawing her poor feet. With extra care she covered the short distance to The Crown, then almost slipped on the step of the pub door. Grabbing a snow-covered bush to steady herself she opened the door and was nearly knocked backwards by the heat of the log fire roaring in the inglenook. The place was heaving – almost all with men. They stopped speaking as every head turned towards her. Ronnie gulped, wishing Angela had stayed with her. She shoved her hands in her pockets to stop anyone from seeing them tremble.

‘What can I do for you, love?’ the man behind the bar asked. He was a tubby man who wore a spotless white apron, and spectacles perched upon his bald head.

Face flushing with embarrassment she forced herself to put one lifeless foot in front of the other towards the bar, aware of her every move under the stares of the customers.

She swallowed. ‘I’m one of the boat trainees,’ she began, keeping her voice down, trying not to draw attention to herself, ‘and I’m—’

There were a few incredulous guffaws to those near enough to hear her.

‘You boat wenches are more trouble than yer worth,’ one man with only socks on his feet and his legs thrust out in the inglenook shouted. ‘Stuck in the snow, are yer?’ Without waiting for a reply, he said, ‘I s’pose yer askin’ for help.’

‘We don’t know what the girl wants, so let her finish,’ a man at the bar called out, then caught her eye and gave her a wink.

Ronnie’s cheeks burned. ‘We’ve almost run out of food,’ she said. ‘In fact, we don’t even have anything for supper. And the shop’s on half-day closing.’

‘And cold enough to freeze your ba—’ He stopped himself and chuckled. ‘Oh, dear – better watch me language. We’re not used to pretty girls coming in here.’

Ronnie drew herself up. ‘If you can’t help me—’

‘Why don’t you sit down, love, over by the fire, and I’ll get you a drink to warm you up. You look frozen to death.’

Before she could reply, he said, ‘I’m Bob, and I’m doing the cooking. There’s some meat and veg pie left over I could pack for you and your pals, but it’d be dangerous you walking in the snow holding a dish.’ His eyes fell on the man who’d stuck up for her. ‘Sid, could you help this young lady back to the boat when I’ve got her dinner ready?’

Sid’s face split in two with delight.

‘Oh, aye, I’ll see she don’t come to no harm … or the dinner,’ he added with a black-toothed grin.

‘Will it take long?’ Ronnie asked, her mouth watering at the sound of the pie. At least it would tide them over until tomorrow. And tomorrow the snow might have melted and they could do some proper food shopping. ‘I shall be in trouble if I don’t soon get back.’

‘Well, no one’s going anywhere in this lot.’

He emerged from behind his counter. ‘You sit here, love …’ He tapped on one of the chairs at the side of the inglenook and put a glass of ginger ale on the round table. ‘Take your boots off and let your feet warm up.’ He turned to the man who’d spoken up for her. ‘Look after her, Sid. I shan’t be long.’

Sid looked at Ronnie and grinned, showing three sparse teeth at the top and none at the bottom. ‘Yous’ll be all right with me,’ he said. ‘It’s the others yer want ter watch.’

The stuffy atmosphere felt as