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

different planes, yet we are paid a third lower in wages. After much arguing and persuasion they have actually agreed we are to have equal pay to the men! It’s not even the money so much as the acknowledgement that we’re every bit as good!’

Simone pursed her lips. ‘What is she saying – “it is not even the money”?’

‘I know exactly what she means,’ Ronnie interrupted. ‘It’s the principle of the thing. And the women have finally won!’ She jumped up from the bedside chair and clapped her hands. ‘Good for Miss Gower. Is there anything more?’

‘Non, just she sends her love to us and not to worry … she is fine. As if I can stop from worrying.’

‘She’s happy, Maman, and really that’s all that matters.’ She smiled at her mother but Simone didn’t smile back. ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed while I put the porridge on.’

‘Give me twenty minutes, please,’ Simone said, draining her cup.

Ronnie decided not to risk Maman bursting into her bedroom, demanding to see this particular letter and tearing it to shreds, so she retrieved it from under her pillow and ran down the stairs, Rusty flying after her, for once not barking. Outside, she unbolted the shed and perching on an upturned crate, ripped open the envelope. The heading in capitals and underlined was: MINISTRY OF WAR TRANSPORT. Her heart began to pound. She skimmed through the two-page letter trying to see if they’d accepted her, but she couldn’t tell so she took in a deep breath and read more slowly from the beginning:

Dear Miss Linfoot,

Re: Training Scheme for Women

Thank you for your letter. The training scheme for women is as follows:-

Training takes at least 8 weeks where you will learn to manage a pair of boats – the motorboat and the butty and how to load and unload cargo etc., as well as rudimentary training on care of the engine. You will live on the boats which will carry the cargo along the Grand Union Canal from London to Birmingham and back.

During training you will be paid £2 per week but you must pay for your own food, national insurance and all personal expenses. You should bring your ration books so we can arrange to issue Emergency Coupons. You may then make purchases in any part of the country. When you are able to operate the boats you will be allotted your own pair of boats working together with two other women.

After training, earnings of around £10 per week must be shared by the three crew members. This figure may vary according to the cargo and distance travelled etc. and will depend upon each member’s effort.

When you have completed two trips – usually around three weeks each – you may take three days off unpaid. The more trips you make, the more days you may take (unpaid). After a year you will be paid one week’s leave, and the same thereafter.

We must stress that you should be fit and healthy as you will be working long hours over a seven-day week.

If you are still interested in this vital war work, and are at least 17 years of age, then we will arrange for you to come for an interview at our offices.

Yours sincerely,

D. Hunter (Mrs)

Supervisor

Grand Union Canal Carrying Co.

They hadn’t turned her down! She hadn’t stated her age so she’d have to take a chance they wouldn’t ask for her birth certificate. After all, she’d be seventeen in December – only two months away. With a shiver of excitement she tucked the letter back into its envelope. She’d write back immediately. Then when they gave her a date to attend the interview, only then would she tell Maman her plans.

There was one problem even more insurmountable than Maman – and that was Rusty. Maman would never agree in a million years to look after him. She wondered if she could somehow smuggle him onto the boat. She read the letter again. There was no mention of not being able to take a dog aboard and she’d seen dogs on boats when she’d cycled to Keston Common with Rusty in the front basket. They’d always looked perfectly happy. She was sure Rusty would be thrilled to accompany her – and Maman would be delighted to be rid of him.

But would whoever was in charge of the training allow it?

Chapter Three

At the vet’s the following Saturday where Ronnie helped out and earned some useful pocket money, she stood on the opposite side of the table to Mr Lincoln. He was having to put down a perfectly healthy dog because the owner, an elderly lady, said she was no longer able to feed it. She hardly had enough income to keep herself together, she’d said, her chin trembling as she left the mongrel to his destiny.

If she didn’t already have Rusty, Ronnie would have immediately taken the little dog home, but the thought of Maman’s anger stopped her. Ronnie swallowed hard. This would have been Rusty’s fate if she hadn’t rescued him, and he’d been in a dreadful condition compared to this boy. She vowed never to witness something like that again. She’d have to confess to Mr Lincoln that she wasn’t cut out for this kind of work after all. Not that she was squeamish at assisting the vet with the most gory operations. She rose to the challenge just as she knew Mr Lincoln did. And the glow of happiness she felt every time an animal recovered and was back with its owner was all the reward she would ever want. She loved how Mr Lincoln would celebrate a job well done by making her a cup of tea instead of the other way round, and adding a finger of Kit-Kat in the saucer. But poor Oscar being lethally injected after looking up at her with such trusting eyes just moments ago sickened her.

She gulped back her tears and turned to blow her nose.

‘I hated doing that,’ Mr