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

‘I’ll try not to.’

‘Jess …’

‘You go and have a good break,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ll take care of Lucky – and more to the point, I’ll take care of bloody Angela.’

Ronnie grinned, satisfied. All she now had to face was Maman.

As Ronnie walked up the path to her front door, carrying a bag of washing they’d never had the space or time to do, she wondered if her mother would grumble at her daughter’s appearance. She knew she looked dirty and dishevelled, that she was exhausted, but she felt like a different person inside. Stronger. Strangely healthier. And heaps more sure of herself. Would her mother recognise the changes?

‘What on earth have you done to yourself?’ Maman’s tone was a mixture of disbelief and horror.

‘It’s dirty work, Maman,’ Ronnie said, immediately deflated.

‘For goodness’ sake come in, child,’ she said, practically dragging her daughter inside. ‘I do not bear to have the neighbours see you in such a state.’

There was a sudden flurry and a tan and white animal flew from the sitting room into the hall and jumped up at Ronnie, licking her hand as she patted him. Still in her raincoat she knelt down and flung her arms round him.

‘Oh, Rusty, it’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.’

‘Véronique, you will remove your coat which looks to need a good clean …’ She glanced at Ronnie’s feet. ‘And take off those filthy boots. Then you will have a bath.’

Oh, the joy of soaking in hot water. Ronnie leaned back in the bath knowing she couldn’t be too long with her mother wanting to grill her. Quickly, she changed into her heavenly clean skirt and jumper, rinsed her face and brushed her short curls. By the time she’d carried out her mother’s instructions, hampered by Rusty who was close at her heels with every step, half an hour had passed. But now she was ready for Maman’s inspection. Ronnie braced herself for a telling-off for taking too long.

‘Maman—’

‘Hush, chérie. You will have a cup of tea first and some gâteau.’

‘You made it?’ Ronnie said, more astonished at the image of her mother baking than at not being reprimanded.

‘Non. Beatrice Mortimer made it and gave it to me yesterday. She said it was for when the girls are home. So you are home’ her mother smiled, ‘and we will try her cake. I will give her my opinion next time we meet.’

Her mother might have made the tea, unusual in itself, but she still sat elegantly, her legs together and slightly angled to the side, as she waited for her daughter to pour. Ronnie suppressed a smile. Yes, Maman had softened a little lately, but she still expected to be waited on. Not irritated in the least, Ronnie poured them both a cup and handed one to her mother.

‘Merci, chérie. Now you will tell your maman that you have stopped this nonsense on the boats and have come home for always.’

‘No,’ Ronnie protested. ‘It’s not at all like that. It’s not nonsense. I’ve finished my training and when I go back next week I’ll be with two of the others and we’ll be on our own, taking cargo to Birmingham and bringing stuff back. I’m a fully trained boatwoman,’ she added with a note of pride.

Simone threw her hands in the air. ‘I do not know what is ’appening with my daughters,’ she said. ‘They are not like me, their maman, at all. Not one. Not even my Suzanne.’

Ronnie burst out laughing. ‘She’s probably the closest,’ she said. ‘You both love music and …’ She hesitated, trying to think of something else they had in common. ‘Well, music is one of the important things you both share,’ she finished, giving up.

‘Yes, chérie, you are right.’ Her mother smiled, seeming mollified, and taking a delicate bite of Mrs Mortimer’s cake. ‘Walnut and raisin. How, I wonder, did she manage to get such ingredients?’

‘She probably already had them,’ Ronnie said, not having a clue as to where Mrs Mortimer did her shopping. Nor did she particularly care, even though she liked James’s mother very much, the little she’d met her. The cake was too good to worry about how it came to be made. To change the subject she said, ‘Any idea when Raine and Suzy are coming home?’

‘I believe you mean Lorraine and Suzanne,’ her mother began, her eyes flashing with annoyance. ‘Suzanne writes she will come home next month and Lorraine says she will try to come on her next days off – whenever that might be. And “try” is not good enough. It means I am second-best choice.’ She drew her mouth into a disapproving line.

‘Well, she probably wants to see Alec when she can,’ Ronnie said. ‘It can’t be easy for them to meet very often when they’re working different shifts in different camps.’

Though it would have been good to see her, she thought. She missed her sisters. Rusty gave a short bark as if to say, ‘But I’m still here.’ She bent down and kissed the top of his head. Something struck her. ‘Maman, when I arrived Rusty came flying out of the front room.’

Simone had the grace to blush prettily. ‘Sometimes I have him downstairs to give him a change.’

‘Are you sure it’s not that you want him for a bit of company?’

‘Of course not,’ her mother retorted.

‘So it’s all right with you if I take him back with me?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘To the boats. Dogs are allowed. We see quite a few on the canals.’

‘I do not think he would like life on the water,’ Simone flashed. ‘He is used to his home here.’

‘It was just a thought, Maman,’ Ronnie said, hiding a smile. Who would have thought it? Maman was actually calling the cottage Rusty’s home!

For Ronnie the novelty of being home wore off quickly. If only Dora had given her more notice about the dates of her leave. As it was, there hadn’t been time for her to