Dark Mirror by Putney M.J

Author:Putney, M.J. [Putney, M.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin
Published: 2011-02-28T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Tory woke from heavy sleep with her wits scrambled. Such a dream she’d had!

Her gaze fell on a frail birdlike contraption hanging in a corner of the small room. A model airplane, one of many built by Joe Rainford. Memory returned with a rush. God help her, she really had fallen through time into a future war-torn England.

During her late-night supper, where she almost fell asleep in her soup bowl, she’d learned that the RAF was the Royal Air Force, the military branch that operated those strange flying machines. Joe Rainford had joined as soon as he was old enough. Since he was away in training, his bed was available for Tory.

When Mrs. Rainford took her yawning guest up to the small room under the eaves, she said, “See all the model airplanes Joe built? He was always mad for flying. I suppose it was inevitable he’d go into the RAF.” Her voice was bleak.

There were at least a dozen models scattered around the room. Tory studied the nearest. Amazing that anyone would trust his life to such a rickety device. Airplanes would be easy targets in wartime. Mrs. Rainford certainly thought so.

But even though Nick’s mother was quietly terrified for her husband and older son, she was a welcoming and efficient hostess. She’d found a nightgown and robe that belonged to her thirteen-year-old daughter, Polly, who’d slept through Tory’s arrival. Polly was about Tory’s height, and the soft, clean nightgown had been very welcome.

Part of her was tempted to hide under the covers, but that wouldn’t help her find her way home. The thought of being stranded in this England with no friends or family was terrifying. Even if she returned to the exact time she’d left and was taken by raiders and locked up every night until she left Lackland, at least she would be in her own time, where she belonged.

Mrs. Rainford had opened the black curtains after Tory was in bed and the lights were off, so sunlight streamed in the window. She’d slept well into the morning.

She rose from her bed and padded over to the window. There was a fine view of the channel, and the village was just visible on the far right.

Tory gazed across the channel, glad that at least the eternal waves hadn’t changed. On a peaceful morning like this, it was hard to believe that armies with monster machines were tearing at each other in France and drawing ever nearer.

When she went into the corridor on her way to the bathroom, she heard Nick’s voice downstairs. Probably everyone was waiting for her to appear. She dressed and combed her hair out hastily, tying it back with a ribbon Mrs. Rainford had provided.

Then she headed downstairs. She liked the Rainford house. Though not grand, it was pleasant and welcoming, and there were comforts rare or unknown in Tory’s time.

She followed the voices to the kitchen, which seemed to be the center of family life. The night before, Mrs. Rainford had worn a long robe, but now she was in a dress that barely covered her knees.

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