Table Two by Marjorie Wilenski

Author:Marjorie Wilenski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

They were kept in the shelter for the rest of the morning. About one o’clock, after discussion among the wardens, Mrs. Doweson made an announcement. “The All Clear has not yet been sounded,” she said, “but the Head Warden says that those who wish may go out to lunch at their own risk. At your own risk, mind, and I advise you to be as quick as you can.”

Elsie stood up at once and stretched her cramped limbs. “Come along, Anne, let’s go out,” she said, “I’m sick to death of this beastly hole.”

“Yes,” agreed Anne eagerly. “Let’s go out and get a breath of fresh air; we might as well die of a bomb as of suffocation. I’ll go up and get my things. Shall I bring yours?”

“We’re not allowed to go upstairs,” said Miss Jones who was standing near them as they were waiting to file out of the doorway. “Mrs. Doweson has just told me. We may go out of doors at our own risk and if we’re killed the Ministry is not responsible, but if we go upstairs and are bombed, it is responsible.”

“We’ll just have to go as we are, then, lucky it’s so fine,” said Anne as they slowly followed the crowd up the flight of stairs which led to the entrance hall.

At the front door stood the Head Warden. “Remember you go out at your own risk,” he called at intervals. “The raid is not yet over.” But no one paid any attention; they all pushed out eagerly into the fresh air and the sunshine, everyone bare-headed and most of the women in their gay chintz office overalls.

“My word! It’s good to be out! Pouf!” Anne took in great gulps of the air. “Where are we going? It’s Sunday, you know. Not many places are open and with all of us coming out together like this—”

“The little dairy in the lane,” said Elsie. “We can get a sandwich there. We shan’t have time for much more.”

Miss Dunkerley and Mrs. Doweson, standing on the doorstep, watched them hurrying down the street, Elsie, tall and gaunt in her sensible mannish clothes, leaning over Anne, holding her possessively by the arm, Anne with her golden head and gay dress, pattering along in her high-heeled shoes, trying to keep up with Elsie’s long rapid strides. “That’s a strange friendship,” said Miss Dunkerley, “a very strange friendship; I know if I were that child’s mother I should greatly object to her association with that awful woman!” Mrs. Doweson laughed. “My dear Cecilia!” she said, “parents nowadays are not allowed to choose their daughters’ friends. In any case I think it will do Anne good to find out that there are people in the world outside her own small circle. Miss Pearne is the one who is more likely to suffer from the association. She doesn’t understand Anne and Anne doesn’t understand her, Anne listens to all that Miss Pearne says as if it were the most interesting conversation

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