The Spitfire Girls Fly for Victory by Jenny Holmes

Author:Jenny Holmes [Holmes, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473560437
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2020-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘I won’t be long,’ Jean called to Douglas from the foot of the stairs.

He was in their bedroom, re-laying a small section of creaking floorboards, sawing, hammering away, and doing his best to make the floor level.

He appeared in the doorway, shirtsleeves rolled up. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘To see Florrie and tell her we’ve decided to keep Patch.’

‘Doesn’t she already know?’ Douglas was reluctant to forgo his wife’s company.

‘Not for definite. The last time we spoke I said we were still thinking about it. Anyway, it’ll do me and Patch good to stretch our legs.’ Promising to be back in half an hour, Jean donned her coat and hat then called for the dog to come. Soon they were both enjoying the dappled sunshine as they skirted the edge of Burton Wood and headed towards the village.

The dog didn’t need to be shown the way – he trotted ahead, one ear pricked, the other flopping over his pale eye, tail wagging happily until they came within sight of St Wilfred’s church and Jean called him to heel. ‘Just in case a car comes by,’ she explained, stooping to put the obedient dog on the lead.

A west-bound goods train chugged to a halt in the station behind the main street. Jean heard the squeal of its brakes and saw a plume of steam rise into the still air. Close by, a trickle of evening worshippers strolled up the path and into church as Jean and the dog approached the Fox. The pub would be closed today, so they would have to make their way along the ginnel at the side into the backyard and knock on Florrie’s private door. Before they rounded the corner, however, Jean heard the landlady’s voice.

‘You’re not to come here again,’ Florrie said sternly. ‘Do you understand?’

There was a low, mumbled response, unintelligible to Jean.

‘I’m under strict instructions not to speak to you. I’ll get into trouble if they find out you’ve been here.’

Jean heard the word ‘please’ and then recognized Anna’s stilted English. ‘I come only one time … please tell me … I cry, I cannot sleep.’

In two minds whether or not to interrupt and unsettled by the anguish in Anna’s voice, Jean stayed out of sight.

‘Do you want to get me into trouble?’ Florrie demanded. ‘Because I will if people see me talking to you. You shouldn’t have come.’

‘Please,’ Anna begged, her voice broken by a sob. ‘I tell no one.’

But Florrie was adamant. ‘I have nothing to say to you. Do you understand? You must go away and not come back.’

Jean heard the slam of a door and more sobs. Soon after, Anna appeared at the end of the ginnel, but when she saw Jean and the dog she stepped quickly back into the yard.

Jean rushed forward to find Anna backed up against a wall, roughly wiping tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her shabby grey mackintosh. She looked paler than ever and dreadfully distressed. ‘Whatever is the matter?’ Jean asked.

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