How the Penguins Saved Veronica by Hazel Prior

Author:Hazel Prior [Hazel Prior]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-06-16T00:00:00+00:00

• 27 •

Patrick

BOLTON

I arm myself with a Guinness before reading on. I wonder whether a spliff might help, too, but decide against it. I’m trying to stop smoking altogether. I might even return Weedledum and Weedledee to Judith; then the temptation won’t be there anymore.

It’s late, but who cares? I pour out the Guinness, stretch out on the bed and open the diary once again.

20 November 1940

Aggleworth

I haven’t written in here for so long. I just couldn’t. Even now it all keeps crashing round and round in my head. Crazy little details. The “Headmistress” sign on the door. Miss Harrison’s grainy skin. Her small, darting eyes. The tight roll of hair on the nape of her neck that she kept poking and prodding. And Aunt Margaret, ghostly white, standing beside the desk. So stiff.

When I was summoned, I just thought they’d found out about my stealing Miss Melton’s chalk. I even felt a flicker of hope that maybe I’d be sent back to London as a punishment. But no. Instead came that news—terrible, hideous, unthinkable . . .

Oh, Mum, oh, Dad. You said everything would be all right. You promised.

I wanted to scream at Miss Harrison and Aunt Margaret that they were lying, that it couldn’t possibly be true. Dad and Mum wouldn’t . . . they couldn’t . . .

They love me so much. They’d never do this to me. They’d never let themselves get killed, no matter how many bombs fall out of the sky, no matter how much all the rest of the world breaks and bleeds and burns.

Miss Harrison, prodding at her stupid bun again: “They are at peace now, child. You have to accept that.”

I hate Aunt Margaret more than ever, but I shall never forget what she said as I sank to the floor. “It’s selfish to cry, Veronica, because they are now with Our Lord. Tears show weakness. They would not want you to cry.”

I heard an echo of Dad’s voice, his kind, firm voice. His words the very last time he set eyes on me:

“Be strong.”

I bit the inside of my mouth, teeth clenching into flesh so hard I could taste the blood.

I WILL be strong, Dad. For you. I will NOT CRY.

Not then. Not now. Not ever.

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