Read Online Amy's Children by Olga Masters - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Olga Masters
Tags: Fiction classic
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finger lengths stacked on the plate so neatly she hated disturbing it. The waitress looked with great tenderness at Peter. âOh no,â she said, shocked when he offered threepence more than the cost of the meal.
âI donât have anything much to spend my pay on,â he apologized to Amy when her eyes fell on a roll of pound notes thicker than she had ever seen.
They walked about, mainly on the cliffs, watching the sea turn the brown rocks black, and hardly allowing them to get their colour back before there was another great wash sucking savagely at the crevices, and making grinding noises with the sand.
âYou canât believe it,â she said of the shelling, looking down on the streets with the trams like busy beetles and the dark shapes of strolling people.
She felt a great safeness because he was there. They found a little ham and beef shop open and he bought some cakes from a glass cabinet which the woman, elderly and fat, but with the same expression of devotion the girl in the cafe wore, put in a box for easy carrying.
âLet me!â Amy said, caught in the wave of reverence for him. He smiled and tucked the box under an arm. The woman, checking with dark eyes that she wasnât observed by other customers, reached under the counter and with partly hidden hands slipped a cake of soap in a white and gold wrapper into a paper bag. She closed it quickly on the smell when suspicious heads turned, and handed it to Peter. Outside he passed it to Amy.
âThereâs no rationing of soap in the army,â he said.
âI will make it last and last,â Amy said, smelling it through the bag. âAnd Iâll put a bell on it soâs I wonât leave it behind in the bathroom!â
In the tram he held the box of cakes on his knee and both of them noticed a grease stain making a blot on the cardboard. He put a thumb over it and she looked out the window, and when she looked back the stain had spread further and he was trying to cover it with his spread hand. The people lined up opposite, their rows of legs making Amy think of a fence made up of odd bits of wood, fixed their eyes on the box. Amy wanted to laugh at him trying to look unconcerned as the grey turned a deeper grey. She wanted to take it from him and hold it but this would make the people stare more. In a little while there was no hope of covering the stain and a corresponding stain of deep pink spread over his face. Smiles began to trickle from eyes to mouths on the watching seat.
Amy straightened her back and cleared her throat. A-hem! it said with a deep and severe frown. Donât you dare laugh. They looked away and some kicked the wood of their seats with guilty heels. She leaned towards him and whispered. âDo you want to get out and walk the rest of the way?â No, said the shake of his head. She slipped an arm through his and a hand near his on the box.
Everyone found something else to do with their eyes.
11
John telephoned Amy at Lincoln Knitwear to tell her of Peterâs death. It was only three months after Peter and Amy had been to Bondi and she hadnât seen him again. She received a censored letter from him, so that she was unaware he was soon to leave training camp to embark for New Guinea in a contingent of soldiers to back up forces fighting to hold Milne Bay.
The Australian victory there, the first against the Japanese for nearly a year, cheered those at home.
âOur brave, wonderful boys,â said wet-eyed women, openly reading newspapers over the shoulders of others in trams.
Â
It had caused a stir at Lincoln Knitwear when Miss Sheldon joined the Land Army. Goodness me, Amy said to herself, wondering if Miss Sheldon had any idea of what was ahead of her. How would she go behind a plough, hoeing long rows of potatoes, or feeding butting bull calves? Amy looked at her standing by Lance Yates when he made the announcement (as he did on news of the Milne Bay victory).
âI donât have anything much to spend my pay on,â he apologized to Amy when her eyes fell on a roll of pound notes thicker than she had ever seen.
They walked about, mainly on the cliffs, watching the sea turn the brown rocks black, and hardly allowing them to get their colour back before there was another great wash sucking savagely at the crevices, and making grinding noises with the sand.
âYou canât believe it,â she said of the shelling, looking down on the streets with the trams like busy beetles and the dark shapes of strolling people.
She felt a great safeness because he was there. They found a little ham and beef shop open and he bought some cakes from a glass cabinet which the woman, elderly and fat, but with the same expression of devotion the girl in the cafe wore, put in a box for easy carrying.
âLet me!â Amy said, caught in the wave of reverence for him. He smiled and tucked the box under an arm. The woman, checking with dark eyes that she wasnât observed by other customers, reached under the counter and with partly hidden hands slipped a cake of soap in a white and gold wrapper into a paper bag. She closed it quickly on the smell when suspicious heads turned, and handed it to Peter. Outside he passed it to Amy.
âThereâs no rationing of soap in the army,â he said.
âI will make it last and last,â Amy said, smelling it through the bag. âAnd Iâll put a bell on it soâs I wonât leave it behind in the bathroom!â
In the tram he held the box of cakes on his knee and both of them noticed a grease stain making a blot on the cardboard. He put a thumb over it and she looked out the window, and when she looked back the stain had spread further and he was trying to cover it with his spread hand. The people lined up opposite, their rows of legs making Amy think of a fence made up of odd bits of wood, fixed their eyes on the box. Amy wanted to laugh at him trying to look unconcerned as the grey turned a deeper grey. She wanted to take it from him and hold it but this would make the people stare more. In a little while there was no hope of covering the stain and a corresponding stain of deep pink spread over his face. Smiles began to trickle from eyes to mouths on the watching seat.
Amy straightened her back and cleared her throat. A-hem! it said with a deep and severe frown. Donât you dare laugh. They looked away and some kicked the wood of their seats with guilty heels. She leaned towards him and whispered. âDo you want to get out and walk the rest of the way?â No, said the shake of his head. She slipped an arm through his and a hand near his on the box.
Everyone found something else to do with their eyes.
11
John telephoned Amy at Lincoln Knitwear to tell her of Peterâs death. It was only three months after Peter and Amy had been to Bondi and she hadnât seen him again. She received a censored letter from him, so that she was unaware he was soon to leave training camp to embark for New Guinea in a contingent of soldiers to back up forces fighting to hold Milne Bay.
The Australian victory there, the first against the Japanese for nearly a year, cheered those at home.
âOur brave, wonderful boys,â said wet-eyed women, openly reading newspapers over the shoulders of others in trams.
Â
It had caused a stir at Lincoln Knitwear when Miss Sheldon joined the Land Army. Goodness me, Amy said to herself, wondering if Miss Sheldon had any idea of what was ahead of her. How would she go behind a plough, hoeing long rows of potatoes, or feeding butting bull calves? Amy looked at her standing by Lance Yates when he made the announcement (as he did on news of the Milne Bay victory).
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