more than once, her eyes blurry with tears.
As she approached her front door, she roughly wiped her face with her handkerchief. But it wasnât enough, not by a long way.
âWhat on earth have you been doing, Eleanor?â her mother exclaimed as she walked in.
âI told you, blackberrying.â
âDonât you dare take that tone with me! Look at the state of you! Youâre filthy! Your hair is full of brambles and your shoes are all scuffed! Youâre a disgrace.â
Ellie gritted her teeth but didnât reply.
âAnd where are these famous blackberries I was promised?â
Ellie looked around as though the basket might appear, but of course, sheâd left it in the woods. It had scarcely had any berries in anyway.
âNothing to say for yourself? I tell you, Eleanor, Iâve had quite enough of this behaviour. I scarcely need it on top of everything else Iâm trying to cope with. You were with that boy, I presume?â
Ellie didnât answer. She didnât want to think about Jack.
âI thought so and I will not permit it. You are no longer children. It is unseemly. You can wash the windows and floors as punishment, and I suggest you keep out of my sight for the rest of the day if you donât want to make your situation worse.â
Ellie turned to the door, feeling her anger draining away into a deep, tired sadness.
Father, she begged in her head. Please come home!
Please let us know youâre all right.
Nine
âEllie!â
Ellie lifted her head, which had been slumped over her latest knitting attempt â the first one had not been deemed good enough to be sent with the schoolâs package to the troops. This murky green mess looked unlikely to make the cut either.
âIâve called you three times already,â Miss Smith sighed.
Ellie noticed Rosemary and Janet elbowing each other and giggling.
âSorry, miss.â
She had been finding it harder than ever to focus these past few days. It had been bad enough missing her father, but now she didnât even have Jack. She hadnât heard anything from him since their argument in the woods.
Miss Smith looked at her with a mixture of frustration and sympathy. âWell, come up here and let me see if I can salvage that. And please try to pay attention this time!â
Ellie trudged up to Miss Smithâs desk and watched her wrangle with the knotted wool, muttering under her breath.
Ellieâs toes curled whenever she remembered the things sheâd said about Jackâs father. They were unforgivable. But whenever sheâd thought about sneaking out to his house to apologize (Josephine didnât approve of her visiting the side of the village where the factory-workers lived), she felt a fresh wave of anger. She was sick of Jack acting as though war was just a game, oblivious to how lonely and terrified she was.
âThere now. Thatâll have to do,â Miss Smith said, handing her back the knitting, which had been stripped all the way back to the second row again.
âThank you, miss,â Ellie said distractedly as she returned to her desk.
Maybe her mother had been right all along, she thought sadly. Maybe she and Jack were from too worlds that were too different. Perhaps now they were growing up it was to hard to ignore.
Miss Smith looked at the clock. âAll right, girls, that will do for today. Keep your knitting in your desk and weâll carry on tomorrow.â
Ellie groaned softly to herself as she lifted the desk lid and unceremoniously stuffed her knitting into the drawer. As she gathered her things, she heard a sharp ripple of conversation that suddenly stopped as she closed the lid and looked up. Immediately she saw why. Standing before her, with her hands on her hips, was Jackâs sister, Anna. Anna had only returned to school for a week after the summer holidays, before dropping out for good. It was common knowledge that sheâd
As she approached her front door, she roughly wiped her face with her handkerchief. But it wasnât enough, not by a long way.
âWhat on earth have you been doing, Eleanor?â her mother exclaimed as she walked in.
âI told you, blackberrying.â
âDonât you dare take that tone with me! Look at the state of you! Youâre filthy! Your hair is full of brambles and your shoes are all scuffed! Youâre a disgrace.â
Ellie gritted her teeth but didnât reply.
âAnd where are these famous blackberries I was promised?â
Ellie looked around as though the basket might appear, but of course, sheâd left it in the woods. It had scarcely had any berries in anyway.
âNothing to say for yourself? I tell you, Eleanor, Iâve had quite enough of this behaviour. I scarcely need it on top of everything else Iâm trying to cope with. You were with that boy, I presume?â
Ellie didnât answer. She didnât want to think about Jack.
âI thought so and I will not permit it. You are no longer children. It is unseemly. You can wash the windows and floors as punishment, and I suggest you keep out of my sight for the rest of the day if you donât want to make your situation worse.â
Ellie turned to the door, feeling her anger draining away into a deep, tired sadness.
Father, she begged in her head. Please come home!
Please let us know youâre all right.
Nine
âEllie!â
Ellie lifted her head, which had been slumped over her latest knitting attempt â the first one had not been deemed good enough to be sent with the schoolâs package to the troops. This murky green mess looked unlikely to make the cut either.
âIâve called you three times already,â Miss Smith sighed.
Ellie noticed Rosemary and Janet elbowing each other and giggling.
âSorry, miss.â
She had been finding it harder than ever to focus these past few days. It had been bad enough missing her father, but now she didnât even have Jack. She hadnât heard anything from him since their argument in the woods.
Miss Smith looked at her with a mixture of frustration and sympathy. âWell, come up here and let me see if I can salvage that. And please try to pay attention this time!â
Ellie trudged up to Miss Smithâs desk and watched her wrangle with the knotted wool, muttering under her breath.
Ellieâs toes curled whenever she remembered the things sheâd said about Jackâs father. They were unforgivable. But whenever sheâd thought about sneaking out to his house to apologize (Josephine didnât approve of her visiting the side of the village where the factory-workers lived), she felt a fresh wave of anger. She was sick of Jack acting as though war was just a game, oblivious to how lonely and terrified she was.
âThere now. Thatâll have to do,â Miss Smith said, handing her back the knitting, which had been stripped all the way back to the second row again.
âThank you, miss,â Ellie said distractedly as she returned to her desk.
Maybe her mother had been right all along, she thought sadly. Maybe she and Jack were from too worlds that were too different. Perhaps now they were growing up it was to hard to ignore.
Miss Smith looked at the clock. âAll right, girls, that will do for today. Keep your knitting in your desk and weâll carry on tomorrow.â
Ellie groaned softly to herself as she lifted the desk lid and unceremoniously stuffed her knitting into the drawer. As she gathered her things, she heard a sharp ripple of conversation that suddenly stopped as she closed the lid and looked up. Immediately she saw why. Standing before her, with her hands on her hips, was Jackâs sister, Anna. Anna had only returned to school for a week after the summer holidays, before dropping out for good. It was common knowledge that sheâd
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