The Girls They Left Behind

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Authors: Lilian Harry
Tags: Fiction, Sagas
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keeping out of the way of the people who were clearing up.
    ‘You can get right into these houses,’ Jimmy Cross said. ‘I wonder what it’s like.’
    The nearest house was partly destroyed, with the upper walls torn away to expose its upstairs rooms, while downstairs remained closed and mysterious. Through the broken window, they could see tumbled furniture and doors hanging at crazy angles.
     
    ‘I wonder if anyone got killed in there,’ Tim said in a hushed voice.
    Micky’s eyes lit up. ‘Let’s go and see.’
    Keith hung back a little. ‘Will there be blood? I don’t like blood much, it makes me feel funny.’
    ‘Stop out here then.’ The bigger boys were already pushing open the front door. It swung back, revealing a mess of broken laths and torn wallpaper. The stairs were covered with broken plaster, with bits of blue carpet showing here and there. Micky glanced up and down the street. ‘Quick — no one’s watching.’
    Tim looked at his brother. He was uneasily aware that they ought not to be here, that this was something that would definitely be forbidden. If Dad ever got to hear about it … but the temptation was too strong to be resisted. Yet he couldn’t leave Keith out here all by himself.
    ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘There won’t be any blood. They’ve taken away all the people who got hurt.’ He turned to go after the others. Keith, his lips trembling a little, followed him unhappily.
    Micky was in the front room, rummaging through a cupboard that had once had a glass front. Most of its contents were broken, but there were a couple of glasses that were only slightly chipped, and he took them out and stood them on the windowsill.
    ‘They’ll do for our mum. She likes a glass of port and lemon. So does my gran.’ He looked round the filthy room and his eyes gleamed. ‘Here, this’d make a smashing den.’
    Jimmy Cross was sifting through another heap of rubble. ‘It’s all girls’ stuff,’ he said in disgust. ‘Look at this — a china doll with its face all smashed. And a teddy-bear with all its stuffing coming out. We’re not going to find anything worth having here.’
    ‘This is all right.’ Tim had found something else. He wiped the dust off with his sleeve and held it up. ‘It’s a donkey.’ The other boys crowded round to look. The donkey was made of twisted and woven cane. It carried panniers on its ;ides and wore a straw sombrero with its ears poking through. ‘It’s just a kid’s toy,’ Micky said, but Tim shook his head.
    ‘It’s not, it’s from Gibraltar. Our Auntie Annie’s got one just like it. Her Colin brought it home once — he’s a sailor. He helped sink the Graf Spee.’ He looked at the donkey again. ‘I’ll take it home for Mum.’
    ‘Oy! What you doing in there?’ They jumped as an ARP warden pushed his way into the room and grabbed their
    shoulders. Don’tcher think things is bad enough without looters and sightseers? Clear off, before I calls a copper.’
    Micky turned indignantly. ‘We’re not looting! My auntie lives here. Least, she did till yesterday.’ He looked around him at the ruined house. ‘We just come over to get a few things for her.’
    The warden stared at him. His face was tired and grey, and he looked as if he had neither slept nor shaved for the past two
    days. The harsh lines softened and he laid his hand on the boy’s arm.
    ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said more quietly. ‘I wouldn’t have bawled at you, only we had a lot of nosy parkers round here today, snooping round to see what they could see — and take away, too, some of ‘em. I dunno what they want to come, gawping for, they’ll see plenty more of it before they’re much older. But you didn’t ought to be poking round inside, all the same, it ain’t safe. The whole lot could come crashing down any minute.’
    He led them back on to the littered pavement, and they stood looking up at the ruins of the house. Tim looked at Micky.
    ‘We’d better go

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