leave the path Jacky and Herbert had made to the village, because I realise you probably don’t know yourself, but I’m telling you that for two pins I’d send you home to your mam and let her try to keep you out of mischief. I dare say, after this little adventure, you realise the country around the Canary and Linnet is just as dangerous as the slums off the Scotland Road in Liverpool.’
‘I’m s-s-sorry,’ Imogen muttered.
‘Fine words butter no parsnips,’ Auntie said severely, but Jill shook her head.
‘She isn’t taking anything in, Auntie,’ she said quietly. ‘I think she should go straight to bed and tell us her story in the morning.’ As she spoke she lifted Imogen in her arms and headed for the stairs, but was intercepted by Laurie who took her burden from her.
‘Show me where to go,’ he instructed.
Jill went ahead of him and opened the attic door, indicating Imogen’s bed. ‘I do believe she’s asleep already,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Don’t bother to take the towel off, just roll her into the bed with it wrapped round her. It’s my belief she’ll sleep till morning, so you’ll have to make do with our thanks – mine and Auntie’s – until Immy is well enough to thank you herself.’
‘I’m just glad we got her out in time,’ Laurie muttered. ‘Poor little bugger, she’s had a lesson she’ll never forget.’
As though the words had somehow reached her sleeping mind, Imogen’s long lashes lifted and her eyes focused on Laurie for one moment before the lids were lowered again. ‘Thank you,’ she said drowsily.
‘Glad to have been of service,’ Laurie said, grinning, but Imogen’s eyes didn’t open again, so he and Jill turned and left the room. They descended the stairs and re-entered the kitchen.
‘Now Imogen’s settled, how do you fancy bacon and eggs and some of Jill’s home-made bread?’ Auntie said. ‘You’d be all the better for something hot inside you, and though it’s small thanks for saving our foolish child’s life it’s the best we can do for now.’
‘That’ll be grand,’ Laurie said quickly. ‘Are you really going to punish her? Don’t you think she’s been punished enough?’
Auntie smiled. ‘I won’t send her away, if that’s what you mean,’ she said, ‘but fair’s fair, young man. Jill and I are what you might call in loco parentis to these children; I imagine you’ve gathered they’re evacuees. You must think I don’t take very good care of them . . .’
‘She does, honest to God she does; take care of us, I mean,’ Debby said. ‘And Imogen is very good as a rule. I suppose she never thought she was being naughty because she’s doing this Mass Observation thing and has been desperate for something exciting to happen.’
Jill, who had been slicing the loaf, pulled a face. ‘I don’t imagine she wanted anything as exciting as being nearly killed. And I don’t suppose we’ll get an explanation out of her for a day or two. All I can tell you is that so far as I can recall, Debby was watching me milk the cows and Rita was cleaning the channel—’
Rita interrupted. ‘If you’re going to punish Imogen, Auntie, then you really ought to punish me as well,’ she said miserably. ‘I was in a bad mood, and I – I think I took it out on Imogen.’ She turned to Jill. ‘If you remember, there was a bit of a row over who was wearing the wrong wellington boots. In fact, none of us were. Imogen hadn’t remembered that Auntie dried out our boots with scrumpled-up newspaper after we cleared the yard. In her hurry to go up to the farm, she put her own boots on with the paper still in and thought she was wearing mine. When we discovered the truth I – I jeered at her, made it sound as though she had been a real twerp, and I suppose she hated being laughed at and decided to show us all that she wasn’t the idiot I’d called her. She must have decided to come home, or perhaps go into the village. But of course I don’t
‘I’m s-s-sorry,’ Imogen muttered.
‘Fine words butter no parsnips,’ Auntie said severely, but Jill shook her head.
‘She isn’t taking anything in, Auntie,’ she said quietly. ‘I think she should go straight to bed and tell us her story in the morning.’ As she spoke she lifted Imogen in her arms and headed for the stairs, but was intercepted by Laurie who took her burden from her.
‘Show me where to go,’ he instructed.
Jill went ahead of him and opened the attic door, indicating Imogen’s bed. ‘I do believe she’s asleep already,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Don’t bother to take the towel off, just roll her into the bed with it wrapped round her. It’s my belief she’ll sleep till morning, so you’ll have to make do with our thanks – mine and Auntie’s – until Immy is well enough to thank you herself.’
‘I’m just glad we got her out in time,’ Laurie muttered. ‘Poor little bugger, she’s had a lesson she’ll never forget.’
As though the words had somehow reached her sleeping mind, Imogen’s long lashes lifted and her eyes focused on Laurie for one moment before the lids were lowered again. ‘Thank you,’ she said drowsily.
‘Glad to have been of service,’ Laurie said, grinning, but Imogen’s eyes didn’t open again, so he and Jill turned and left the room. They descended the stairs and re-entered the kitchen.
‘Now Imogen’s settled, how do you fancy bacon and eggs and some of Jill’s home-made bread?’ Auntie said. ‘You’d be all the better for something hot inside you, and though it’s small thanks for saving our foolish child’s life it’s the best we can do for now.’
‘That’ll be grand,’ Laurie said quickly. ‘Are you really going to punish her? Don’t you think she’s been punished enough?’
Auntie smiled. ‘I won’t send her away, if that’s what you mean,’ she said, ‘but fair’s fair, young man. Jill and I are what you might call in loco parentis to these children; I imagine you’ve gathered they’re evacuees. You must think I don’t take very good care of them . . .’
‘She does, honest to God she does; take care of us, I mean,’ Debby said. ‘And Imogen is very good as a rule. I suppose she never thought she was being naughty because she’s doing this Mass Observation thing and has been desperate for something exciting to happen.’
Jill, who had been slicing the loaf, pulled a face. ‘I don’t imagine she wanted anything as exciting as being nearly killed. And I don’t suppose we’ll get an explanation out of her for a day or two. All I can tell you is that so far as I can recall, Debby was watching me milk the cows and Rita was cleaning the channel—’
Rita interrupted. ‘If you’re going to punish Imogen, Auntie, then you really ought to punish me as well,’ she said miserably. ‘I was in a bad mood, and I – I think I took it out on Imogen.’ She turned to Jill. ‘If you remember, there was a bit of a row over who was wearing the wrong wellington boots. In fact, none of us were. Imogen hadn’t remembered that Auntie dried out our boots with scrumpled-up newspaper after we cleared the yard. In her hurry to go up to the farm, she put her own boots on with the paper still in and thought she was wearing mine. When we discovered the truth I – I jeered at her, made it sound as though she had been a real twerp, and I suppose she hated being laughed at and decided to show us all that she wasn’t the idiot I’d called her. She must have decided to come home, or perhaps go into the village. But of course I don’t
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