“Well, then you’d better eat her share,” said Joan. “I’ve no doubt she took something out of the larder before she went. Pity I didn’t lock it last night, as usual!”

They finished George’s share between them and then started on toast and marmalade. After that Anne went to help Joan make the beds and dust and mop. Julian and Dick went off to the village to do the morning’s shopping at the grocer’s.

Nobody worried about George at all. Julian and Dick came back from their shopping and saw the little boat still out on the sea.

“George will be absolutely starving by the time she comes back,” said Julian. “Perhaps she’s got one of her moods on and wants to be alone. She was awfully upset about Timmy being drugged.”

They met the ragamuffin Jo. She was walking along the beach, collecting wood, and she looked sullen and dirtier than ever.

“Hallo, Jo!” called Dick. She looked up and came towards them without a smile. She looked as if she had been crying. Her small brown face was streaked where the tears had run through the dirt.

“Hallo!” she said, looking at Dick. She looked so miserable that Dick felt touched.

“What’s the matter, kid?” he said, kindly.

Tears trickled down Jo’s face as she heard the kindness in his voice. She rubbed them away and smudged her face more than ever.

“Nothing,” she said. “Where’s Anne?”

“Anne’s at home, and George is out in that boat with Timmy fishing,” said Dick, pointing out to sea.

“Oh!” said Jo, and turned away to go on with her collecting of wood. Dick went after her.

“Hey!” he said. “Don’t go off like that. You just tell me what’s wrong with you this morning.”

He caught hold of Jo and swung her round to face him. He looked closely at her and saw that she now had two bruises on her face — one going yellow, that he had given her when he had sent her flying two or three days before — and a new one, dark purple.

“Where did you get that bruise?” he said, touching it lightly.

“That was my dad,” said Jo. “He’s gone off and left me — taken the caravan and all! I wanted to go, too; but he wouldn’t let me into the caravan. And when I hammered at the door, he came out and pushed me down the steps. That’s when I got this bruise — and I’ve got another on my leg, too.”

Dick and Julian listened in horror. What kind of a life was this that Jo had to live? The boys sat down on the beach, and Dick pulled Jo down between them.

“But surely your father is coming back?” said Julian. “Is the caravan your only home?”

“Yes,” said Jo. “I’ve never had another home. We’ve always lived in a caravan. Mum did, too, when she was alive. Things were better then. But this is the first time Dad’s gone off without me.”