‘I don’t care. I don’t care what the bloody Baron said. We’re staying right here where we belong, Pet.’ Her dark eyes were aflame with anger. ‘I’ll find a way.’

Chapter 29

29

Mags and I were sitting together up at the top of the lighthouse, nibbling sandwiches and talking quietly as it grew darker outside. The sunset had been astonishing – dark mauve, lavender, lilac . . . A red sky meant good weather the next day – I knew that, but I didn’t know what a purple sky meant. There was something unearthly about the colour, something violent. It made me think of the black eye Mags had got at school the day the war began.

Pa’s absence was all around us in the lantern room – an aching shadow. I kept expecting to hear the sound of his boots coming up the lighthouse steps, or his cheery, tuneless whistle. Neither of us could bear to talk about him. I knew it would be too much for Mags: I was sure that she felt Pa’s death even more than I did: she felt it was all her fault. That morning, we had sent a letter to Mutti in her internment camp, telling her about everything that had happened – Dunkirk, Pa, and now the fact that we were going to be sent away from the Castle.

Mags and I had spent every minute trying to come up with a plan that might mean we could stay put, but nothing had convinced Mrs Baron so far. We were at the point of giving up.

‘She’s an interfering old dragon,’ Mags spat.

‘She’s just trying to look after us and do her job, isn’t she?’ I replied, trying my best to keep a lid on my sister’s temper. I was half-afraid that she’d storm down to Mrs Baron’s house in the village and call her an old dragon to her face. Lord knows what would happen then – we’d probably be shipped off to Shropshire before our feet could touch the ground. ‘Let’s try talking to her again – or could one of the other grown-ups in the village help? There must be someone we know who can convince Mrs Baron to see things differently.’

Mags appeared to think about it for a moment, then she stood up and gathered our plates. ‘I’ll take these down to the kitchen,’ she said. ‘Then I might go out for a walk to clear my head.’

‘But it’s getting dark, Mags,’ I called after her as she disappeared down the stairs. ‘Mags?’

She didn’t reply. I heard the kitchen door slam shut.

I sat there on my own for a while, staring out over the dark sea, trying to think of something that might convince Mrs Baron to let us stay, but my brain felt blunt and tired, and all I could think about was Pa and Mutti.