Chapters (52)
- Cover
- Margaret Dickinson
- Dedication page
- Contents
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Part Two
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Sow the Seed
- Note
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Copyright page
Kate looked up, glancing over the newcomers. Her gaze rested briefly on the thin girl and then was drawn to the other girl. There was something vaguely familiar about her. Kate frowned. The girl nodded stiffly towards Mavis, her only acknowledgement of the friendly greeting.
There was something about the sulky mouth, the tilt of her head as if she were looking down her nose at everything and everyone . . .
Even before the newcomer opened her mouth to speak again, Kate recognized her.
‘How do you do?’ Her tones were affected and cold. ‘This is Edith Brownlow and my name’s Isobel Cartwright.’
Twenty-Three
Kate knew she was staring at Isobel Cartwright, but she could not stop herself.
Her stomach was churning. Of all the people she had hoped never to meet again in her life, this girl was top of the list, apart, perhaps, from Miss Denham. Any moment, she expected the girl’s petulant mouth to twist into a sneer and hear herself called that dreadful name. ‘Why, if it isn’t Sicky!’
But Isobel’s cool glance flickered over Kate without recognition and she turned her attention to the bed next to Mavis. ‘I’ll take this one. I see you two have already bagged the ones nearest the stove.’
‘First come, first served,’ Mavis said airily. She waved her hand towards Kate, making the introductions.
Kate held her breath. Would Isobel remember the name, if not the young girl who had grown up?
Isobel nodded briefly and glanced around, more concerned with her surroundings. ‘Well, I don’t like being under a window. They’re always draughty.’ She prodded the three-sectioned mattress with her fingers. ‘Ugh! I shall have to get Mummy to bring my own bed over from Lincoln. This is disgusting!’
Kate heard Mavis’s splutter of laughter which she tried to turn into a cough, but failed.
By contrast, Edith Brownlow was standing uncertainly in the centre of the floor. Kate noticed now, with a stab of pity, that the girl’s hair was plastered with an evil-smelling concoction, proclaiming to all that in the medical inspection, Edith must have been found to have head lice.
Kate watched as Isobel glanced coolly towards Edith. ‘You’d better take a bed on that side of the hut, Brownlow. I don’t want to catch nits!’
Obediently and without a word of complaint, Edith took the bed on the opposite side under the window next to Kate and began to unpack her belongings. Kate had a shrewd idea that the girl’s bent head was hiding tears. She remembered how she had felt under Isobel Cartwright’s scathing jibes.
She went over to Edith. ‘Here, let me give you a hand,’ Kate said, smiling at the younger girl who was obviously feeling very embarrassed. ‘Our corporal’s not a bad old stick, actually,’ Kate continued, trying to open up a conversation. ‘We’re lucky – the girls in the next hut have got a battle-axe!’