Home Front Girls

down there as well, but I pray we’ll never have to use them – although it’s looking all the more likely that we shall. It might be quite scary for Mary though – if we have an air raid, I mean,’ she said worriedly. ‘All those loud explosions and everything. Bless her, she won’t understand what’s happening. How old is she, Lucy?’
    ‘She’ll be five in a few weeks’ time,’ Lucy responded and Miranda saw the fear in her eyes.
    ‘Ah, so she’ll be evacuated then?’
    As Lucy nodded her head, she swallowed tears. Just the thought of it struck terror into her heart.
    ‘I’m sure she’ll cope admirably,’ Miranda said reassuringly as she patted the girl’s shoulder. ‘After all, even Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret Rose have been evacuated.’
    ‘Yes, but they’re at Balmoral with servants to wait on them who they probably already know,’ Lucy said hotly. ‘Once Mary goes I shan’t even know where she’s been sent till the person who is taking care of her sends me her address on a postcard. She could end up anywhere – and with total strangers too!’
    Seeing that Lucy was becoming distressed, Miranda said calmly, ‘Well now, let’s not talk of sad things any more. Why don’t you two girls tell me all about the departments that you work in at Owen Owen?’
    So for the next half an hour that’s exactly what Dotty and Lucy did as Miranda listened with interest.
    ‘And what hobbies do you both like?’ she asked.
    Lucy fell silent and lowered her eyes. There was little time for hobbies in her life with looking after Mary, holding down a full-time job and running a home.
    ‘Well, I know that you like writing, dear,’ Miranda said, turning her attention to Dotty. ‘In fact, I hope you don’t mind but Annabelle gave me the short story you lent her and I read it straight through. I couldn’t put it down! I think you have a rare gift for storytelling and I’d really love to read some of your other work – if you wouldn’t object, that is . . .’ Her voice trailed away uncertainly as Dotty blushed a dull pillar-box red.
    ‘I er . . . I’ve never shown anyone my work before until Annabelle and Lucy,’ she stammered self-consciously, ‘apart, that is, from Miss Timms at the orphanage where I was brought up. It was she who encouraged me to write in the first place. I always found it hard to mix and show my feelings, but she told me that I could put all my dreams and feelings down on paper and it does really work. I find that when I’m writing I can go anywhere and be anyone I want . . .’ She lowered her eyes and started fidgeting, but not before Miranda had seen how animated she had become when she spoke of her writing.
    ‘I read it too, last night,’ Annabelle chipped in. ‘And I have to say I agree. It really was first-rate.’
    ‘Then in that case I suppose I could let you both read some more.’ Dotty was almost cringing with embarrassment and pleasure, and not used to being the focus of attention, wasn’t at all sure how to act.
    ‘I shall look forward to that then. But now Annabelle, why don’t you show your friends up to your room and listen to some music or something. I’ll keep little Mary here with me.’
    Lucy opened her mouth to object but Miranda held her hand up. ‘She will be perfectly all right down here,’ she promised her with an indulgent smile in the child’s direction. ‘Go on, off with you and enjoy a little free time while you can. I shall tell Mary the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears while we have a cuddle in front of the fire. It used to be one of Annabelle’s favourites when she was a little girl, and if I had a pound note for every time I’d told it to her, I would be a very rich woman by now.’
    The girls obediently followed Annabelle from the room, their eyes on stalks as they moved through the beautiful house. It was like entering another world, especially for Dotty, brought up in the austere confines of an orphanage.
    Lucy whistled quietly in awe when Annabelle showed them into her bedroom. The main colour scheme varied from the lightest pink to a deep rose, and it looked warm and inviting.
    ‘I have to admit it’s not usually as neat as this,’ Annabelle said truthfully. ‘At least, not since Mummy had to let our cleaner go, but I had a tidy-up because I knew you were coming.’
    ‘It’s really beautiful!’ Lucy gasped. ‘You’re so lucky, Annabelle.’
    ‘I know I am,’ Annabelle said, and her chest