Rosie’s War. Kay Brellend
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Название: Rosie’s War
Автор: Kay Brellend
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
isbn: 9780007575312
isbn:
‘Don’t fancy getting drenched.’ Gertie put the flask back in her bag and they headed off side by side, pulling the hoods up on the prams in preparation for a downpour.
‘I volunteered to work as an ambulance auxiliary. I’ve been talking about making myself useful for ages, so I finally did something about it.’
Gertie looked surprised, then smiled. ‘Glad to hear it! They’ll take you on, no trouble, especially if a fellow interviews you.’ She glanced sideways at Rosie’s stylish skirt and blouse, so much prettier than the faded cotton frock she was wearing herself.
‘A woman interviewed me. And I got a letter this morning offering me a job.’
‘Good for you!’ Gertie glanced at Hope. ‘Yer stepmother going to mind the little ’un for you?’
‘Dad’ll help out as Doris is working.’
‘I’ll give a hand babysitting, if you like,’ Gertie volunteered. She’s such a cutie it’d be a pleasure to have her round to play with Vicky.’
‘Dad got moody when I spoke about getting Hope a nursery place. He’s determined to mind her,’ Rosie quickly rattled off. She liked Gertie but the woman was a rough-and-ready sort and she didn’t know enough about the Grimes family to let Hope stay there.
Rosie felt bad for thinking she was a better mother than Gertie. Considering what life had thrown at the poor woman she deserved praise for coping so well.
At the park gates Rosie turned to give Gertie a spontaneous hug. ‘Thanks … for everything.’
‘Ain’t done nothing,’ Gertie replied bashfully.
‘Yeah you have, and I’m so glad we bumped into each other that day. Don’t know what my shifts are going to be yet but I hope we can keep on meeting up.’
Gertie took a scrap of paper from her bag. ‘Shopping list,’ she explained the spidery scrawl filling half of one side. Turning it over she printed her address on it with a stub of pencil found in a pocket. ‘There. When you get a day off, come and see me, if you like. I’m usually about.’
With a wave the two women quickly set off in opposite directions as fat raindrops were spotting the hoods of the children’s prams.
It had been clear skies when Rosie had set out for a picnic so she hadn’t bothered to stuff a scarf in her pocket, fearing the weather might turn. By the time she trotted up to her front door her stylish fair locks were glued to her cheeks in sleek rat’s-tails.
‘Crikey, you did get caught in it, didn’t you?’ John clucked his tongue while inspecting his daughter’s bedraggled figure.
Rosie gave her head a shake and quickly unbuttoned her cardigan and took it off, hanging the sodden wool over a chair back.
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