Wartime for the Shop Girls. Joanna Toye
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Название: Wartime for the Shop Girls
Автор: Joanna Toye
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Сказки
Серия: The Shop Girls
isbn: 9780008298708
isbn:
‘That’s not very fair!’
‘Nothing’s fair in love and war, Lil,’ Sid chastised. ‘Or, if they were going to be in dock a while, they might have been carted to a camp upcountry. Where the only post’s a forked stick or smoke signals!’
Dora sighed. ‘We’ll have to be patient, then.’
‘Yes, you will,’ said Sid. ‘I dunno why you’re getting so excited. What’s he going to say when he gets there, anyway – “I can’t tell you where I am but there’s lots of sand”?’
‘And what would your letters say?’ Lily felt obliged to defend Reg. ‘“I can’t tell you where I am but there’s lots of water”?’
‘Come on, Lil! I hope I’m a bit better correspondent than Reg!’
It was true – Reg’s letters, short and infrequent, were unlikely ever to give Freda, their post girl, a hernia.
‘Well,’ said Jim, who was privy to the contents – Sid’s letters were generally read out loud – ‘I admit your last darts match sounded pretty gripping, but let’s be honest, the only thing these two really want to hear about is who you’re courting.’
This too, was true. With Sid’s good looks he’d never been short of girlfriends, and it was hard to believe he wasn’t ‘up with the lark, to bed with the Wrens’, as the saying had it.
‘Crikey, don’t spare my blushes, will you?’ Sid, unusually, seemed taken aback by Jim’s directness. ‘You know me, same as always, taking my chances at village dances.’
‘Still no one special, then?’ enquired Dora.
Sid might not like being put on the spot, but Lily was delighted. Jim was quite right. It was the question she – and her mum, she knew – had been dying to ask.
Sid opened his mouth to answer, but the back door opened, and a familiar voice called ‘Only me.’
Lily looked at Jim and Jim looked at Lily, but instead of the eye-rolling that Beryl’s arrival mid-meal (again!) might have caused, their eyes telegraphed concern. It didn’t sound like Beryl’s usual cheery greeting. Nothing like.
Dora twisted in her chair to call through to the scullery.
‘Beryl? Never mind your boots, come on through.’ So she was concerned as well. Normally it was strictly boots off at the door. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
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