Orphans of War Read Free Page A

Bowles.
    Sandra had the thickest long ropes of plaits reaching down to her waist and she was always tossing them over her shoulder to show how thick and glossy they were. Her ribbons were crisp and made of gold satin to match the stripes on their blazers.
    Maddy’s own plaits were weedy little wiry things because she had curly black hair that didn’t grow very fast and it was a struggle to stop bits spilling out.
    Sandy was showing off as usual, and Maddy couldn’t resist clasping the two ropes in a vice grip as theydangled into her thick hymn book, so that when they all rose to sing ‘Lord dismiss us with thy blessing’, Sandra yelped and her head was yanked back.
    Maddy didn’t know where to hide her satisfaction, but Miss Connaught saw the dirty deed and it was the last straw after a list of detentions and lines. Nobody listened to her side of the tale–how she’d been the object of Sandra’s tormenting for months. No, she would not miss St Hilda’s one bit.
    It wasn’t her fault she was born with a funny eye that didn’t follow her other. Mummy explained that she must wait until she was older and fully grown before the surgeon would be able to correct it properly but that was years away. There’d been one operation when she was younger but it hadn’t worked. Being pretty in the first place would have helped but when Mummy looked at her she always sighed and said she must come from the horsy side of the Belfield family, being good at sport, with long legs.
    They never talked much about Daddy’s family, the Belfields, and never visited them. They lived in Yorkshire somewhere. There were no cards or presents exchanged at Christmas either.
    Daddy met Mummy when he was recovering after the Great War and she was a singer and dancer in a troupe. He was musical too and spent hours playing the piano in the hospital. They’d fallen in love when Mummy went to sing to them. It was all very romantic.
    Maddy’s first memories were of singing and laughter and dancing when they visited Granny and Grandpa’s pub near Preston. She’d stayed with them when theBellaires were on tour. Grandpa died and Granny came to work with George when Auntie Kath ran away with the cellar man.
    Now everything was changed because of this war and everyone was on the move here and there. She just wanted to sit in the tree with Bertie, the cocker spaniel, sitting guard at the base. He was her best friend and keeper of all her secrets.
    When it was getting dusk it was time to do her evening chores, closing curtains and making sure that Bertie and the hens got fed for the evening. Now that she’d been expelled, Maddy wasn’t so sure about going to a new school after all. What if it was worse than St Hilda’s?
    ‘Go and get us some fish and chips,’ yelled Granny from the doorway. ‘I’m too whacked to make tea tonight. The books are making my eyes ache. Here’s my purse. The one in Entwistle Street will be open tonight. And no vinegar on mine…’
    Maddy jumped down and shot off for her mac. There was no time to call Bertie in from the field. Fish and chips were always a treat. St Hilda’s would call them ‘common’ but she didn’t care.
    She heard Moaning Minnie, the siren, cranking up the air-raid warning as the queue for fish and chips shuffled slowly through the door. Maddy looked up at the night sky, leaning on the gleaming chrome and black and green façade of the fish bar.
    Outside, little torches flickered in an arc of light on the pavements as people scurried by.
    ‘Looks as if Manchester is getting another pastingtonight!’ sighed an old man as he sprinkled salt all over his battered fish.
    ‘Go easy with that, Stan. There’s a war on,’ shouted the fish fryer.
    Maddy could feel her stomach rumbling. The smell of the batter, salt and pea broth was tempting. This was a rare treat as Gran liked to cook her own dishes. If only the sirens would stop screaming.
    Chadley was getting off lightly in the recent air raids as