Peggy's Letters Read Free Page B

Mum. “You take the little bed under the window.”
    I have to climb over the big bed to reach my bed. I plonk down on it. The bed has no bounce. Tommy thinks climbing from one bed to the other is the best game ever.
    â€œTommy’s not going to like it here,” I say, pulling him on to my lap. He wriggles free and leaps back on to Mum’s bed.
    Mum looks at me. Her eyes are serious, and her lips are thin and tight. She lowers her voice.
    â€œPeggy, we’ve nowhere else to go. If Grandad won’t have us, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
    I didn’t realize that this was only a maybe home.
    â€œWe’re all going to have to try very hard to make this work. So I want you to be on your best behavior. Don’t race around, and don’t touch anything. Try and be quiet…”
    Mum’s list of don’ts goes on and on.
    â€œAnd most important of all,” says Mum. “Please help me watch Tommy. He’s at a very busy stage.”
    â€œI’ll try.”
    â€œGood girl, let’s go and put that kettle on.” She catches Tommy. “Come on, young man. It’s time you made friends with your grandfather.”
    â€œI’ll be down in a minute, Mum.” I take my notebook out of my coat pocket. I have to write to Dad.
    Dear Dad
    It’s so scary not belonging anywhere.
    I can tell by Grandad’s face that he doesn’t want us to stay here for long. But if he turns us out, where will we go? Not back to Maud and the horrid church hall, I hope. I wish you were here. You’d work something out. I know you would.
    Love Peggy

6
    Grandad is sitting in the armchair lighting his pipe when I come into the room. I sit on the edge of my chair watching the blue circles of smoke curl up to the ceiling. The silence is louder than the tick of the mantelpiece clock.
    A train goes by. Tommy scurries into the room and runs over to the window making chuffa chuffa noises.
    Is this too much noise? I wonder. Should I make him be quiet? I look over at Grandad.
    He takes his pipe out of his mouth. “I used to like trains when I was a boy,” he says. “Just a blinkin’ noisy nuisancenow.” He puffs more stinky smoke into the room.
    Mum comes in with the tea. While we sip, Tommy takes off his shoe and chuffs it over the rug and under the table. His shoe-train is heading for Grandad’s feet. I hold my breath. What’s Grandad going to do?
    At the last moment Tommy’s train changes direction and chuffs round the back of Grandad’s chair. My breath comes out in a great woosh.
    Mum chatters, Grandad grunts, Tommy chuffs and I sit. The afternoon is as long as a wet week of Sundays, as my old teacher used to say.
    At last the clock chimes five. Grandad levers himself out of his chair and limps over to the window. He pulls the blackout curtains across.
    â€œHaven’t much for tea,” he mumbles.
    My stomach is growling. I often feel hungry these days, and today we missed lunch. I jump up. “We’ve got sausages. They’re in the bottom of the pram.”
    â€œSausages!” says Grandad.
    â€œI’d forgotten all about them,” says Mum.
    â€œThere are some potatoes in the cellar,” says Grandad. “And I can cut us a cabbage from the garden.”
    â€œBubble and Squeak and sausages. Yum!”
    Soon the sausages are sizzling under the grill, and the potatoes and cabbage, mushed up into a hash, are turning golden-brown in the frying pan. The kitchen smells delicious. Grandad gets the plates, and Mum has just finished serving up when the air-raid siren starts whining.
    A cold shiver runs up my back. Please not this house too. I remember my chant. Don’t fall on us today. Don’t fall on us today, but the words have lost their magic.
    â€œMove girl. This way. Quick.”
    I suddenly realize that Grandad is talking to me.
    â€œQuick,” he says again. His forehead iscreased into