A Sister's War Molly Green (e book reader pdf .txt) 📖

and openin’s, but for now we need to crack on.’ She grinned at her feeble joke, looking at Ronnie. ‘Yous’ve got responsibility this mornin’, Ver-ron-eek, and that’s exactly why I’m puttin’ yer on the tiller because yer only took it for a short time the other day over a long pound and I don’t want it forgotten what I learnt yer. It’s another experience in the tunnel. All right?’

Ronnie nodded. Then Dora’s words hit her. She’d be guiding the butty through a tunnel which the woman had already described as tricky. Never mind that Dora was in the lead. Persephone would be a long way ahead on the seventy-foot snubber. Thank goodness Dora had no idea how her stomach was fluttering. Was Dora expecting too much from them? They’d only been training for just over a week. She glanced at Margaret who was standing beside her, her small pinched face looking even paler under her sou’wester.

‘Are you okay, Margaret?’ Ronnie asked softly.

‘I’m claustrophobic,’ Margaret said, almost apologetically. ‘I can’t stand being in the dark. My father used to lock me in a cupboard when I was little. He used to constantly call me a “very bad girl”, though I don’t remember doing anything to deserve that sort of punishment.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was so relieved when he died. I think Mum was, too. She’d had a dreadful life with him. But she met Graham Webb five years later, who’s now my stepfather. He’s the exact opposite … he’s lovely. He even adopted me. But I’ve never forgotten my father and what he did to me.’

Ronnie’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, Margaret, how cruel. I can’t imagine how frightened you must have been.’

‘And now we’ll be going through a horrible black tunnel. I could probably manage a short one but this is two miles. I won’t be able to see the end of it.’

‘Didn’t you realise you’d be going through tunnels when you signed up?’ Ronnie said.

‘Not really – oh, I don’t know.’ Margaret gave her a shaky smile. ‘I expect I’ll be all right.’

‘When you ladies have finished yapping,’ Dora’s strident tones were flung at them from a few yards away, ‘p’raps we could all get movin’.’

‘Sorry, Miss Dummitt,’ Ronnie said. She glanced at Margaret. ‘If you want to talk about it later when we’re quiet—’

‘No,’ Margaret said quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have said what I did. Please forget it. I’m just glad I won’t be with Dora in the front.’

‘I’m going in to make a cuppa,’ Jessica announced when Ronnie was settled at Penelope’s tiller, with Margaret sitting on the deck leaning against the low wall nervously chewing her nails. ‘I can’t wait until ten. Do you both want one?’

‘I never turn down a cuppa,’ Ronnie chuckled. ‘You couldn’t do a piece of toast as well, could you?’

‘Now you’re pushing it,’ Jessica laughed. ‘Of course I can. Margaret?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Back in a jiffy.’ Jessica disappeared.

The drizzle had finally stopped. Ronnie shrugged off her raincoat leaving the usual bundle of thick jumpers underneath as she swung one arm above her head. It felt as though it had been released from five days of being trapped inside the sleeve of her coat. She circled her arm, all the time keeping her other hand firmly on the tiller of the seventy-foot narrowboat, then swapped over to swing her other arm. That felt so good. Her faint anxiety about steering through a tunnel was assuaged by knowing the experienced trainer was up ahead. It was actually a relief not to hear Dora constantly ordering everyone about and complaining. She wondered how Angela was getting on with the cleaning and grinned.

She was beginning to enjoy herself. Muscles that had screamed with aches now felt stronger and able to tackle any physical job Dora threw at them. It was still early days and she knew she had masses to learn, yet Dora’s instructions didn’t terrify her as they once had. She’d begun to familiarise herself with the jobs that had to be done and see the logic in some of Dora’s comments that Ronnie had to admit often turned out to be helpful.

It was bliss being deep in the countryside. Just at that moment the sun broke through the cloud, dappling spots of light on the water. There was no warmth in it at this time of year but she lifted her chin towards it for a few moments feeling completely content. She spotted a kingfisher sitting on a dripping, overhanging branch. ‘Good morning,’ she called out, laughing at the ridiculousness of her greeting. The bird eyed her for a second or two before it streaked in front of her, answering her with its zip-zip call, then soared above Penelope, the weak rays of sun catching it in a flash of iridescent blue and orange.

Briefly she closed her eyes to imagine those few moments again. It was as though the bird had been waiting for her to come along, then took flight so he could show off his colours. How privileged she felt. Without warning Maman crossed her mind. Her mother loved cities. She was used to living in the heart of Paris. If only she could try to understand her youngest daughter’s love of the outdoors. Guiltily, Ronnie pushed the thought away that she’d left her mother on her own with only Rusty for company and hoped Maman was at this very moment taking him for a walk. If her mother would give him a chance, she’d find him a wonderful companion.

‘Snack coming up.’ Jessica broke the spell as she tapped Ronnie on the leg and passed up a tray of three mugs and a plate of toast. ‘Sorry I spilt some when I came up the steps. She glanced at the white-faced girl. ‘Are you okay, Margaret?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not worried about the tunnel, are you?’

‘She’ll be fine,’ Ronnie interjected quickly, sure that Margaret wouldn’t want Jess to know she was so nervous.

‘Do you want to change over with me, Ronnie, while you two have your drink?’

‘What