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

‘I’m not sure I’d know.’

Margaret’s voice was so low Ronnie could barely hear her. Oh, if only she hadn’t told Jess how hungry she was, Jess would be here now. Margaret’s confession that she was terrified of going into the tunnel didn’t exactly do anything for her own nervousness. Ronnie wasn’t scared of the dark – that wasn’t it at all – but she was apprehensive of trying to steer the butty in a narrow space and not allowing it to smash into the sides as had happened on the bank a little while ago. And she could tell Margaret was not going to be any help.

Trying not to alarm the girl, Ronnie smiled. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You’ll be fine.’

Margaret didn’t answer but kept her eyes wide as she fixed them straight ahead. Persephone disappeared through the entrance.

Ronnie, sensing Margaret’s fear, patted her hand as the tunnel entrance loomed. ‘We’re going in. Hold on.’

The atmosphere immediately changed from a watery winter sun to blackness. The dank foul air hit Ronnie’s nostrils and it took all her concentration to keep her focus, though she couldn’t really make out anything in front of her. It was like steering into a dungeon and the dim light from the oil lamp wasn’t helping matters. Margaret said something but Ronnie couldn’t hear what she was saying above the noise and vibration of Persephone’s engine echoing round the walls on either side.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before Margaret suddenly gave a groan that made Ronnie’s blood run cold.

Ronnie swung round. ‘What is it?’

She could barely see the outline of the girl’s face, it was so dark.

‘I don’t feel very—’ Margaret broke off. There was a silence.

‘Speak up! I can’t hear you. What’s the matter? Tell me!’

‘I’m going to be sick.’

‘WHAT!’

‘I’m so scared, Ronnie. I told you … it’s so black. Please get me out of here.’

‘How can I?’ Ronnie shouted above the noise of the motorboat in front, its engine thrumming and its exhaust reverberating around the dripping tunnel walls. She tried to quell her impatience. ‘There’s nowhere to turn round. You can see that. We have to just carry on. It’s too dangerous for you to go down below when you can’t see where you’re going but you can’t be sick up here. We won’t see where you’ve been and one of us could slip.’

And I don’t want it to be me, she thought grimly. Was this the time to use the light to signal if there was a problem? But who would see it?

‘I feel faint.’

‘Put your head down between your knees!’

‘I daren’t move,’ Margaret said in a choked voice.

Ronnie felt for Margaret’s hand. It was as cold and clammy as the tunnel and she could hear Margaret’s breath coming in quick jerky bursts. Ronnie gave a start. Maybe Margaret really was ill. But they were trapped. She felt in her jacket pocket where she usually kept a few boiled sweets to stop herself thinking of food. She brought one out and unwrapped it.

‘Open your mouth,’ she said. ‘I’m giving you a sweet. Just keep thinking you’ll be all right. I know you’ll be all right.’

‘I’m not brave like you, Ronnie.’

‘Yes, you are,’ Ronnie said, trying to put some conviction into the words. ‘You’re as brave as anyone else here, me included. You wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t.’

Margaret’s answer was lost in the engine noise ahead.

‘I can’t hear you,’ Ronnie said, giving Margaret’s trembling arm a light squeeze. Poor Margaret. She didn’t sound as though she’d had a particularly happy life. Ronnie remembered all the times she’d grumbled at her mother. Yes, Raine and Suzy and I have all been at the sharp end of Maman trying to stop us doing what we love and treating us like naughty children, Ronnie thought, but she doesn’t do it out of spite or cruelty. Suzy always says it’s out of fear.

Talking of fear, Margaret was certainly terrified of the tunnel and if Ronnie was honest, she wasn’t so keen on the dark damp passage herself. She’d imagined a tunnel – dark, of course, but well lit by the boats’ lights. As it was, she could barely make out the brick walls that Penelope was almost brushing on one side. She gave a thought to the men who’d built it. There must have been many accidents from the explosives they were bound to have used. She and the others would be coming into daylight soon but those men would have spent all day and every day in the dark. What a horrible existence. The image made her shudder.

She realised Margaret had gone very quiet.

‘Margaret, are you feeling any better?’

But there was only silence.

‘For God’s sake, Margaret, speak to me!’

And then in front of her a pinprick of light appeared. At first she thought they must be about to come out of the tunnel until Margaret screamed, piercing her ears, slicing through her eardrums, making her heart pound.

‘LOOK OUT!’ Margaret screamed again.

‘What is it? I can’t see a thing. What’s happened to the oil lamp? The light’s completely gone!’ Ronnie fought to keep the panic from her voice but her lips trembled and she didn’t know if her words made sense. It must have gone out with all that water from the tunnel walls dripping onto it.

‘BOAT COMING!’ Margaret screamed.

Oh, dear God. Surely there wasn’t room for another boat to pass. Ronnie’s stomach churned. If only she could see – judge the space. See where Dora was. She’d said a seven-footer could squeeze by but Ronnie couldn’t tell if she was close enough to the wall to allow it. Grimly hanging on to the tiller, she felt the butty moving faster, knowing she had no control. No brakes. Heart pounding in her ears, she realised her speed was set by the motor in front.

In her panic Ronnie pulled the tiller too hard and felt the butty bump against the wall. Forgetting Dora’s warning, she frantically used her fist to