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though it was stifling her. She couldn’t breathe. Unnerved by so many eyes staring at her, she jumped up.

‘Where yer goin’?’ Sid called. ‘I gotta keep an eye on yer. Yer heard Bob tell me, didn’t yer?’

Ronnie sat down again and gulped down half of her drink. It was cool and sharp. She prayed Bob wouldn’t be long so she could just get out of here.

The minutes ticked by. She watched the clock. Ten minutes. Quarter of an hour. Now twenty. Ronnie finished her drink, thankful her feet had finally thawed and were tingling. At least it meant there was some life. She looked up as Bob appeared, carrying a basket that exuded a wonderfully enticing smell. He was grinning.

‘Tell the ladies to have this on me,’ he said, putting up his other hand to stop any argument. ‘And don’t worry about being late back.’ He paused. ‘Who’s your trainer, anyway?’

‘Dora—’

‘Dora Dummitt?’ he interrupted.

‘You know her?’

‘All the folk round here know her. She’ll understand better than anyone if you’re stopping for a drink.’ He gave a hoot of laughter, then suddenly tapped the side of his head. ‘I’ve just thought. Old Jack Soames from the White Hart telephoned here no more than half an hour ago, asking if I’d seen her. Apparently, the police are trying to get hold of her.’ He roared with laughter again. ‘I wonder what she’s been up to this time.’

Ronnie’s heart jolted. She glanced at Sid who was just heaving out of his chair. She didn’t want him with her, being nosy about Dora.

‘I really can manage on my own now you’ve put the dish in a basket,’ she told Bob.

He looked over to Sid, then back to Ronnie. Seeming to understand, he nodded to her. ‘If you’re sure, love.’

‘I am.’ Ronnie smiled at him, taking the basket before he changed his mind. ‘And thank you so much for not charging. It’s really kind of you.’

‘Hope you and the ladies enjoy it,’ he said, ‘though I will have me dish and basket back.’

‘Of course. I’ll bring them back tomorrow morning.’

Twice Ronnie almost slipped and twice she managed to keep upright but it took all her concentration to stop herself from falling over. Thank goodness. There were the boats. Even before she approached the motorboat she could hear the girls talking. Well, she’d give Dora the message privately. It was none of her or the other girls’ business to know the reason why the police wanted to question their trainer.

Chapter Twenty-Two

She’d made it! Ronnie almost laughed aloud thinking how pleased Dora would be when she saw the dinner Bob had kindly packed for everyone. She hadn’t managed to buy any food but at least they’d be all right tonight, and she knew there was plenty of porridge and evaporated milk for the morning. The village shop would be open tomorrow when surely the sun would finally come out and melt the snow.

Ronnie was just about to climb on board, balancing the basket, when a figure stepped from the hatch of Persephone. Constable Michael Scott! So he’d already found Dora. Why was he so intent on interviewing her again? Surely they’d found out all they needed to know when he and the sergeant came to inspect the boats that time.

Those men at the pub hinted Dora was probably up to no good. Oh, it was too embarrassing for words.

She waited for Michael to recognise her and when he did, his expression was grim. Her heart lurched. Supposing Dora was arrested. She and the others were still training. They wouldn’t have a clue what to do or even where to go. All this was muddling through her head when he reached her on the towpath.

‘Ronnie! Everyone’s wondering where you’d got to. Dora’s not at all pleased you’ve been gone so long.’

‘She knew I was going to the village to get some rations,’ Ronnie said defensively. She held out the basket. ‘Look! I’ve brought them dinner tonight. That should put Dora in a better mood.’

‘I doubt it.’ Michael Scott regarded her. ‘But of course you wouldn’t know what I’ve come for.’

‘No, I don’t, unless it’s checking for stuff on the black market again.’

‘No, it wasn’t, though I wish it were.’

Ronnie frowned. ‘What is it, then?’

He was silent as though wondering what to say. A terrible foreboding flooded through her.

He cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Ronnie, I don’t know how to say this …’ His eyes were fixed on her. ‘You must be brave.’

Her heart began to pound. He was about to say something awful – she knew it. Not Raine or Suzy. Don’t let anything have happened to them. Panic clawed at her throat.

‘Not one of my sisters? Or my mother?’ She grabbed his arm.

He shook his head. ‘No, love, it’s not them.’

‘It’s Margaret, isn’t it?’ This time her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

‘Yes. She took a turn for the worse this morning.’

Ronnie flinched. ‘W-will she be all right?’ She pulled at his coat sleeve, willing him to say what she wanted to hear.

‘I’m afraid not.’ He looked down at her, his eyes warm with compassion. ‘I’m so sorry but there’s no easy way to tell you – Margaret died early this morning.’

Ronnie’s basket fell from her grasp but she was hardly aware. Her eyes went wide as she fixed them on him. It couldn’t be true.

‘B-but she was getting better … the hospital said so. Why would they say such a thing if it wasn’t true?’

‘I know that’s what we were told,’ he said, watching her. ‘But sometimes pneumonia plays tricks.’

‘I can’t believe it. She’s so young. She’s—’

Ronnie broke off sobbing. Strong arms encircled her, supporting her, then drew her closer.

‘I just can’t believe it.’ Ronnie’s voice was muffled against his coat. She felt Michael’s hand stroke her hair.

‘Shhhh.’ He tilted up her face until her eyes were almost level with his. ‘I feel badly, too. It’s because I knew her, even though it was just that brief time, but enough to see that

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