Girl with Secrets: a coming of age war story and family saga full of romance, mystery and danger in Carol Rivers (readnow .txt) 📖

sight before her was not a scene from a fairy tale, more likely one of hell where people’s homes and possessions resembled piles of charred debris and fountains of water erupting randomly from the severed water mains. Electricity cables lay entangled over the rubble like gigantic spiders webs while pavements erupted like treacherous volcanoes. Armies of bulldozers and tractors manoeuvred the broken, steaming earth into jagged hillocks of waste while telegraph poles were strewn like matches that had fallen from their box. A momentary burst of scarlet flame reminded Daisy of the fiery hole in the kitchen and she shrank away from the poisonous view.

‘I’m gonna take you right up close for a better view,’ Peter tormented, manoeuvring the chair slowly across the uneven, windswept roof.

Daisy screamed. The chair grew closer to the edge of the roof. As the breeze blew her scream away, she could hear Peter laughing. In that terrible moment she understood exactly what he was about to do. Poor Tommy. Had Peter tormented him in the very same way? Now it was her turn. And there was nothing she could do.

‘T  urn yer nose up at me, would yer?’ Peter demanded. ‘You think yer better than me with yer posh talk and stuck up airs and graces? Liked lording it over the other kids, did yer? Well, I’ve never forgotten the day you tried it on with me. I’d ‘ave got you back for them scratches you give me if it hadn’t been for that old cow making an appearance. Had you bang ter rights at the toilets an’ all. I was clever. Made sure no one would’ve seen me - just like no one will see me now.’ He tilted the chair into the wind and Daisy felt her legs go to jelly as the East End spread around them, crushed, battered and bruised. Even from this height she could hear the noises below; ambulances, fire engine bells, the mechanical grunts and groans of recovery vehicles. People in distress and despair as they fought their way out of a crippled world.

‘One good push,’ Peter growled into her ear, ‘that’s all it’ll take.’

‘Peter, please don’t,’ she begged. ‘I didn’t mean to scratch you. But Bobby - ‘

Peter gave a howl of fury. ‘Bobby bleedin’ Purbright! I should’ve done ‘im in when I had me chance. But it ain’t too late, cos I’m starting wiv his sister.’

Daisy was frozen with terror. She stared at the edge of the roof as if hypnotised. One good push and it would all be over. How long would it take for her to reach the ground? How painful would it be when she did? A strangled sob lodged in her throat.

‘You ain’t starting nothin’, chum,’ said a voice suddenly. ‘Unless it’s a stretch at the Scrubs.’

Daisy blinked away the tears that were swimming in her eyes. Who had said that? Was someone else up here too? Was the voice in her imagination? She wanted to look round, but she was too afraid to move.

‘Who the ‘ell are you?’ shouted Peter.

‘A friend of the kid, that’s who. Now step aside from the chair.’

Daisy knew any movement might send the wheels forward but very slowly she managed to crane her head round.

Peter was backing away across the roof, his mouth open and his eyes wide. Mr Cook was following, fists clenched.

‘You’re just an old codger,’ Peter taunted. ‘This ain’t none of yer business.’

‘You’d be surprised what this old codger can still do,’ Mr Cook threatened. ‘Besides, meet my chum here. Think you might know him.’

Another figure joined Mr Cook and Daisy gasped as she recognised Sammy Berger. Bobby’s friend had grown into a tall and muscular young man, equalling Peter in stature. He wore a brown orderly’s coat and Daisy realised he must be one of the hospital staff.

‘Remember me?’ Sammy said threateningly. ‘I’ve been waiting for a day like this … ’

‘So now you know,’ muttered Mr Cook, tugging his cap down with force. ‘And when the coppers arrive, I’m gonna enjoy watching them nick you.’

‘You’ve got nothin’ on me,’ blurted Peter and Daisy saw the colour drain from his face. He stumbled two shaky steps backwards, his eyes searching for escape. ‘Keep yer distance, Fritz! Or I’ll - I’ll - ‘

‘You’ll what?’ challenged Sammy as the breeze caught his dark hair. ‘I’ve learned how to take care of myself. You’re just a gutless coward without your pals around you.’

Mr Cook nodded. ’My money’s on Sammy, here,’ he grinned. ‘I reckon he’s got a score to settle before the law arrives, which if I’m any judge, should be in the next few minutes.’

‘You don’t scare me,’ croaked Peter. ‘Yer bluffin’.’

‘Have it your way, son,’ shrugged Mr Cook. ‘But I warn you, the East End’s crawling with rozzers after last night’s rumpus. So I decided to give the authorities a bit of a prod and left word at the desk that a fifth columnist was spotted up on the roof.’

‘I ain’t no fifth columnist,’ roared Peter, tripping over his own feet in an effort to run. ‘You’re bonkers.’

‘No, chum,’ glowered the older man. ‘I’ve got me head screwed on just where it should be. We all know what happens to traitors like you.’

Peter glared at them, then bolted.

‘Let him go, mate,’ said Mr Cook as he grabbed Sammy’s arm. ‘We’ve done our bit. Let’s get this young ‘un to safety.’

Daisy held her breath as Sammy took the handles of the wheelchair and guided it to safety. She was shaking so much that when she looked up at her rescuer, intending to thank him, she gave a limp squeak instead.

CHAPTER 57

SHE HELD FAST to Sammy’s hand as they made their exit by way of the clanking old lift she had last occupied with Peter Brady. Now however, it was descending and she was in the company of friends who had her complete trust.

Once on the ground floor, they made their way slowly towards the busy entrance, allowing