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

want you to find out some other way. I don’t blame you for being angry.

But how I miss you! I keep thinking of that dance we had. You said you’d never had a decent partner but you followed my steps so perfectly – even in bare feet! For me it was a magical evening and I hoped you felt it was a special birthday. And then you let me kiss you. I drove home with my head in the clouds! I couldn’t wait to see you again, little knowing what a dreadful meeting that was to be.

Dearest Ronnie, can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I know I mustn’t hope to see you again, but at least if I know you are no longer angry with me, it will be of some consolation.

Yours,

Michael

Ronnie gulped, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in her throat, as she read his last sentence. She’d missed him too. Terribly. Spikes of guilt stabbed her. She hadn’t realised how much she’d hurt him. Completely unnecessarily. So he’d thought that evening at the Palais de Danse had been magical as well. A little quiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t known men could feel magical about a girl, but there it was in black and white.

‘Is it bad news, Ron?’ Jessica said.

Ronnie shook her head. ‘Not really … well, I suppose it is.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s from Michael,’ she added flatly.

‘Michael! What does he say?’

‘He’s asked me to forgive him. But it wasn’t his fault. I never gave him a chance to explain.’ She burst into pent-up sobs.

‘I don’t know about all this,’ Sally said. ‘What did he do that you have to forgive him?’

Jessica quickly put Sally in the picture and for once Sally just listened, only making sympathetic noises.

‘Pass the envelope,’ Jessica said. Ronnie handed it to her and she studied it. ‘I thought so.’ She gave it back to Ronnie. ‘Look at the flap. What does that tell you?’

Ronnie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It’s just where the envelope is stuck down.’

‘Let me look,’ Sally said. She peered at the back of the envelope and looked straight at Jessica. ‘I see what you mean. It’s wrinkled, which tells me it’s been bloody steamed open, and I’ve had enough experience with my mother steaming all my post until I left home to do my nursing.’

Ronnie sat in shocked silence. Finally she stuttered, ‘B-but who—?’

Sally frowned. ‘You know something, Ron. I think Angela has something to do with this.’

Ronnie’s head jerked up. ‘Angela? What on earth do you mean?’

‘Well, I may be wrong but she said something that wasn’t very nice just before she left.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Ronnie raised her eyebrows.

Sally hesitated. ‘At the time I just put it down to her general bitchiness, but she said she couldn’t bear to share a boat a minute longer with a hoity-toity know-all and a stupid little schoolgirl who was after every man in sight. And as she was living in the butty at the time I could only assume she meant Jess and you.’

Stupid little schoolgirl after every man in sight. Was that how the others saw her? Ronnie’s eyes stung with indignation.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,’ Sally said.

‘No, I’m glad you did. Because if that’s how she felt about me I won’t feel awful thinking she may have deliberately held my letter back.’

‘Well, that’s what it looks like to me,’ Sally said.

‘And we’re sure it wouldn’t be Deadly Dora?’ Jessica threw out the question.

Sally shook her head. ‘Definitely not. We got to know her better as she spent more time with us in Persephone. She tells it like it is but I don’t see her being devious. And she’s actually quite soft underneath that tough exterior.’

‘I’d say the same,’ Ronnie said, vivid images of the interview room still fresh in her mind.

‘Then it’s got to be Angela,’ Jessica said. ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with the woman. She never mentioned her family at all. We know absolutely nothing about her.’

‘Maybe she was jealous that we all became pals and she felt left out,’ Sally put in.

‘She didn’t bother to make an effort,’ Ronnie said. ‘I don’t remember her ever saying anything nice.’

‘Well, we’ll never know for sure if she spirited your letter away but I’d take a bet on it.’ Jessica looked at Ronnie. ‘The important thing is, what are you going to do about the letter, as poor Michael must have given up hope by now?’ She patted Ronnie’s hand. ‘And while you’re thinking about it, Sally and I will get some supper on the table.’

Ronnie couldn’t rally her brain to think straight. First Angela – if it was Angela – holding back her private letter, and then Michael thinking his letter asking her to forgive him hadn’t made any difference. He’d written it less than a fortnight after that horrible day in February but it was now June. He’d think she definitely didn’t want to make any contact with him. She blinked back the threatening tears. He would have given up on her.

But even after all this time there must be some way she could let him know it was her who’d behaved like a schoolgirl. Angela was right, for once. Or was it too late and she should leave well alone?

What would Dad tell her to do? She didn’t have to imagine. She knew he would say, ‘When there is anything difficult to face and you must make a decision, then follow your heart. It will never let you down.’ She could visualise her father actually saying the words that she’d always thought were rather soppy. But not now. Oh, not now. Her heart, she was sure, was the only thing to be certain of.

Somehow she had to make Michael see she treasured their friendship and she was so sorry she’d allowed it to be threatened. But how? They wouldn’t be back to London for two or three more days, and