of the dip.â
âIâm glad to hear it,â Jenny said. âWeâre walking into the village.â
âIt shouldnât interfere with your plans,â the woman called. âLovely to have met you.â
âWonder why somebody that posh is renting one of John Bardleyâs old cottages,â Jenny said, as they watched Iris Bland stumping off up the lane. âI bet sheâs come out ofthe way of the bombing. Or sheâs been bombed out.â
âShe might be a spy.â
âOh aye, and whatâs she spying at in Bardleyâs field?â
âShe could be sending messages to her leader.â
âSheâll be meeting her maker, if she eats them things in her basket. They looked like toadstools. You never know, she might want some washing or cleaning done. Though she doesnât look like she has much. Mind you, you can never tell with some posh folk.â
The old woman was right; once they reached the little stone bridge, the fog disappeared. In the sunlight, the lane looked so much prettier than it had when sheâd walked along it the day before. On both sides, the hedgerows stretched into the distance, their glittering line broken only by the occasional stand of trees or an isolated cottage. Between the white lacy branches of one small coppice, she could see an old mansion and wondered how sheâd missed it yesterday.
âWho lives there?â she asked.
âItâs been empty a good while. Iâve heard itâs going to be turned into a hospital, once they open the Second Front.â
In the early morning sunshine, the curtains of spidersâ webs hanging from the iron gates appeared to have been stitched together with thousands of tiny glass beads. The tightly closed gates made Ruby think of the opening stage set of
Sleeping Beauty,
when Pearl had played the fairy godmother at the Theatre Royal. Sheâd gone to watch the panto with her father. From her place in the darkened stalls, Ruby had listened to the audience applause as the curtain went up, revealing the gates to the enchanted castle and her mother dressed in a beautiful ballet dress.
At the end of the lane, before they turned down the road of small, pebble-dashed semis sheâd walked along with Bess, they came to the large house with the nameplate on the gate.
âItâs his shirts weâre washing,â Jenny said. âHeâs very good about your granddadâs medicine. He knows he was gassed, so he doesnât charge as much for it. He worked in one of the army hospitals as a young man. He knows what it was like. But youâd best not get ill. We canât expect him to take you on for free as well.â
The school was next to the church and consisted of two single-storey buildings. The smaller one was made of red brick, and the other was of older smoke-blackened brick and had tall windows.
âThatâs the church hall and the infant school,â Jenny said, as they walked by the red-brick building and across the playground. âThe older children are in this other place. Before the church was built, it was a chapel. Now, keep your mouth shut, unless youâre spoken to,â Jenny warned, as they came to the heavy wooden door at the end of the old chapel, âand donât say anything about being here for a holiday.â
They stood together inside a small, square hallway. Through an open door, Ruby could see a table piled with papers and books. Near the door were two battered easy chairs; one had a coat over the back, and the other had a large handbag and a packet of ten Playerâs cigarettes on the arm.
âLooks like where the teachers have their tea,â Jenny said.
The other door was closed. Jenny put her ear to it and listened.
âThatâs one of the classrooms,â she said, as the sound of muffled chanting escaped through the stout door. âWeâll have to wait here until theyâve finished. It