Free Secrets of a Charmed Life by Susan Meissner

the specter of a second evacuation of London’s children. Emmy gave it little thought. Mum had kept them back during the first one; she’d do the same if there was another.
    Emmy had been happy to stay behind during the first evacuation.
    And now she was insistent that she stay behind for the second.
    But this time, Mum would not hear of it.
    For half an hour Emmy argued with her.
    Emmy was too old to be evacuated.
    There was no real danger.
    How did Mum know they would be safe just because they weren’t in London?
    And the real reason, of course. Emmy had a job. And a dress designer interested in seeing her sketches.
    Emmy was not going.
    Mum had an answer for every excuse Emmy gave her. The letter in her hand said every child fifteen and younger was to be evacuated. The danger was genuine. The only safe place was in the country.
    As for Emmy’s little job, as Mum called it, did Emmy really think there would be fittings for wedding dresses with the war looming for real now, overhead?
    Besides, Julia could not go alone. Not after what they had seen happen to classmates the last time.
    “You have to go with her,” Mum said. “We’re done talking about it. You’re going.”
    “Please don’t make me, Mum.”
    “It’s not up to me!”
    “Yes, it is. You can do what you did last time. Just refuse to comply.”
    Mum’s eyes had glossed shiny with emotion. “This time it’s different. You really must go, Emmy. It is for the best.”
    Emmy wanted to grab her mother by the shoulders and shake her. Shake her until she told Emmy everything.
    “The best for you, you mean,” Emmy said instead. “Now you can spend the night with whomever you wish, whenever you wish, and as often as you wish.”
    Emmy waited for the slap across her face. She wanted it. She wanted to feel the sting of Mum’s reproach. She wanted the welt to rise on her skin and blossom crimson in front of Mum.
    Mum raised her hand slightly and Emmy braced herself for the impact.
    But the slap didn’t come. Mum lowered her arm and a second later it hung loose at her side.
    “You and Julia are leaving on Wednesday,” she said.“Don’t tell her about Neville. She doesn’t need to know right now and this is going to be hard enough. You have to go with her, Em. Hate me if you want, but you know I can’t send her away alone. You know I can’t.”
    Mum turned and walked out of the kitchen.
    Emmy felt as if she had been slapped anyway.
    *   *   *
    EMMY dreaded telling Mrs. Crofton that she was being forced to leave London. For the next two days after Mum got the notice, she imagined herself arriving for work on Tuesday and telling Mrs. Crofton she was being evacuated. She pictured Mrs. Crofton replying that she would not be able to keep the job open until Emmy could return. Emmy rehearsed hearing Mrs. Crofton say that there was no way now to hide Emmy’s age from her cousin, and that Emmy would have to hope she could win him over when she was older, assuming he still had any interest. Emmy pictured Mrs. Crofton muttering she should never have hired Emmy in the first place. She didn’t want to keep hearing those words in her head, but they played and replayed over and over until it seemed like she had already told Mrs. Crofton and the dream was already dead. Everything about the situation seemed so ridiculously unfair. Emmy couldn’t completely blame Mum for the turn of events, but she needed to blame someone for the war and Emmy was angry at her mother for insisting she evacuate for Julia’s sake, as though Emmy’s own safety were not a consideration.
    Mum came home Monday evening from a meeting at the school with a list of things the girls were to bring and not bring. Julia, excited to be going on a train to the country like some privileged heiress, was full of questions. Shewas enthralled at the idea of spending the autumn at a country home and riding a horse—as if all country homes had one—and growing her own pumpkins and skipping stones