Free Jenny's War by Margaret Dickinson

involuntarily around her. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and said, ‘Now shall we find that book and I’ll read to you?’
    Jenny scrambled up. ‘I’ll get it. What’s it called?’
    ‘ The Wind in the Willows. It’s over there on the bookshelf. That one right at the end. That’s it. You’ve got it.’
    Jenny picked it off the shelf and carried it carefully back to Georgie. Then she sat down on the rug beside him.
    ‘Have you read this before?’ he asked.
    Jenny shook her now-drying curls and Georgie paused to marvel at their silky softness and at her bright blue eyes. And when she smiled her cheeks dimpled prettily. She was going to be a beauty when she grew up.
    ‘Nah, Mum never reads to me. Miss Chisholm does, though.’
    ‘Who’s Miss Chisholm?’ Georgie asked, visualizing a kindly, elderly neighbour who took pity on the child. The young man could sense her loneliness even without being told details of her home life.
    ‘My teacher. She brought us here on the train, but she’s gone back to London now.’
    ‘Really?’ Georgie was surprised. ‘I’d heard that teachers were staying to help out at the schools.’
    Jenny shrugged. ‘Well, Miss Chisholm isn’t.’
    She looked down at the book expectantly and so Georgie opened it and began to read. Jenny snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest and putting her thumb in her mouth.
    His voice was deep and soothing and soon Jenny was drowsy. Georgie stopped reading the story and looked towards the door. Beneath her drooping eyelids, Jenny saw Charlotte and Miles standing there.
    ‘We’re reading,’ Georgie said.
    ‘So we see.’
    They came into the room and stood looking down at Jenny and Georgie sitting on the rug.
    ‘I think it’s time she went to bed,’ Jenny heard Charlotte say and though she would have liked to have argued to stay up a little longer, she really hadn’t the energy to resist.
    ‘Right, little one,’ Georgie said. ‘Time for beddibyes.’ He picked her up and Jenny wound her arms round his neck and laid her head against his shoulder.
    ‘Poor little scrap,’ she heard Miles murmur and felt his gentle touch on her curls as Georgie carried her out of the nursery and into the bedroom next door to it. He tucked her into bed and Jenny heard him say, ‘Charlotte and Miles are right next door and I’m just down the corridor. If you want anything, you only have to shout and we’ll come running. All right?’
    ‘Mm.’ She was very tired but there was one more thing she needed before she could go to sleep. ‘Bert?’
    She heard them speaking to each other, asking what it was she wanted. And then Charlotte must have realized for, after a moment, she was tucking the shabby teddy bear in beside her. And then, to Jenny’s astonishment, Charlotte bent to kiss her forehead.
    As the three grown-ups moved away, Jenny drifted into sleep, comforted and reassured by the night light left burning on the mantelpiece and still with the feeling of the gentle kiss on her forehead.

Ten
    By the time Jenny stirred the following morning, the sunshine was streaming in through the gap in the curtains. She stretched, luxuriating in the softness of the bed. She opened her eyes and looked around the room at the pretty wallpaper and the white furniture. Her fingers touched the crisp cotton sheet and the soft blanket covering her. She sat up slowly, still staring about her. Then she remembered: she’d been evacuated with her schoolmates. Into her mind came the picture of Bobby and Sammy’s train departing without her. Her heart contracted at the loss of her friends. Now she was amongst strangers and she had no idea what to expect. Remembering the trauma of the two disgusted spinsters throwing up their hands in horror at the sight of the head lice made her shudder again. She touched her hair. It felt soft and silky and her head no longer itched.
    She sat up in the bed, clutching Bert, and wondered what she ought to do. She could hear