Free Winging It by Annie Dalton Page A

happen!”
    I looked round to see who she was talking to. But she meant me!
    “Keep up the good work!” said Celia, then whisked away down the platform to terrify someone else.
     

Chapter Nine
    T hat night our shelter absolutely rocked! But at last the enemy planes went droning away towards the English Channel and everyone could get some sleep
    Just before dawn, I glanced up and saw Orlando watching over a sleeping soldier.
    “Poor guy came back to find his house a pile of rubble,” he said. “No-one can tell him where his family’s gone.
    The man’s eyelids began to flicker, and his exhausted face took on a strangely peaceful expression.
    “He’s dreaming,” I said softly.
    “He used to be a gardener before he went off to fight,” Orlando said softly. “I thought he could use a restful garden dream.”
    “You can send dreams ?” I breathed.
    He gave me one of his heart melting smiles. “It’s no big deal. I’ll teach you some time - if you’re interested.”
    Neither of us spoke after that, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Actually, it was lovely.
    Morning came and people began to stir, gathering up babies and belongings.
    “Button your coat, Moll,” her mum grumbled. “I’ve got to be at work in half an hour.”
    “My fingers won’t wake up,” Molly complained.
    I felt really sad as they hurried away. I’d watched over them all night. I’d come to know their hopes and fears as well as my own. Perhaps tuning into human thoughts sounds like some major celestial ability? But the fact is, once you’re an angel it’s impossible not to. Their thoughts just jump out at you like radio waves.
    That’s how I knew that Molly’s dad had been killed in action, less than six months ago. Now she and her mum were all alone.
    I’d lost my dad too when I was Molly’s age. He didn’t die though, he left. And I know this is corny, but for ages after that, I was terrified Mum would leave too. One time she was late picking me up from school, and it was like my whole world had totally crumbled to pieces. Perhaps because of that I had a good idea what Molly was going through.
    Lola nudged me. “Control to Melanie,” she teased.
    I tried to raise a smile. “Sorry I was miles away,” I admitted.
    At that moment, Celia wafted up. “I probably won’t need you chaps down here again until tonight,” she said in her cut glass accent. “Why not go and make yourselves useful upstairs?”
    “Excellent,” crowed Lola. “We can be time-tourists!”
    We emerged into a November dawn. It was wonderful to breathe the damp London air after our long night underground.
    “Omigosh,” gasped Amber suddenly.
    A family were eating breakfast in their living room. Dad in his collar and tie, Mum in her apron, plus three little kids, all politely sipping tea and passing the toast and margarine. It was like a scene from a 1940s picture book, except for one little thing. The front had been blown clean off their house.
    I closed my eyes for a moment, as I remembered Reuben saying, “But what’s war for ?”
    Lola had both hands pressed tightly to her mouth. “Whatever kind of bomb does that?” she whispered.
    “The Germans have started sending over these weird buzz bombs,” Ferdy explained earnestly. “They’re like aircraft, except they don’t have pilots. They just point them in the right direction, then when they arrive - BOOM!”
    “My Great Nan called them doodlebugs,” I said. “She said the first time one came over their house, she almost wet herself.” I had a sudden thought. “Ferdy,” I said, “how come you know so much stuff about 1944?”
    When Ferdy tosses his hair about, it means he’s going to say something wildly superior. “Don’t you ever use the Link?”
    “Me?” I bluffed. “Never! I prefer to like, improvise.”
    “Boo, you are so-o bad!” giggled Lola.
    Everywhere, we saw constant reminders of the war; queues outside food shops, sticky tape over the windows, sandbags in doorways.