Free Poppy's War by Lily Baxter

backwards in an orderly fashion by the girls and a disorderly one by the boys, who earned a sharp rebuke. The story was
Treasure Island
and Poppy sighed with relief. She was more than familiar with the adventures of Jim Hawkins and Squire Trelawney. Here she was on familiar ground and she began to relax. The reading began with the front row and some of the children stuttered and stumbled over the words, mumbling tonelessly. Some of the evacuees could read well but there were some, including Colin, who found it almost impossible. He had to be taken to the boys’ toilets by one of the older girls when he suffered yet another little accident.
    When it came to Poppy’s turn, she stood up and began to read, but she was nervous and the words leapt about the page like a mass of squiggly tadpoles.
    ‘Speak up, Poppy,’ Miss Morris said sternly. ‘We all want to hear the story, but we can’t hear if you whisper.’
    A snigger from Sid made Poppy even more determined to do her best. As she launched once again into the story she forgot that she was in a hostile environment. Ignoring the stares of the village children and the smirking face of Sid Guppy, she forgot that the room smelt of unwashed bodies and blackboard paint with overtones of dust and chalk. She became enthralled in the tale of pirates and buried treasure, and as she read the class quietened down and began to listen. Poppy was transported to another world and it was almost a shock when Miss Morris told her to stop.
    ‘Thank you, Poppy. That was very good indeed. You may sit down.’
    Poppy sat down but an excruciating pain made her leap from her seat with a yelp of pain. Sid sniggered and a ripple of laughter ran through the class. Poppy found a drawing pin embedded in her right buttock and she wrenched it out, gritting her teeth and blinking hard in an effort not to cry.
    ‘Good heavens, girl. What’s the matter?’ Miss Morris hurried along the aisle between the desks. ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘I was stung, miss,’ Poppy said, clutching the drawing pin in her fisted hand.
    ‘It must have been a wasp. Children, you must be careful. Wasps get very sleepy at this time of year. Poppy, you’d better come into the kitchen and we’ll find something to put on it.’
    Poppy followed Miss Morris into the tiny kitchen.
    ‘Now what is best?’ Miss Morris said, opening a cupboard and peering inside. ‘Vinegar or blue bag? It will have to be vinegar. Show me where it hurts.’
    Amy was waiting at the school gate when Poppy flew out of the building ahead of the rest of the children. She had managed to kick Sid Guppy on the shins before he got the first punch in at break, and although she had been severely reprimanded Miss Morris seemed to have a fair idea who had started the fight.
    Amy greeted her with a sweet smile. ‘How was your first day, Poppy?’
    ‘I’m never going back there.’ Crossing her fingers, Poppy hoped that Amy would not notice the ink-stain on the back of her blouse.
    ‘Oh, surely it can’t have been as bad as that?’
    ‘It was worse! I’d rather be bombed in West Ham than go back in there.’
    Amy stood aside as a stream of children poured out of the school and raced off in different directions shouting and screeching as if they had just escaped from the zoo.
    ‘What happened to upset you so much?’
    ‘I can’t tell you.’
    ‘We’ll see about that. It’s my guess you’ve been bullied and I won’t stand for it.’ Taking Poppy by the hand Amy marched her back into the school. ‘Wait here by the coat racks. I’m going to sort this out once and for all.’
    Poppy watched in amazement as sweet and gentle Amy turned into an avenging angel and stormed into the classroom, slamming the door behind her. Sid poked his head round the outer door and grinned at her. ‘I’ll get you tomorrow, Popeye. See if I don’t.’
    ‘Bugger off, Sid Guppy.’
    His shocked face was reward enough for Poppy. He turned and fled as Amy and Miss Dobson