Free Cast the First Stone by Margaret Thornton

aware of the vicar glancing around the coach.
    Then they were off, waving goodbye to the parents standing on the pavement. They were all waving furiously as though their offspring were bound for a journey into the unknown. Some of the mothers were wiping away an odd tear. For many of them it was the first time they had been parted from their children. Others, though, had experienced a separation when their children had been evacuees, not all that long ago it seemed, and this parting brought back memories. Fiona had not been an evacuee. Mary and Wilfred could not have borne to part with her, she was so precious to them, and so, despite the anticipated dangers, they had kept her at home. As it happened their area did not suffer nearly so badly from the bombing raids as some cities had done.
    The teenagers, though, were shedding no tears at the parting; they were too excited thinking of the pleasures that lay ahead. For the majority it was their first visit to the capital city.
    They chattered excitedly, the noise increasing in volume until it sounded like the monkey house at the zoo, Mrs Wilkes – Sheila – remarked to her husband, Colin.
    â€˜Ne’er mind,’ he replied. ‘You can’t blame ’em. It’s a real adventure for most of them, I guess. They’re good kids though, aren’t they? I don’t reckon we’ll have much trouble with them.’
    â€˜We’ve had our instructions, though, haven’t we?’ said Sheila. ‘You know that the Reverend said they were to be supervised at all times. And we did promise.’
    â€˜I think we’ll have to use our own discretion,’ replied Colin. ‘They’ll need a bit of freedom, some time to themselves. It’s not as though they’re a class of infants.’
    â€˜Yes, we’ll have to play it by ear,’ agreed Sheila. ‘We can’t let them wander around London on their own, of course. But they should be alright going round the Festival halls. We couldn’t all keep together anyway. And there’s a fun fair, isn’t there, in Battersea Park? We’ll have to let them loose there, Colin. So long as we make sure they’re back in the hotel for . . . what would you say? Ten o’clock?’
    â€˜Oh, I think we could say half past ten,’ Colin replied. ‘Anyway, let’s wait till we get there, then we can sort out rules and regulations with the young people, and with Rita. There’ll have to be some rules to stick to, and I’m sure the kids will understand. But we must make sure it’s a holiday as well as an educational experience. I must admit I’m as excited as any of ’em.’
    â€˜So am I,’ his wife agreed.
    Colin and Sheila Wilkes were a youngish married couple, both in their early thirties; childless as yet, but they had not given up hope They were fond of children and got on well with young people, both of them being teachers at different primary schools in the area. They had volunteered to take charge of the Youth Club soon after the new vicar had arrived, and Amos Cruikshank had deemed them both eminently suitable. They respected the vicar, but they did not agree with all his rigid views. They were relieved that he had decided not to accompany them on this venture; he intended to visit the Festival later in the year with his wife and son. Sheila and Colin had remarked to one another that there would have been fewer young people on the trip had he decided to go along.
    The hubbub in the coach gradually lessened as they made their way south, out of Yorkshire, into Derbyshire and the Midlands. The driver used the main roads – the A roads – sometimes veering on to the B roads to bypass the busy towns. He was an experienced driver who knew the best stopping places. He knew of a roadside café just outside Birmingham where customers were allowed to eat their own sandwiches provided they bought a drink. They stopped there for