Free Home Sweet Home by Lizzie Lane

anything, let alone the worst bit: that no matter how skilful their flying, they also needed the right night, as little enemy flak as possible, and an enormous amount of luck.

CHAPTER SIX
    The Gates children tumbled out of the door of their cottage wearing the best clothes they had, all hand-me-downs from other families in the village. Baggy coats and cardigans of ill-matched colours were coupled with knitted balaclavas for the boys and berets for the girls. Even their hats looked too big for them – as a consequence most were held on with thin scarves or string and fastened under the chin. All of them were carrying scruffy-looking canvas satchels or brown paper carrier bags containing the requisite clothing for their time on the other side of the River Severn.
    Ruby had arranged for the children to eat a hearty breakfast at the bakery before somebody from the US base arrived with the necessary transport. Feeling sorry for the Gates kids, the villagers had donated eggs, bacon and cheese. Although everyone was on rations, Ruby had persuaded a lot of people to give a little – and a little, certainly in this case, added up to quite a lot.
    Stan had marvelled at Ruby’s power of persuasion.
    â€˜I just stated the facts. That’s what the army does too. Declan did the same with the supplies people at the base. They’ve been amazing.’
    Stan admitted he was impressed. ‘I take my hat off to them all.’
    â€˜That’s the way Declan is. He’s a generous guy, and before you read anything between the lines again, we just enjoy each other’s company. We’re not in love, Dad,’ she said with a sidelong smile. ‘One member of the family marrying a man from the other side of the Atlantic is quite enough, don’t you think?’
    She refrained from saying anything about her fears that Declan was smitten by her young cousin. She might be wrong, so for the time being at least it was best to say nothing.
    For his own part, reference to Mary, her sister, made Stan wonder how long it would be before she moved to Canada with Michael. He nodded sadly as he tousled his grandson’s hair. Young Charlie was enjoying the company of the Gates children, watching as they cleared the porridge and the villagers’ bacon and egg rations from the table, before attacking the homemade jams and preserves, liberally spreading it on slices of toast already smothered with margarine.
    Ruby had drawn the line at giving the kids their butter ration, predicting rightly that they wouldn’t notice the difference once the toast was piled with jam.
    The smell of freshly made loaves of bread being piled on to the shelves persuaded the kids to eat more than they should have. Ruby worried they would be sick if they went on the way they were going. ‘Perhaps I should call a halt.’
    Stan told her not to. ‘They’ve been scrabbling about for food since their mother’s been ill. Let them eat what they want.’ The sight of so many cheery faces tucking into breakfast with gusto bucked him up no end, and even young Charlie joined in, cramming a crust of jammy bread into his mouth.
    A loud honking on an army transport horn sounded from outside. Ruby, who was serving in the shop for the day, saw it pull up. ‘It’s here,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
    Frances had been looking forward to her visit to the forest and shepherded the children out, though not before she had made sure everyone had been to the lavatory.
    â€˜Right! Everyone get your gas masks. Those of you with carrier bags can carry them too. I’ll take that,’ she said to one little girl who was struggling with a bulging carrier bag.
    The children followed her out, chattering and wiping away the jam they had smeared around their mouths.
    Ruby followed behind Frances while her father stood waving by the door.
    â€˜Now you’re sure you’ll be all right?’ he asked Frances. She looked happy