Free Victory by Susan Cooper Page A

though it looks rather like Donald.
    Molly feels drained, empty, as if something had washedall feeling out of her. It is the way she felt yesterday after all that crying; it has survived her night’s sleep. But jumping out of her memory comes the discovery of the little square of cloth inside her Nelson book, and the emptiness is suddenly filled. Awesome! says a voice inside her head, and she wants to jump up and tell the whole world. At the very least she wants to e-mail her friends Sally, Jen and Naomi, and send off a letter to her grandparents, who prefer paper to computers.
    But at the same time she feels strongly again that she should tell nobody at all; that it’s a pity even Russell knows.
    Why? she wonders.
    Not yet! says the voice in her head, offering no reason.
    She gets out of bed and goes to her desk. There is the book, with its damaged blue cover and the little brown envelope inside, hidden away in the dark for so long but now revealed. Today she will start reading about Nelson. Now that she has a piece of his ship’s flag, she has a powerful urge to find out what he was like.
    Molly goes downstairs in her pajamas to get some orange juice, and she is only halfway down the stairs when she realizes that the one person she must tell about her discovery is Mr. Waterford.
    Kate is in the kitchen, feeding Donald small spoonfuls of cereal. He gurgles at Molly, and bangs the table of his high chair. Kate puts out an arm and gives Molly a hug. “I forgot to remind you, you’re babysitting,” she says. “I’m taking Russ to his driving test.”
    â€œNo problem,” says Molly, and she thinks: Russell! He’ll have his license, he can drive me to see Mr. Waterford!
    Kate still has her arm around her. “You’re such a good girl,” she says, and squeezes her again. Then she lets her go, and Molly heads for the refrigerator.
    â€œWe’ll leave about eight-fifteen,” Kate says. “Back by eleven. I’ve changed Donald. Put him down for a nap when he starts to fuss.”
    â€œOkay,” says Molly. She pours herself some juice, kisses Donald on the nose and sits at the kitchen table. Kate says hesitantly, “Are you all right, love?”
    Molly looks up. There is an odd expression on her mother’s face, as if she were far more concerned about Molly than a small babysitting job deserves. And so she is. Kate was deeply troubled by yesterday’s outburst of grief; it was far more serious than anything she has ever seen happen to a child. She has been awake half the night worrying about it.
    Molly says, “I’m fine.”
    â€œI had a long talk with Carl this morning,” Kate says. She sits down.
    â€œIn Italy?”
    â€œIt’s lunchtime there. We decided . . . Darling, how would you like it if you and Donald and I made a quick trip to see Granny and Grandad before you start school?”
    Molly stares at her. A miracle has exploded into her life like a meteor. She can hardly believe it. “To London? Really?”
    â€œReally,” Kate says, and finds her daughter’s arms wound around her neck, so tightly that she splutters. Donald wails. Molly gives him another kiss.
    â€œWe’re going home!” she tells him. “We’re going home!”
    â€œJust for a week,” Kate says cautiously.
    Molly says, “That’s wonderful! ”
    Donald is fast asleep in his crib, sucking his thumb, and Molly is downstairs again, listening as the sucking sounds grow gradually fainter over the baby monitor. When the outside door bursts open, she can tell instantly from the look on Russell’s face that he has failed his driving test. He heads for the refrigerator, scowling, and pulls out the carton of orange juice.
    â€œPoor Russ,” Kate says, coming in after him. “He drove very well but he got a very picky examiner.”
    â€œHe’s a jerk!” Russell says, pouring juice so crossly that it