Josie Under Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

all of them risking their lives to protect Britain from invasion.
    Edith leaned towards Josie. “All except Ted,” she whispered.
    “Shut up!”
    So much for Edith saying she doesn’t blame me , Josie thought; she still can’t resist a dig.
    “We shall sing hymn number 261,” said Miss Gregory. “‘Bless’d are the pure in heart’.”
    As they began singing Edith whispered again, “I didn’t mean it.”
    No; but you said it, Josie thought.
    She sang:
    “The LORD, Who left the heavens
    Our life and peace to bring,
    To dwell in lowliness with men,
    Their Pattern and their King…”
    Ted had said to her, the day he went to his tribunal, “It’d be easier if I was religious – a member of some church, or a Quaker. They think no one else has a conscience. I’ll need to convince them that I truly believe we should not go to war; that I’m just not prepared to be part of it.”
    “…Still to the lowly soul
    He doth Himself impart…”
    When Assembly was over and they went into the classroom, Josie took her seat next to Alice Hampton. She didn’t want to sit next to Alice now; she felt guilty and embarrassed. But if Alice resented her, she didn’t show it; neither was she any more friendly. Josie wanted to say, “It wasn’t me – wasn’t my idea,” but Alice gave her no way to make amends.
    During the morning it began to rain, and by lunchtime it was far too wet and cold to go to the bomb site. Edith and Josie hurried home. Edith’s mother had left a shopping list for them, so they went to Oakley Street and bought groceries: dried milk, a tiny amount of butter and cheese, bacon, sugar, bread; and their own sweets ration: Josie chose aniseed balls and Edith had sherbet lemons. “Then we can share,” she said.
    Josie enjoyed shopping in a place where she was not known. At home in Greenwich the shopkeepers were often cool towards her, and she would sometimes be aware of curious or hostile glances from other customers. Once, she had walked into Hollamby’s when the shop was crowded and full of the buzz of conversation, only for the place to fall silent at her appearance.
    Aunty Grace came home and put the shopping away, shaking her head over the small size of the butter ration. She began cooking while the girls did their homework.
    That night there was no bombing.
    “Too cloudy,” said Aunty Grace. She was relieved, and sat knitting and listening to the wireless while Josie wrote a letter to her mother and Edith teased the cat.
    The next afternoon – Wednesday – Edith said, “I’ve got Red Cross Cadets group at two, at the church hall. We’re learning first aid. Do you want to come?”
    “If they’ll let me.”
    They did; and the two of them spent the afternoon with a group of cadets and two women from the Red Cross, bandaging, splinting and resuscitating each other.
    It was Thursday before they went to the bomb site again. This time the boys had the promised fire alight, fed with wood from the smashed-up shed. The girls stood around watching.
    The usual boys were there: Vic; his younger brother Stan; and Ray, a big, excitable boy of about thirteen.
    “You’ll get the warden after you, lighting that fire,” said Clare.
    Stan laughed. “We’re not scared of him!”
    Edith turned to Vic. He was the one whose attention the girls all vied for. “Did you get any shrapnel on Tuesday? We found a bit of an incendiary.”
    “ I found it,” said Josie. She brought it out of her pocket to show him.
    But Vic was unimpressed. “I’ve got tons of those. Got a bit off a Dornier—”
    “I’ve got a dial—”
    “We found an unexploded bomb—”
    A clamour of voices, male and female, had broken out. Ray waved his arms about, telling a story about a grenade he’d picked up and taken home. “Threw it in the backyard – whoosh! – bits of fence everywhere! Dad went mad!”
    Vic drew Edith and Josie aside. “Have a look at this.”
    Out of his pocket he brought a watch. Josie sensed instantly