No Peace for Amelia Read Online Free PDF

heart had given a lurch when she first heard it, but then her heart gave that same lurch every time Frederick’s name was mentioned. After that, she had been confused and surprised by what Lucinda had said, but what ought she to feel next? Anxiety would be appropriate. After all, Frederick might be wounded, shell-shocked, even killed. But though she did feel some anxiety, it was only in a mild sort of way. She couldn’t really imagine Frederick dead or wounded. It was too unbelievable. No.
    What she felt, she now began to realise, was a sort of secret, shameful elation. Frederick was taking a stand. He wasn’t going to just go on living his life the way other people – his parents, his community – had ordained that he should. He was going to make something of himself. Yes, he was going to really do something, be somebody. Frederick Goodbody, officer of the king’s forces – for surely he would be an officer, a young man of such good background – off to the trenches to defend the rights of small countries to rule themselves and to resist invasion. Why, it was all so gallant and adventurous! Oh, if only girls could do such fine things as fight for justice and truth, the defence of the Empire and the protection ofthe innocent! But here she was, doomed to remain on a remote little island at the edge of Europe, writing history essays and hearing Edmund’s spellings, while Frederick could sail off to glory on the battlefield. Amelia had made up her mind how she felt after all – she had decided to be overcome by the magnificence of it all.
    â€˜Cheer up, Lucinda!’ she commanded, slapping her friend heartily on the back, as she thought glorious thoughts. ‘Young Frederick knows how to look after himself, and with a bit of luck he’ll be home in six months with a chestful of medals and a fund of tales of bravery in the face of the enemy.’
    â€˜Don’t!’ wailed Lucinda, determined not to be robbed of her great sorrow. She shrugged Amelia off and gave a becoming little sniff into her dainty, lace-edged handkerchief . Just then the bell rang for the next lesson, and the girls drifted back to the classroom.
    â€˜And the worst thing is,’ said Lucinda as they reached the classroom door, ‘he’s not even an officer or anything, just an infantry soldier in some wretched little regiment nobody’s ever even heard of. The Dublin Fusiliers – I ask you.’
    When Amelia returned to Casimir Road that afternoon she threw her satchel under the stairs and went into the kitchen. Mary Ann was black to the elbows, and had odd black smudges here and there on her face too, and there was a strong, acrid-sweet, metallic smell in the air.
    â€˜What ever are you at?’ asked Amelia, to whom themysteries of the servant’s life had still not fully been revealed.
    â€˜I’m making a cake,’ muttered Mary Ann.
    â€˜A cake?’
    â€˜Yeh, a lickerish cake,’ Mary Ann affirmed.
    Amelia looked curiously about the room. There was no sign of baking utensils or ingredients, and the smell of the black substance wasn’t remotely like liquorice.
    â€˜I see,’ said Amelia. ‘And tell me, if you’re making a cake, why is it necessary to use half-a-dozen filthy rags, a wire brush and three goose-wings?’
    â€˜All right,’ conceded Mary Ann, ‘I’m cleaning the stove.’
    â€˜Golly, isn’t it pretty!’ said Amelia, peering at it as if for the first time. ‘I never noticed this little panel of birds and flowers down the side before. Look! They’re smiling at us, since you polished them up.’ And so they were, gleaming and preening themselves coquettishly.
    â€˜Huh!’ said Mary Ann. ‘I could have done without that panel, thank you very much, smiles or no smiles. It’s all little cooks and grannies and fiddly bits.’
    â€˜Cooks and grannies?’
    â€˜Yes, it’s good