Soldier Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

had no intention of telling Iris either, but she’d had to tell someone because she was excited, and it made it seem real. ‘Don’t say anything to her, will yer?’
    Cynthia shook her head. ‘Course not, love.’
    They all knew what Iris would think about losing her lifelong skivvy.
    ‘What about your dad?’ Em asked.
    The words he’s not my dad rose to Molly’s lips but she bit them back. Blood poured into her cheeks. And it was then she wondered if they all knew. If everyone had always known, if it was obvious to anyone who had eyes that Joe Fox could not have sired two children. Shame pumped through her veins. But she didn’t see it in their eyes, saw only concern for a crippled man with a monstrous wife.
    ‘Molly can’t stay home for ever,’ Cynthia said. ‘She’s go to make her own life. Good for you, Molly love.’
    Molly glanced gratefully at her.
    ‘It’s Jenny and Stanley who’re going to feel it.’ Cynthia nodded towards the opposite side of the street. ‘Have you told them?’
    ‘Not yet.’ The buoyancy and sense of triumph which had filled Molly all day started to seep away. Iris and Joe were one thing, but Jenny and Stanley Button, who had never shown her anything but kindness, were quite another.
    ‘Ooh Jenny’ll miss yer,’ Cynthia said. She saw Molly’s troubled expression. ‘But I tell yer summat else, Molly – she’ll be ever so proud of you. I bet you anything she will.’

 
Five
     
    Soon Molly was out of the Browns’ and on the other side of the street, warmed by an unexpected embrace from Em. She had got up to see Molly out to the front door, prising herself away from Norm for a few moments.
    ‘Oh Molly – I hope you’ll be all right!’ She was quite emotional suddenly.
    ‘I’ll be all right!’ Molly laughed. ‘Anyway – they might not ’ave me! Even if they do, I don’t s’pose I’ll be away from here ’til after Christmas now at this rate.’
    ‘Well, I think you’re brave,’ Em said. ‘Only, you’ll have to behave, Molly – be careful with yourself.’
    Molly blushed again. Lowering her voice, she said, ‘Sorry about the other night. I don’t remember much about it to be honest with yer, but sorry if I got you into trouble or anything.’
    ‘No – I just took you home. You’d fallen over and were singing your flaming head off!’
    Molly had only the dimmest of memories about this, even though she had the bruises to prove it had indeed happened. She shrugged, embarrassed. ‘Dunno what comes over me sometimes.’
    Em smiled then, properly, the sweet Em who wasn’t a prim matron. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘You’re the end.’ She was smiling as Molly left and crossed the street.
    It took Jenny Button a few moments to answer Molly’s knock, though there came volleys of crazed barking from Wally, their wire-haired Jack Russell. When Molly first got to know the Buttons they had a gentle old dog called Bullseye, but he had long since passed away and a few years back they’d acquired Wally.
    Jenny Button had always been very large and took time to move about. Food was her comfort in the face of a sad life, with a crippled husband and no children of her own. Now entering her fifties, she still had dark hair, scraped up into a little bun at the back, but she was very broad in the beam, and struggled to catch her breath. As it was evening, she was not wearing her huge white apron for once. She appeared in a navy blouse and skirt, the waistline of which disappeared deeply into the folds of her body, making her look like a tightly strung parcel. When she saw Molly, the fleshy little mounds of her face lifted in delight, bunching round her deep-set eyes. Every year she looked more like one of her own currant buns.
    ‘’Ello, bab! My Stanley said ’e thought it’d be you. “That’ll be our Molly,”’e said when you knocked on the door. Come in – ’ave yer got a minute? Wally stop that – get in ’ere!’
    ‘Yes, course. I’ve come to