Spying on Miss Muller Read Online Free PDF

Hitler’s done in the whole war.”
    Another flashlight swung in our direction, and for a miraculous second I saw Ian McManus right in front of me. I was looking into his eyes. He was looking into mine. I was closer to his beauty mark than I’d ever been before. My heart turned over and my stomach, too. If my stomach acted up on me now, I’d never forgive it.
    And then Ian’s face came forward, or mine did. Our gas mask cases that hung from our shoulders banged together with a metallic thump. Our noses bumped, but not enough to hurt, and Ian kissed me.
    That kiss was right on target, but so fast and so light we could have been two butterflies meeting in midair. It was wonderful, but skimpy for a first kiss.
    I didn’t step away. Maybe there’d be a repeat that would be even more romantic. Ian might take my face in his hands and say, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the first time I saw you at the Pride of Erin dance when we were both in lower second.”
    He said nothing like that.
    â€œOh, cheese. Wouldn’t you know it,” he muttered, because right then the lights sparked and came on again.
    Our eyes were still locked in love.
    I smoothed my hair. I was so glad I didn’t have cold cream on my face—or worse, the potter’s-clay mask for pimples that Phyllis Hollister wore every night and offered to share. She’d wiped hers off on the way down here, but I noticed that some clay was still stuck under her chin and in her ears. I’d have died if Ian and I had been this close and I’d had potter’s clay in my ears.
    I smiled at him, but he looked embarrassed and stepped behind Curly Pritchard.
    Old Rose was booming in her most Shakespearean voice, “Girls, are my eyes deceiving me? Is this conceivably possible?” She was back on the Red Cross box, and the hairs on her fur coat stood straight out like a mad dog’s. “Never did I expect to see my girls—my Alveara girls—behaving in such a shocking manner.
    Cowed, we stepped back and perched on the edges of bunks, while the boys, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, looked nervous.
    â€œFirst- and second-form teachers, Miss Hardcastle, Miss Gaynor, Miss Müller, the air raid is over. Bring my girls back to the dormitories.” Old Rose paused. “Now.”
    We streamed awkwardly toward the stairs. Half of us had forgotten or lost our suitcases.
    â€œNever mind, never mind,” Old Rose called when Nancy Eden started back for her case. “The staff will gather up your belongings later.”
    Pearl Carson, for some reason, seemed to have also lost her coat.
    Lizzie Mag and I had been separated. She was way up the line ahead of me, but I couldn’t wait to give her my news. Maureen was in front of me. I tapped her shoulder. “I was kissed,” I whispered. “Pass it on to Lizzie Mag.”
    Maureen gave me an over-the-shoulder arched-eyebrow look. “That’s no news,” she said. “Lots of us were kissed.”
    I felt like telling her my kiss was from Ian McManus and the other kisses were ordinary. But I didn’t. And then I couldn’t stand not to tell and I said, “Ian McManus kissed me.”
    â€œYou’re joking,” Maureen said. “Lucky.”
    Miss Müller stood at the bottom of the steps with Nursie. I didn’t want to look at her. Inside my head I asked, Where were you? Where were you really?
    I had one foot on the bottom stair when Nursie caught my arm. “Jessie Drumm, are you all right?” She felt my forehead and frowned.
    Miss Müller smiled at me and said, “It was a frightening experience, Nursie. None of us is all right.”
    I gave her my coldest glance. Don’t even talk to me, I thought. Don’t be my friend.
    Nursie was peering closely into my face. “You’re very flushed, Jessie. I want to see you in dispensary in the morning. Is your stomach bothering