The Girls They Left Behind Read Online Free PDF Page A

and gaping like a smashed tooth. Still shaking, she dragged herself out of the shelter and gripped the distorted iron to pull herself upright, staring in misery and despair.
    The house was a mess of torn brickwork and splintered
    wood. There was nothing at all left of the roof, and the upstairs rooms were totally demolished. Downstairs, all she could see was ruin — smashed furniture, ornaments and knick-knacks scattered and broken, a curtain still half hanging from a crooked rail, filthy with dust.
    The two girls scrambled out and stood beside her, still sobbing.
    ‘My dolly,’ Muriel whispered. ‘My dolly . .

CHAPTER TWO
    Frank Budd had just left the Dockyard when the siren
    sounded.
    Carrying his leather-bound lunchbox, he walked through Unicorn Gate and turned to go along Flathouse Road
    towards the Royal Hospital. From there, he would make his way through the maze of narrow side streets towards
    Kingston and Copnor.
    Sometimes he took the bus, but it was too hot this evening to be cooped up on a crowded bus, and it was ten hours since he’d tasted any air other than the steamy heat of the boiler shop. With no overtime tonight, for the first time in weeks, he could afford to walk. Jess wouldn’t be expecting him till seven and there would still be time to spend a few hours over on his allotment in the fresh air and evening sunshine. There was plenty to be done — hoeing and weeding, and perhaps some soft fruit to pick, if Jess hadn’t had time to get over there herself during the afternoon.
    The allotment was thriving this year. After the bitter winter and cold spring, he’d been afraid everything would be late, but instead they’d had this glorious summer and the vegetables and fruit had flourished. He’d never seen the beans so high at this time of year before, and the gooseberries and currants were fat and glowing. The row or two of strawberries had done well too, and they’d had them for tea once or twice as well as providing a good bowlful for Olive’s wedding last Saturday. Strawberries were, in Frank’s opinion, a luxury and he only grew them because Jess liked them so much. They did make a good jam, with a few
     
    gooseberries to help them set.
    The road vas full of men leaving the Dockyard, some on foot like Frank, others cycling. There were buses too, taking them all over the city and down to the Hard, where the ferryboats waited to take those who lived in Gosport on the five-minute trip across the harbour. It was a vast exodus, and other folk kept clear when the Dockyard was coming out.
    It was at that moment that the siren sounded.
    The wail filled the air. Frank stopped as its shriek hit him, and felt the jolt of shock, followed by a tingling shudder that ran over his whole body. He glanced quickly up and down the street. In that moment, everyone must have done exactly the same — stopped as if frozen. -Then there was sudden movement everywhere as people began to run and shout. An old lady who had been creeping slowly along with her hand on the low garden walls to steady herself, stood with confused, frightened eyes, her lips trembling as she clutched her shopping bag close against her.
    For a few seconds, Frank stood as uncertain as the rest. Then he remembered that there was a public shelter two
    streets away. He set off towards it, then turned back and approached the old woman.
    ‘They’re coming,’ she whispered. ‘They’re coming to get us.’
    ‘They’re not going to, though, are they?’ He spoke cheerfully, although already he could hear the snarl of the bombers approaching. Had the warning come too late?
    It had certainly come too late for a lot of people to find
    proper shelter. Especially people like this poor old dear, who was now sobbing helplessly and wetting herself into the
    bargain. He saw the puddle forming round her feet and tugged her arm gently.
    ‘Come on, missus, let’s get you home. You don’t want to be out on the street in this.’ The planes were very close