No Shelter from Darkness by Mark D. Evans Page B

him an admonishing frown, then turned it into a smile when she looked over at Mary. “Seeing a boy now, are you, Mary?”
    â€œOh no. I wouldn't say that. We've held hands a couple of times, though. Anyway, I think he might be a bit young for me.”
    Beth picked up on the sarcasm that her mother missed.
    â€œAhem, isn't he your age?”
    â€œExactly, Mrs. Wade. Too young.” Mary grinned. Beth's mother caught on, while Oliver sat and sighed unhappily at the topic of conversation. Eagerly shoving another bit of pie in her mouth, Beth bit down and yelped. A pea flew back onto her plate as she brought up a hand.
    â€œShot!” said Oliver.
    Lynne tutted.
    â€œBit your tongue?” asked Mary.
    Beth winced and left her mouth open while she tongued the food to the other side. She chewed as little as needed, and swallowed. She brought her hand away tentatively. “That really hurt.”
    â€œWhat have you done?” asked her mother.
    She shook her head slightly. “I dunno. I think it's my teeth.” Beth pushed a finger under her lip and felt the tender gum line.
    â€œElizabeth, not at the table.”
    Her finger was still in her mouth when Beth said, “My tooth's wobbling.”
    â€œWhat?” asked her mother.
    â€œThat one there.” She snarled with one side of her mouth and pointed to her left canine on the upper row. She was well aware all four of them looked a bit out of place, being smaller in comparison to the other teeth. “They're finally coming out,” she confirmed.
    â€œIt's about time,” said Lynne. “Only a couple of years late, then.”
    With her finger pressed lightly on the tip, Beth moved it back and forth in the tender gum.
    â€œBeth, come on now and finish your food.”
    â€œSorry, Mum.”
    Carefully, Beth finished what was left on her plate, using only one side of her mouth. It was only one of the four remaining baby teeth that had loosened, but she was sure the others would soon follow.
    Swallowing the last forkful of food, she sat back in her chair with a small sigh. Due to rationing, meals were never large unless Mr. Morris, the butcher, had been round with one of his generous gifts. Stomachs had grown used to the smaller quantity, and Beth's had stopped its gurgling from earlier. But while her stomach may have been fine, something else was still amiss. She puckered her lips and furrowed her brow, putting her hand back on her stomach. She didn't need long to realize it was that feeling of not being satisfied, of the food not hitting some other spot. It was dull, but it was there. Her heart sank.
    The craving was back.

TEN
    LYNNE SAT IN HER FAVORITE of the two larger armchairs in the sitting room, the one which showed its threads the least, and bit down on a length of cotton thread she was sewing with to sever it. With the thick patch sewn into place, Oliver's second pair of school shorts had life left in them yet. She folded them and put them to one side, and from the less orderly pile of clothes she pulled the next patient for needle and thread. It was a Saturday away from the hospital, and with the children at school for the morning it was a chance to catch up with motherly duties. The June air outside was warm. Both the front and back door were ajar, and a nice breeze wafted through the house while the wireless played the latest hits to poke fun at Adolf.
    Lynne pushed the needle through the hem of a dress, catching the side of her callused finger but hardly feeling it. With an almost inaudible squeak, the front door swung slightly. Thinking it must've been nothing more than the wind, she froze at seeing movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped around, and her hand dropped the dress and went to her chest. She gasped, then sighed in relief. “Beth! You almost gave me a heart attack.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œWhere's your brother and Mary?”
    Beth shrugged as she moped past her mother and