Octavia's War by Beryl Kingston Page A

supper,’ she said to Maggie. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Then, I really must phone my cousin and let her know we’ve arrived and find out how her grandchildren have got on. They could have gone today too. And then we must see about getting you a place to stay.’
    â€˜I’ve got one,’ Maggie told her with some pride. And when Octavia looked surprised, ‘I did it when we first arrived, while you were talking to the girls. It’s just round the corner. I toldthe lady I was your secretary and I had to be near the Ridgeway and she said that was the nearest.’
    â€˜Well, if that’s the case, we’ll get straight back for our supper,’ Octavia said. And she drove them to Horsell and her house in the road called Ridgeway, pleased that she already knew her way there. This time as she turned in at the drive and saw the open windows and Janet busy in the dining room setting the table, the place felt more like home. It was a warm peaceful summer evening, and somewhere in a nearby garden a chaffinch was singing. ‘What a day it’s been!’ she said.

Chapter Six
    â€˜It’s a gorgeous day,’ Lizzie Meriton said, leaning out of the bedroom window. ‘Come and have a look, Poppy. You can see for miles.’
    Poppy groaned and turned over in her unfamiliar bed. ‘It’s all very well for you,’ she complained, ‘you were asleep all night.’
    â€˜Comes of having a clear conscience,’ Lizzie told her. It wasn’t true. She’d been awake off and on all night too, worrying because she hadn’t kissed her mother goodbye, but you have to keep the side up. ‘There’s a common over there. I can see the trees. Tell you what, when we’ve had our breakfast, let’s go and explore.’
    â€˜I’m exhausted,’ Poppy said, struggling to sit up. ‘Oh God! You’re dressed.’
    â€˜Clean, clothed and in my right mind,’ Lizzie agreed. She was surprising herself by how much better she felt now that it was morning. Smithie was right. It was all a matter of accepting things.
    â€˜You’ve even brushed your hair,’ Poppy complained, admiring Lizzie’s long blonde mane. It really wasn’t fair for anyone to look that pretty first thing in the morning. She was so slim and she had such lovely long legs and such white teeth, and such beautiful grey eyes and long black eyelashesand everything. She hadn’t even got spots.
    â€˜It’s what I do,’ Lizzie said carelessly. ‘Fifty strokes both sides, every morning.’
    Poppy’s hair was thin and mouse-brown, and had to be put in curlers every night and combed and arranged in the morning so that it didn’t look too bad, which took a very long time. She lumped from the bed and went to look for her dressing gown. It was in her bag somewhere. She remembered packing it. ‘I wonder what’s for breakfast,’ she said.
    â€˜Bacon.’
    â€˜How do you know?’
    â€˜I can smell it cooking.’
    She’s such a brick, Poppy thought, tugging the dressing gown out of her bag – along with two pairs of knickers and the sleeve of her spare blouse. She takes everything in her stride, even this. I’m glad we’re together. And she took out the first curler and began to start her day.
    Â 
    Emmeline was shaking a Beecham’s powder into a glass of water, watching as the mixture fizzed and bubbled. ‘There you are, Uncle,’ she said, handing it to J-J, ‘drink that down while it’s fizzy. We can’t have you with a cold.’
    â€˜I’m not at death’s door, Emmeline,’ J-J protested, sitting up in bed with his white hair sleep-tousled and his glasses on the end of his nose. ‘It’s only a cough.’
    â€˜Um,’ Emmeline said, dubiously, ‘well, there’s no need to put up with it, whatever it is. What do you fancy for