usually do. But here’s something about Becky again.”
“May 14. I was hiding in the loft above the stable spying on Danny the groom, when Becky came in. She and Danny whispered together and I jumped down out of the loft and scared them out of their wits! Becky was so angry she says she’ll never come up and play with me again. I hope she doesn’t mean it.”
Marjorie turned to another page in the diary, which was written in June. “Becky and Danny are going to be married so she won’t work here any more. I wish I were old enough to get married and move away from here. Mrs. Johnstone was angry today because I tore my white dress — the one with the lace on the bodice and pink flowers — and she locked me in the playroom with no supper.”
Anna had climbed onto the window seat and was looking out. Suddenly she stiffened, and when she turned around her face was white and her eyes were huge.
“There’s soldiers down there! Soldiers with guns! They’re coming to look for us!”
Marjorie jumped up beside her and saw that Anna was right. There were soldiers — everywhere. Several army lorries were parked in the driveway, and dozens of soldiers were jumping out the backs of them and throwing out rifles and duffle bags. Some of them were already approaching the front door.
Anna and Marjorie, confused by the sudden appearance of the soldiers, imagined that somehow the dreaded German army had come. All the awful things they had heard about the Germans, whispered from child to child in the school playground and then pushed to the backs of their minds, suddenly confronted them. Dropping the diary, Marjorie wrenched open the door and hurtled down the spiral staircase with Anna behind her.
Soldiers were already swarming through the front door into the main hall. Great big men in khaki uniforms with rifles and huge boots — the giants the house had been waiting for.
“The back stairs,” Marjorie said breathlessly. “We can get down the back stairs to the kitchen without them seeing us.”
Anna ran after her. There was so much noise in the front hall that no one heard the two girls clattering down the uncarpeted stairs. They darted through the door into the darkness of the coal cellar like frightened rabbits diving into a burrow. Marjorie peered out the open hatch. Seeing no one around the back of the house, she heaved herself up, out through the hatch, and then turned and dragged Anna out.
They ran across the cobbled courtyard and made for the shrubbery. There, under the cover of the thick bushes, they crept toward the gate. Underfoot grew wild garlic, its smell so pungent that Marjorie was afraid it would attract the attention of the soldiers. For a long time afterwards, the smell of wild garlic always brought back something of the panic she had experienced that day.
They managed to duck out the open gate unnoticed, and were walking along the road when Anna asked in small voice, “Were they looking for us? Would they have shot us?”
Marjorie, calmer now that they had reached the safety of the road, said in a rather superior voice, “Of course not! They were British soldiers, you know. They might have been angry with us for being there, but they wouldn’t have shot us.”
“What are they doing in the house?”
“Maybe the Miss Campbells will know,” Marjorie suggested. “We’ll ask them, but don’t you say anything. Let me do the talking.”
Chapter 11
Jane’s Story
After the table had been cleared, the Miss Campbells and Marjorie and Anna sat around the fire, each with their knitting. Marjorie was making a scarf and she wished for the hundredth time that soldiers didn’t have to wear that awful khaki color. She was sure her knitting would go faster in some other color. Why not patriotic scarves of red, white, and blue?
Anna was still knitting squares for the blanket, except that they were never quite square, because if she stopped in the middle of a row she couldn’t figure out which direction
“May 14. I was hiding in the loft above the stable spying on Danny the groom, when Becky came in. She and Danny whispered together and I jumped down out of the loft and scared them out of their wits! Becky was so angry she says she’ll never come up and play with me again. I hope she doesn’t mean it.”
Marjorie turned to another page in the diary, which was written in June. “Becky and Danny are going to be married so she won’t work here any more. I wish I were old enough to get married and move away from here. Mrs. Johnstone was angry today because I tore my white dress — the one with the lace on the bodice and pink flowers — and she locked me in the playroom with no supper.”
Anna had climbed onto the window seat and was looking out. Suddenly she stiffened, and when she turned around her face was white and her eyes were huge.
“There’s soldiers down there! Soldiers with guns! They’re coming to look for us!”
Marjorie jumped up beside her and saw that Anna was right. There were soldiers — everywhere. Several army lorries were parked in the driveway, and dozens of soldiers were jumping out the backs of them and throwing out rifles and duffle bags. Some of them were already approaching the front door.
Anna and Marjorie, confused by the sudden appearance of the soldiers, imagined that somehow the dreaded German army had come. All the awful things they had heard about the Germans, whispered from child to child in the school playground and then pushed to the backs of their minds, suddenly confronted them. Dropping the diary, Marjorie wrenched open the door and hurtled down the spiral staircase with Anna behind her.
Soldiers were already swarming through the front door into the main hall. Great big men in khaki uniforms with rifles and huge boots — the giants the house had been waiting for.
“The back stairs,” Marjorie said breathlessly. “We can get down the back stairs to the kitchen without them seeing us.”
Anna ran after her. There was so much noise in the front hall that no one heard the two girls clattering down the uncarpeted stairs. They darted through the door into the darkness of the coal cellar like frightened rabbits diving into a burrow. Marjorie peered out the open hatch. Seeing no one around the back of the house, she heaved herself up, out through the hatch, and then turned and dragged Anna out.
They ran across the cobbled courtyard and made for the shrubbery. There, under the cover of the thick bushes, they crept toward the gate. Underfoot grew wild garlic, its smell so pungent that Marjorie was afraid it would attract the attention of the soldiers. For a long time afterwards, the smell of wild garlic always brought back something of the panic she had experienced that day.
They managed to duck out the open gate unnoticed, and were walking along the road when Anna asked in small voice, “Were they looking for us? Would they have shot us?”
Marjorie, calmer now that they had reached the safety of the road, said in a rather superior voice, “Of course not! They were British soldiers, you know. They might have been angry with us for being there, but they wouldn’t have shot us.”
“What are they doing in the house?”
“Maybe the Miss Campbells will know,” Marjorie suggested. “We’ll ask them, but don’t you say anything. Let me do the talking.”
Chapter 11
Jane’s Story
After the table had been cleared, the Miss Campbells and Marjorie and Anna sat around the fire, each with their knitting. Marjorie was making a scarf and she wished for the hundredth time that soldiers didn’t have to wear that awful khaki color. She was sure her knitting would go faster in some other color. Why not patriotic scarves of red, white, and blue?
Anna was still knitting squares for the blanket, except that they were never quite square, because if she stopped in the middle of a row she couldn’t figure out which direction
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