Under the Hawthorn Tree by Marita Conlon-Mckenna

see Peggy at all. It seemed like the little one was in there for an age. Michael was anxiously pacing up and down outside. Suddenly Peggy’s dark hair peeped through the ivy and she passed a bulging bag out to Michael. She dipped back in and then climbed out clutching a fistful of multicoloured stems of gladioli and heavy waxen peonies. Eily had to stop herself from laughing.
    They walked about a quarter of a mile down the road, then climbed up over a stile and sat down to eat, hidden from the road behind a pile of brambles.
    ‘Oh, Eily, you should have seen the place,’ yearned Peggy. ‘There were all kinds of berries and fruits there.’ The bag was jammed with an assortment of gooseberries, raspberries, huge strawberries and some windfall apples that were still very hard and green. ‘There was a little white seat to sit on, and a thing in the centre of a littlepond with water spurting out of its mouth, and little fishes swimming all around. I would have tried to catch one, but they were very small and all goldy colour. There was another huge wall inside and there was a white gate in the middle of it, but it was locked and when I looked through the gate there was a whole field, full of cabbages and caulies and carrots and onions and big things of corn and huge marrows. Oh, if only the gate had been open.’
    ‘You did really well, pet,’ reassured Eily, as they all dipped in their hands and filled them with the berries. What sweetness and juiciness filled their mouths! Peggy insisted on carrying the bunch of flowers, saying they were for the aunts.
    The next morning they all had cramps in their stomachs and chewed Mary Kate’s special remedy, hoping it would give them some relief.
    A priest passed by with his little horse and trap. They asked him i f i t was much further to Castletaggart. He held his handkerchief to his face when he turned to answer them. They would be there by six o’clock, he assured them, and then he jiggled the horse’s reins and went off in the same direction, not even offering them a lift.
    Peggy started to cry. ‘We’ll never get there – it’s too far – my legs ache.’
    Eily bent down and massaged her leg muscles.‘Maybe they’re growing pains, pet, now you’re getting to be such a big girl,’ she encouraged. Michael offered to carry the drooping bundle of flowers for her.
    Every step seemed like ten steps as they travelled the rest of their journey, willing themselves to reach the town. It was nearly nightfall when they got there. Castletaggart at last! Peggy’s mouth hung open with wonder and Michael tried to walk tall and straight and proud.
    ‘Look at the buildings! Look at the shops!’ shouted Peggy, pointing in every direction.
    Although the three of them were bone-weary and exhausted and it was almost dark, a sense of excitement rushed through their veins.
    ‘Where’s the shop? Where are the aunties?’ Peggy kept pestering Eily.
    To Eily it was like a dream come true. A wide grin spread across her face. She had done it, she had got them all safely here. They were weak, but they were in Castletaggart. They walked through the town.
    One or two people brushed past them, unwilling to meet their gaze, afraid of being asked for help. The place was quiet and the streets were nearly empty. A few men sat inside the doors of two pubs, supping porter.
    A high white building stood on the left-hand side of the street. Large steps led up to it and men and women chatted outside its doors. One huge room was lit by a chandelier and tables were set, ready for dinner.
    A soldier stopped when he saw the children and came over. ‘Come on, you brats, move away from the hotel. We want no beggars in this town. What’s your business here?’
    Eily felt herself go crimson, suddenly aware of how badly they looked. ‘We’re looking for our aunts – they have a shop here,’ she told him.
    The soldier stared at them in disbelief. ‘What kind of a shop would this be?’ he