“She wished she could make her anger disappear as easily. She was sixteen, after all, and no longer a child. The soldiers whistled at her, even in her school uniform, when she walked to and from the Academy. And wasn’t Harry Stones, who was five years older than she and a lieutenant in the RAF, a tail gunner, mad about her? Given a little time, he might have asked her dad for her hand, though she was too young yet, a schoolgirl. Whenever he came to visit, he brought her something. Once even a bo...x of chocolates, though they were very dear. But to be sent away from London for safekeeping like a baby, to her gran’s house, to this desolate, isolated Scottish sea town because of a few German raids—it was demeaning. She could have helped, could have at least cooked and taken care of the flat for her father now that the help had all gone off to war jobs. She had wanted to be there in case a bomb did fall, so she could race out and help evacuate all the poor unfortunates, maybe even win a medal, and wouldn’t Jenny Eivensley look green then.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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