The Lost Days of Summer by Katie Flynn

yourself!’ she bawled above the wind. ‘You’ve a great many things to learn, and you’ve just had your first lesson: chucking pee into the wind is definitely one way of gettin’ your own back!’
    Nell was so angry that she threw caution to the winds. As they slogged side by side across the yard, heading for the back door, she gave vent to her feelings. ‘Really, Auntie! I notice you can speak bloody good English when you want to say something nasty; it’s just polite conversation that you can’t manage!’
    They had reached the back door and as she flounced in ahead of the older woman she received a ringing slap round the ear. Too startled for a moment to do anything but regain her balance, for the slap had nearly knocked her to the ground, Nell gave a stifled sob. ‘What was that for? Speaking the truth?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Don’t you ever hit me again or – or . . .’
    ‘If you’re rude to me again you’ll get another clack, harder too!’ her aunt said between gritted teeth. ‘You’re just like your ma was when we were girls together. Hot to handle and ungrateful, always wanting what wasn’t hers . . .’ She had thrust her niece into the kitchen and now she followed, slamming the door behind her. ‘As I’ve already said, you’ve a lot to learn, Helen Whitaker!’
    Nell spun round, feeling the hot blood of fury suffuse her cheeks. ‘How dare you hit me! You called my mam names, but I know better than to hit you. Come to that, Mam’s never hit me in my life, or not without reason at any rate. Well, that’s it; I’m going home on the first train and you can empty your own damned slops!’
    ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, since I don’t mean to lend you a penny and you told me last night you’d no money for the fare,’ Aunt Kath said, her voice thin with spite. ‘You’re here to work and to do as I say, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!’
    Nell gave an angry sob. It was so unfair! Just because she was only fifteen and her aunt many years older, she would have to put up with whatever dreadful treatment the older woman handed out until she could beg, borrow or steal enough money for the fare back to Liverpool. And when she got there, what could she do? Auntie Carrie had not suggested that she stay with her whilst her mother went off to join the WAAF. What would she say if she turned up on her doorstep, penniless and weeping, having flouted her mother’s plans for her and run away from her sister Kath? The aunts might not have much time for their eldest sister, but in her heart Nell knew that they would fight shy of taking her in. They would say that the only person who could make arrangements for her was her mother, and she had sent her to Kath, who lived in the country on a lovely farm, where Trixie’s precious one and only child could be safe for as long as the war lasted. And there she must stay, Carrie would say, and Mam’s cousins in Bootle would agree, Nell concluded sadly, heaving a deep sigh.
    Better get it over with then; eat humble pie and promise to be good and await my chance to . . . to what? Run? Go to the nearest town and find work? But the humble pie bit must come first. Or I could try the only other option . . . you never know, Auntie Kath’s harsh exterior might, just might, hide a soft centre, like the chocolates Mam likes so much.
    Without saying another word, she ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. In her room she took off her dirty things, rinsed hands and face in the water left over from her earlier ablutions, and put on clean clothing. Then, without giving herself time to reflect, she went back to the kitchen and put her wet clothing on the draining board before addressing her aunt in a small voice.
    ‘Auntie? I’m sorry I was rude, but you laughed . . . and I know you’re right, really. I can’t possibly go back to Liverpool now Mam’s not there any longer, nor Auntie Lou. The other relatives might take me in, but I just know they’d