Jenny's War by Margaret Dickinson

interrupted her thoughts. ‘If you promise me not to run into the road without looking both ways, I’ll let go.’
    Jenny nodded. Then she looked up into the kind face of the woman. Against her will, she was intrigued by these two people. Why on earth did toffs like them want to take in a dirty little urchin like her?
    ‘His name’s Bert,’ Jenny muttered in answer to the woman’s question. ‘I’d better get him. And me gas mask.’
    ‘And what about the train fare? Have you any money?’
    ‘Don’t need no money. We come on the train an’ didn’t ’ave ter pay.’
    ‘I think that was special, because the train was bringing you all to the country. But if you choose to go back without the others, you’ll have to pay.’
    Jenny felt tears prickle her eyelids and, against her will, her lower lip trembled. She dropped her head so that they wouldn’t see how lost and afraid she felt. There was no one she could turn to. Even Miss Chisholm had gone back to London the previous day. How she wished she’d known; she’d have gone with her. Though she doubted the teacher would have allowed it.
    The woman was squatting down in front of her now and speaking in a soft voice. ‘Tell you what, how about you come home with us for a day or two? If you really don’t like it, then we’ll pay for your train fare back home.’
    Jenny looked up, meeting the dark eyes. ‘Promise?’
    ‘Well, I don’t think your mum’ll want you to go back to the city when she’s sent you here to be safe, but if you’re really so unhappy, then—’
    ‘Don’t think mi mum’d be bothered. She’s got a fancy man an’ I was in the way.’
    ‘Oh – oh, I see.’ After a moment, the woman stood up and held out her hand. ‘You come with us, Jenny. Give us a try, eh? Maybe you’d like to stay with us for a little while and then we’ll see, eh?’
    Jenny thought for a moment. She realized now escape was impossible, at least for the moment. She wasn’t going to be able to get home. She couldn’t run away and – worst of all – she wasn’t going to escape having the bath and hair washing they all seemed to want her to have. But at least if she went with this couple, she wouldn’t be sent back to those dreadful old women or anyone like them. ‘All right, missis. I’ll give it a go, but if I don’t like it . . .’
    ‘Then I promise we’ll take you back to London ourselves and talk to your mum. All right?’
    Jenny nodded and put her grubby paw into the woman’s outstretched hand.

Eight
    They walked through the streets of the little market town, Jenny still holding the woman’s hand and clutching Bert to her chest. The man carried Jenny’s meagre possessions.
    ‘My name’s Charlotte and this is Miles.’
    Jenny twisted her head to look up at the woman walking beside her. ‘Don’t I call you Mr and Mrs something?’
    The woman chuckled. ‘No, Charlotte and Miles will be fine.’
    ‘Not even Aunty or Uncle? I’ve had lots of uncles,’ Jenny confided. ‘That’s what I ’ave to call me muvver’s fancy men.’
    Jenny felt Charlotte’s hand tremble slightly in hers and she looked up sharply to see if the woman was laughing at her. But Charlotte was biting her lip and there were tears in her eyes. ‘No,’ her voice was husky, ‘just – just Charlotte and Miles.’
    They were walking away from the town centre now along a road where the houses were not built so close together. Jenny glanced around her nervously. She was used to narrow streets and row after row of terraced houses, not the wide open spaces of the countryside. The sky looked huge and it frightened her. They reached some gates leading up a driveway to a large house with smooth lawns in front of it. Beyond the house the flat land stretched towards a line of low hills. And she could hear a strange rushing sound that ebbed and flowed, but she had no idea what it was. Jenny stared at the huge house in front of her. For a moment, she forgot her fears. ‘Cor! Is