middle of a holly tree. You should have seen her face! One minute she was there, then, "whoosh", she'd completely disappeared!'
Annie said nothing. She thought of Sylvia innocently watching the lovely Christmas scene, little realising she was about to be attacked.
The girls were at the jewellery counter discussing what presents to buy each other. 'What would you like, Annie?' Sally Barker called.
'I wouldn't be seen dead with anything off youse lot,' Annie said coldly.
They stared at her in surprise. One or two had the grace to look ashamed, as if they knew the reason for
the normally easy-going Annie Harrison's strange behaviour.
'Merry Christmas,' she said sarcastically. Turning on her heel, she marched out of Woolworth's to cries of, 'But Annie . . .'
The nuns were still in the churchyard, but there was no sign of Sylvia Delgado. Minutes later, Annie stood by the Odeon opposite the hotel where Sylvia lived. The traffic was heavy, and every now and then her view was blocked when a doubledecker bus or a lorry crawled by. The hotel was called the Grand, an appropriate name, she thought, because it was very grand indeed. Three storeys high, it was painted white and had little black wrought-iron balconies outside the windows of the first and second floors, and a red-and-black striped awning across the entire front at ground level. The doors were closed, and she wondered if it was more a posh sort of pub, rather than a hotel where people stayed.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there, hopping from one foot to the other, and swinging her arms to try and keep warm. Time was getting on, and if she didn't take her courage in both hands soon, she would be late with Dad's tea. She didn't want him coming home on such a bitter night to find there was no hot meal waiting.
Eventually, she took a deep breath and dodged through the traffic across the road. She peeped through the downstairs window of the hotel. Apart from a string of coloured lights across the bar, the big room was in darkness. She went around the side and found a small door, where she rang the bell and waited, her stomach knotted with nervousness.
After a while, the door was opened by a slim woman whom Annie recognised immediately as Sylvia's mother. Not quite so beautiful, eyes a slightly lighter blue, and several inches shorter than her daughter, but
lovely all the same. Her blonde hair was cut urchin style, in feathery wisps around her face. She wore black slacks and a pink satin shirt blouse, and smiled kindly at the visitor.
'Is Sylvia in?' Annie gulped.
'I heard her come home a minute ago. Are you a friend from school?' The woman looked delighted. 'Come in, dear. Quickly, out of the cold.'
'Thank you.' Annie stepped into the neat lobby and the change from numbing cold to instant heat was almost suffocating. She noticed a metal radiator fixed to the wall, which explained why Sylvia's mother could walk round in a satin blouse in the middle of the winter!
'And who are you? You must call me Cecy, which is short for CeciHa. It's pronounced, "Si Si" - "yes" in Italian. I can't stand being called Mrs Delgado by my daughter's friends. It makes me feel very old.'
'I'm Annie. Annie Harrison.'
'Come along, Annie. I'll show you up to Sylvia's room.'
Annie felt uncomfortable when Mrs Delgado - Cecy - linked her arm companionably and they went upstairs together. Would the welcome be quite so warm if Sylvia's mother knew she hadn't exchanged a single word with her daughter since she'd started school?
When they reached the first-floor landing, Cecy shouted, 'Sylvia, darling, one of your friends is here.' She pointed up the second flight of stairs. 'First door on the right. I'll bring coffee in a minute.'
'Thank you, Mrs ... I mean, Cecy.'
The knot in Annie's stomach tightened. What sort of reception would she get? It would be quite understandable if Sylvia ordered her off the premises. As far as she was concerned, Annie was an acolyte of Ruby Livesey, someone
Annie said nothing. She thought of Sylvia innocently watching the lovely Christmas scene, little realising she was about to be attacked.
The girls were at the jewellery counter discussing what presents to buy each other. 'What would you like, Annie?' Sally Barker called.
'I wouldn't be seen dead with anything off youse lot,' Annie said coldly.
They stared at her in surprise. One or two had the grace to look ashamed, as if they knew the reason for
the normally easy-going Annie Harrison's strange behaviour.
'Merry Christmas,' she said sarcastically. Turning on her heel, she marched out of Woolworth's to cries of, 'But Annie . . .'
The nuns were still in the churchyard, but there was no sign of Sylvia Delgado. Minutes later, Annie stood by the Odeon opposite the hotel where Sylvia lived. The traffic was heavy, and every now and then her view was blocked when a doubledecker bus or a lorry crawled by. The hotel was called the Grand, an appropriate name, she thought, because it was very grand indeed. Three storeys high, it was painted white and had little black wrought-iron balconies outside the windows of the first and second floors, and a red-and-black striped awning across the entire front at ground level. The doors were closed, and she wondered if it was more a posh sort of pub, rather than a hotel where people stayed.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there, hopping from one foot to the other, and swinging her arms to try and keep warm. Time was getting on, and if she didn't take her courage in both hands soon, she would be late with Dad's tea. She didn't want him coming home on such a bitter night to find there was no hot meal waiting.
Eventually, she took a deep breath and dodged through the traffic across the road. She peeped through the downstairs window of the hotel. Apart from a string of coloured lights across the bar, the big room was in darkness. She went around the side and found a small door, where she rang the bell and waited, her stomach knotted with nervousness.
After a while, the door was opened by a slim woman whom Annie recognised immediately as Sylvia's mother. Not quite so beautiful, eyes a slightly lighter blue, and several inches shorter than her daughter, but
lovely all the same. Her blonde hair was cut urchin style, in feathery wisps around her face. She wore black slacks and a pink satin shirt blouse, and smiled kindly at the visitor.
'Is Sylvia in?' Annie gulped.
'I heard her come home a minute ago. Are you a friend from school?' The woman looked delighted. 'Come in, dear. Quickly, out of the cold.'
'Thank you.' Annie stepped into the neat lobby and the change from numbing cold to instant heat was almost suffocating. She noticed a metal radiator fixed to the wall, which explained why Sylvia's mother could walk round in a satin blouse in the middle of the winter!
'And who are you? You must call me Cecy, which is short for CeciHa. It's pronounced, "Si Si" - "yes" in Italian. I can't stand being called Mrs Delgado by my daughter's friends. It makes me feel very old.'
'I'm Annie. Annie Harrison.'
'Come along, Annie. I'll show you up to Sylvia's room.'
Annie felt uncomfortable when Mrs Delgado - Cecy - linked her arm companionably and they went upstairs together. Would the welcome be quite so warm if Sylvia's mother knew she hadn't exchanged a single word with her daughter since she'd started school?
When they reached the first-floor landing, Cecy shouted, 'Sylvia, darling, one of your friends is here.' She pointed up the second flight of stairs. 'First door on the right. I'll bring coffee in a minute.'
'Thank you, Mrs ... I mean, Cecy.'
The knot in Annie's stomach tightened. What sort of reception would she get? It would be quite understandable if Sylvia ordered her off the premises. As far as she was concerned, Annie was an acolyte of Ruby Livesey, someone
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