A Sister's War Read online

  She needs to come out here and see how her wonderful boots were holding up.

  Finally, Ronnie reached the lock that had been built next to the open reservoir. Without warning a great gust of wind tore her hat off. Cursing, she attempted to catch it but it sailed on in front of her. She peered at her watch. It had taken her almost an hour to walk the pound. Surely Dora could have set her down at one of the bridges she’d passed so it wouldn’t have taken her this long. The woman was obviously still testing her. Ronnie twisted her head and stared hard through the rain. To her relief she could see Persephone slowly leading the way. She peered into the lock space which was empty. She’d have to fill it. She ran over the procedure in her mind. First open the paddles at the top.

  The wind flapping her raincoat, Ronnie fixed her windlass onto the socket and turned the ratchet to slowly raise the paddle, wanting to shout with joy at the sound of running water. It wouldn’t be long before it filled and the boats could enter. Then to her dismay she watched as the water ran through the bottom gate, completely running to waste. What a stupid idiot! She should have closed the bottom gate first before trying to fill it. Dora would be furious.

  Almost in tears she took hold of one of the bottom paddles and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was covered in filth and slime. She opened her hand and spread her fingers, now thick with dirt and grease, in front of her and groaned aloud. She didn’t even have a handkerchief. Her raincoat wouldn’t stand a chance of keeping clean.

  ‘Put your back against the white bit of the gate,’ she heard the echo of Dora’s voice in her ears. ‘Walk slowly back. The brick path under yer feet will help yer grip.’

  Ronnie turned and leaned against the end of the gate, pushing one foot, then the other behind her, but the gate refused to budge. She tried again, more firmly this time, but nothing happened. She bit her lip, remembering Will Drake’s words that she didn’t look strong enough to him to prepare a lock. She stuck her chin out. She’d show him. She’d show them all – especially Dora. Using every possible ounce of strength she pushed again. Her boot slid and her head banged against the paddle as she landed in a heap.

  ‘Need some help?’

  She knew that voice. Holding her throbbing head with her free hand she looked round and into the laughing eyes of Will Drake.

  Oh, why did he have to catch her at her worst moment? She needed to get the gates open immediately but Dora would be furious if she saw Will helping her.

  ‘I … um … yes, that would be very kind,’ she said, trying to struggle to her feet. But the country scene in her vision shifted and blurred in front of her and she fell back.

  Will bent low and put both arms around her waist.

  ‘Hang on ter me … that’s it … easy does it.’ He sat her on one of the beams. ‘That’s the second time terday I’ve come to yer rescue.’ He grinned, showing white teeth. ‘Yous all right?’

  Her cheeks flaming and not daring to look him in the eye she said, ‘I’m all right but my head isn’t.’

  He put his hand to her face and lifted the wet curls on her forehead.

  ‘Hmm. That’s gonna be a good’un.’

  ‘A bruise?’

  ‘’Fraid so. Yous best stay there and I’ll finish the job.’

  Dazed, her head throbbing madly, she watched as Will Drake opened the gates. His style was slow but focused, and seemingly effortless. He raised his thumb to alert the two boats that they could enter and as soon as they’d eased their way into the narrow space, one behind the other, he closed the bottom gates behind them. Ronnie staggered over to watch how he let the water in, fascinated to see Persephone and Penelope gently float to the surface. But her fascination only lasted seconds when she spotted Dora at the tiller of the motorboat. If looks could kill, Ronnie thought, she and Will would have keeled over on the spot.

  For a moment Will looked as though he would ignore Dora’s face, twisted with fury, until she shouted something Ronnie couldn’t quite catch.

  Will shrugged and opened the front gates to allow the two boats to smoothly go through. Dora steered Persephone over to the side of the canal and tied it up; Penelope, with May steering, followed in its wake. Dora leapt out.

  ‘What d’ya think yous’re playing at, Will?’ Dora’s eyes were like black slits.

  ‘Your trainee wench had an accident.’

  Dora grimaced as she rounded on Ronnie. ‘What happened, miss?’

  Ronnie pushed her wet curls back off her face, unconsciously mirroring what Will had done.

  ‘Hmm. That wants seein’ to,’ Dora said, her tone sharp. She put a hand on Ronnie’s arm. ‘Come on, I’ll help yer back on the butty. There’s a nurse lives not far along the cut just before Fenny Stratford.’

  ‘I can take her on the bike,’ Will said. ‘Get her there in no time.’

  ‘She’s in no state to be ridin’ bikes,’ Dora said.

  ‘Then I’ll see her on the boat.’

  Dora opened her mouth to argue but Will had already got his arm round Ronnie and was leading her towards the two boats.

  ‘Which one’s yours?’ Will said, turning to her.

  She could feel the grip of his arm through her raincoat. She was feeling light-headed. Was it the bang on the head? Or was it to do with Will, so close to her she could feel his breath on her cheek when he spoke?

  She pointed to the butty and he helped her onto the deck.

  ‘That’s enough,’ came Dora’s strident voice from behind. ‘I’ll see to her now.’

  ‘As yer like,’ Will said. He glanced at Ronnie. ‘Get that seen to.’ In a flash, he took her face in his hand and kissed her swiftly on the lips.

  ‘Go!’ Dora practically screamed. ‘This minute.’

  Will whipped off his cap, and with a wide grin gave Ronnie an exaggerated bow.

  It was as though they were the only two people in the world. As though Will Drake had created some kind of aura around them that no one else would be able to penetrate. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her, only that her pulse quickened and her breath caught.

  ‘Hope I’m there next time yer need a knight in shinin’ armour,’ he said, laughing, and sprang from the boat and onto the towpath. With a wave of his hand he disappeared.

  Ronnie didn’t know how her legs managed to hold her up as she slid through the hatch. She pulled down the folding bed and lay on it, not caring about the lump already forming on her head nor Dora’s wrath. She needed to think. Quietly. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Will’s presence thrilled every bone in her body. Shakily, she put her finger to her lips. They felt bruised. No boy had ever kissed her. And she’d never bothered about ‘that sort of thing’ as she called it when friends at school went on and on about their boyfriends, or how to meet one, or sobbing over the one who’d finished with her.

  Will’s kiss had been totally unexpected. And to think he’d done it in front of Dora – well, it made her admire him all the more. Dora certainly didn’t intimidate him.

  As she lay there trying to calm her beating heart, she heard Dora’s voice outside, talking to one of the others. She couldn’t hear what Dora was saying but anxiety began to form like a knot in her stomach.

  She knew she hadn’t heard the last from Dora.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘There. You should be fine now.’

  Nurse Martin washed her hands at a sink in the front room of a cottage which faced the canal. Ronnie was lying on the patient’s bed where the nurse had cleaned her forehead and dabbed on some TCP, making Ronnie wince and her eyes water with the sudden sting. The room filled with the familiar smell.

  ‘Best antiseptic for minor injuries,’ she said, examining Ronnie’s forehead again. ‘I don’t think it needs a plaster. Better to have the air on it. Let it breathe. There’s only a bad graze but you’ve got a superb bruise coming out.’

  Ronnie closed her eyes. Will said that’s what would happen.

  ‘If you have any dizziness, blurred eyesight o
r memory loss, then you must go to the nearest hospital right away as it’s likely to be concussion.’ She paused. ‘Get up nice and slowly.’

  Ronnie took in a shaky breath as she put her feet on the floor, then stood.

  ‘You don’t still feel dizzy, do you?’ Nurse Martin asked.

  ‘No … thank you. I feel all right. Sorry to make a fuss.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ the nurse said. ‘And I doubt you’ll have any repercussions, but don’t do too much today, have an early night and you’ll be right as rain in the morning – if today’s weather is anything to go by we’ll be having more “right rain” tomorrow,’ she added with a smile, looking towards the window where it was splashing down the panes in deep rivulets.

  ‘It was the rain which made opening the lock so slippery,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘You have to be very careful on the cuts, especially at this time of the year.’ The nurse removed the bottom sheet of the bed and deftly folded it. ‘We’re probably in for a long spell of winter. I take my hat off to you girls working on the boats in bad weather. But many of the trainees don’t stick it, and frankly, I don’t blame them.’ She suddenly cocked her head. ‘What’s going on? Did you hear that?’

  There was the sound of muffled shouting outside. Nurse Martin hurried to the window and peered through the rain-streaked glass.

  ‘It sounds as if someone’s in the thick of an argument,’ she said.

  Ronnie was desperate to get a look over the nurse’s shoulder, but it was impossible as she was several inches too short. Frustrated, she jumped up and saw Dora waving her arms and looking agitated. Maybe Will hadn’t ‘got lost’ as Dora had ordered him to.

  Ronnie smiled to herself. Will wasn’t the type to be ordered around by Dora or anyone.

  ‘It’s the police!’ Nurse Martin turned to her. ‘Two of them. It looks like they want to go on board and Dora’s not having any of it. They’re all standing there in the pouring rain.’

  Ronnie took a step back. The police? What on earth did they want? It flashed across her mind that she was glad Will wasn’t still hanging around, though why she would think this she had no idea.

  ‘I’d better go,’ she said to Nurse Martin. ‘Thank you very much for looking after me. I was feeling quite rough.’

  ‘I could see you were,’ the nurse said. ‘Now, remember – any trouble at all from that head and you’ll have it examined by a doctor. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, I promise,’ Ronnie said.

  ‘Can you see yourself out?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Still feeling a little light-headed, Ronnie held on to the banister rail as she went down the stairs. She opened the front door to hear Dora demanding:

  ‘Show me yer search warrant.’

  ‘Rather than getting soaked, if you’d allow us to come on board, I’ll be pleased to show you, madam,’ the older and shorter of the two men said.

  Dora pursed her lips. ‘Yous’d better come with me, then.’

  What were they looking for? Ronnie put the collar of her raincoat up and followed them onto Persephone’s deck. Dora swung round.

  ‘Oh, there you are.’ Dora turned to the sergeant, who briefly put his hand up to his cap in a half salute, and the younger man, who touched his helmet.

  Once they were through the hatch they removed their hats. Ronnie noticed the younger one had a thatch of shiny brown hair, almost too long for a policeman.

  The older one cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Sergeant Sandford and this is Constable Scott, investigators for the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company.’ He briefly touched a badge with the letters GUCC on his shoulder, then handed Dora a piece of paper. Her eyes flicked over it.

  ‘Don’t mean nothin’ to me,’ she said, giving it back.

  Did that mean Dora couldn’t understand it? Or that she couldn’t actually read it?

  ‘Would you like me to read it out?’ Constable Scott asked.

  ‘No, it don’t matter. If yer say it’s a search warrant, I’ll have ter believe you.’

  The constable turned to Ronnie.

  ‘May I have your full name, Miss …?’

  ‘Miss Véronique Linfoot,’ Ronnie said, rolling her ‘r’s in the French style. Constable Scott raised his eyebrows. ‘But known as Ronnie by everyone except my French mother.’

  The constable’s mouth twitched at the corners but he didn’t say anything, merely nodded and jotted it down in his notebook.

  ‘Well, yous’d better carry on,’ Dora said. ‘But yer won’t find nothin’ here suspicious.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Dummitt.’

  The sergeant nodded at the younger man and they began looking through the cabin, opening cupboard doors and peering into them, lifting lids of pots including the water can, and to Ronnie’s consternation even checking the lavatory bucket. She hoped to goodness it had been cleaned and disinfected. Constable Scott pulled down the folding table to disclose the pantry cupboard and moved the items of food around, then closed it back up again. He then pulled open a drawer which Ronnie remembered contained Dora’s undergarments and pulled out a large pair of bloomers. She stifled a giggle, quickly turning it into a cough.

  He swung round and caught her eye, raised an eyebrow and looked down at the offending article. A gurgle of laughter stuck in Ronnie’s throat and this time her cough was real.

  She shook her head. ‘Not mine,’ she mouthed.

  He gestured his head towards Dora who had her back to them, keeping watch on what the sergeant was checking.

  Ronnie nodded. The constable grinned and put the bloomers back in the drawer without looking any further. He lifted the lid of the coal box that formed the step down into the cabin but after a quick glance inside let it down again.

  ‘Where else do you keep your coal?’ he asked Dora.

  ‘The back end.’ Dora jerked her head. ‘Yer surely not goin’ ter check in there.’ Sergeant Sandford said nothing, merely squeezed past Dora with a mumbled ‘excuse me’, Dora following him.

  ‘We’ve got to check everything, madam,’ he said, reaching for the shovel and turning over several shovelfuls. ‘Last week we looked into a coal bunker we found a kid hiding in it.’

  ‘Well, we ain’t got no kid hidin’ in there, as yer can see,’ Dora said.

  The sergeant flashed his torch as he poked around a bit in the dark cavity. Finally, he stood up.

  ‘You have a dekko, Scott,’ he said, pulling back his shoulders with a wince. ‘Oh, hang on a minute – what’s this crate?’ He pushed with his foot a cobwebbed crate with a sack inside.

  ‘Don’t touch that.’

  ‘Why?’ The sergeant narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘My personal belongin’s,’ Dora snapped.

  ‘Sorry, Miss Dummitt, we shall have to check. Would you care to take the items out?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Then I shall have to look.’

  Ronnie was desperate to see what Dora had stored in there but after a cursory glance he only brought out a stoneware bottle. Sniffing the contents he nodded, then put it back in the crate.

  ‘Did you check the coal, Scott?’

  ‘I didn’t see anything amiss.’

  Ronnie wanted to giggle again. A black blob had appeared on the end of the constable’s nose, reminding her of Rusty. Now, anything he said, she wouldn’t be able to take seriously.

  ‘What exactly are you gentlemen looking for?’ she asked, not daring to catch Constable Scott’s eye. She was curious, but mainly she needed to say something – anything – to stop a cry of laughter.

  ‘There’s been some smuggling going on along the canals, miss,’ the sergeant said. ‘Expensive goods that are hard to get hold of these days finding their way onto the black market. It’s a serious crime. Even food items that are rationed.’ He looked at Dora. ‘I think that’s it for this boat, so I’ll take a look at the other boat.’ He turned to the constable. ‘You st
ay here, Scott.’

  ‘As yer like,’ Dora said. She sucked at her pipe stem. ‘I’d better tell the wenches to come inside the motor as there in’t room for all of us.’

  ‘After you,’ said Sergeant Sandford.

  When the two of them had disappeared, Ronnie exploded into pent-up laughter as she caught sight of the black blob the constable had no idea was smeared all over his nose.

  ‘What is it?’ Constable Scott said, joining in the laughter which made Ronnie laugh even more as he wouldn’t have known the joke was on him.

  ‘Your nose,’ she spluttered. ‘Soot.’ It was the only word she could manage before she doubled up again. What with that and Dora’s knickers …

  He put his hand up to his face. ‘Is there a mirror anywhere?’

  She shook her head. Constable Scott pulled out a clean handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her. ‘Could you dampen this and wipe it off?’

  She took it and poured a few drops of water over one corner. He lowered his head and she wiped the offending mark off the tip of his nose. It was rather a nice nose. She felt her cheeks warm at such a thought.

  ‘Has it gone?’ he said, not seeming in the least embarrassed.

  ‘Yes.’ She drew away and handed him his handkerchief.

  ‘Thank you.’ He put the handkerchief back in his pocket. ‘I thought you were laughing about Miss Dummitt’s bloomers.’

  ‘That as well,’ Ronnie said, smiling. ‘I just didn’t want you to think they were mine.’

  ‘Hardly,’ Constable Scott grinned as he looked at her. ‘You could get three of you in that pair. I should have taken everything out but I just couldn’t bring myself to look at Miss Dummitt’s intimate garments a moment longer and then come face to face with her.’

  ‘I know,’ Ronnie chuckled. ‘The awful thing is, I had to borrow a pair when I fell in the canal on my first day. My things were in the butty. It was really k-k-kind of h-her to offer—’

  And this time Ronnie snorted and then let go of all the emotion of the day. She laughed until the tears streamed down her face. It was only when she stopped that she felt the side of her head pound. She put her hand to her forehead and drew in a sharp intake of breath.