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seven, and Trish is just getting over a bad dose of ‘flu, so they need special care. I’ve promised to help since their mother had to stay and look after elderly relatives.’ Daisy had heard the whole sorry story during the long night, about the entire family going down with the ‘flu, grandpa dying and their grandmother still poorly with pneumonia. The two children, Trish in particular, were feeling homesick already.
    Eyebrows arched quizzically. ‘Oh, so you are not related then?’
    ‘They are. To each other, I mean. I’m not, but. . .’
    ‘Ah well, that changes everything. You should have said,’ the woman briskly responded. ‘In that case, you shall go with that old gentleman over there, and the two little ones with Miss Pratt. There, that’s settled you all nicely. A good job well done.’
    Daisy and Megan exchanged glances of utter dismay while Trish let out a great wail of protest and flung her arms about Daisy’s leg, as if she might never let go. But there was no hope of escape. Abruptly disengaged from her hold, the weeping child was smartly handed over to a tall, thin, elderly woman with whiskers on her chin who was regarding the two little girls as if she’d never set eyes on such creatures in her life before.
    ‘Can’t I go with them? Please?’ Daisy gasped, as the pair were dragged away.
    ‘No indeed. You will go to the billet selected for you. Mr Witherspoon? She’s all yours.’ Within seconds there was no sign of a WVS uniform or large hat of any colour or description left on the platform. Daisy swivelled about in panic, took one glance at the haggard, unsmiling face of the old man beside her, then turned tail and ran after the wailing children.
    ‘Miss Pratt,’ she yelled. ‘Miss Pratt, please wait a moment.’ She caught up with the woman out on the station forecourt, quite out of breath and keenly aware of Mr Witherspoon bearing down upon them, like the devil incarnate. ‘I’ll do anything, clean your house, do the washing, anything. I’ll make myself really useful and promise faithfully to keep these children out of mischief and off your hands. You need me, you really do. Young children are a great deal of work, and I don’t eat much, I swear.’ This last was quite untrue, but she thought perhaps the elderly woman might be worrying about feeding them all. She was certainly looking thoughtful.
    ‘That is not a consideration at this juncture. I have a large garden and produce much of my own food, and naturally I have someone come in to do for me, though I do wonder if Gladys said she might be going to her sister’s in Edinburgh.’ Her eyes took on a vague, troubled look. ‘But perhaps you may have a point with regards to the children. I have other commitments, after all, and certainly could not tolerate any bad behaviour.’
    Daisy held her breath. So far, in her own short life, she’d made a frightening number of mistakes, managing to ruin her entire life at just sixteen. Now, some half-formed idea in her head was telling Daisy that perhaps by helping these two children through their own troubles it might compensate in some way for the baby she lost, and that the pain in her own heart might somehow reduce.
    After a moment, Miss Pratt swung around and called across the forecourt to Mr Witherspoon, still shambling towards them, his breathing laboured. ‘I’ve decided to take the older girl as well, Mr Witherspoon. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know.’
    He paused, lifted one hand and waved to her by way of conceding defeat. It was difficult to tell if he was relieved or not, as only his flowing beard was visible beneath a wide brimmed hat that completely obliterated the rest of his grim face.
    To Daisy it felt like a reprieve.

 
    Chapter Three
    Laura was thinking how Daisy had been an ideal grandmother, of whom she’d been inordinately fond. Bright and fun, unfussy and surprisingly go ahead, full of energy and with a wry sense of humour. Laura could see her