The Girls in Blue by Lily Baxter Read Free Book Online Page A

herself as she polished the nearside headlamp with a corner of the dust sheet. Those days before the war had been filled with innocent fun but it now seemed like a childhood dream.
    It would be lovely, she thought, if Jack had leave while she was at Highcliffe. Perhaps he knew Raif Carstairs; maybe they were good friends. He might even invite him to the house and then she could thank him properly for coming to their rescue. Granny would realise then that Raif was a thoroughly respectable person and not one of her fifth columnists who, according to her, were even worse than gypsies.
    A clatter of metal on concrete from the far end of the room brought her down to earth, and she looked round to see her grandfather bending down to retrieve the fallen object. She knew by the intense look of concentration on his face that he had forgotten her presence and she replaced the dust sheet. ‘Bye bye, Chloe,’ she whispered. ‘See you soon, old girl.’
    She went to see if she could help her grandfather to find whatever it was he had dropped.
    ‘You still here, Miranda?’ he said, smiling vaguely. ‘I thought you’d gone out to make sure that the sea was still there.’
    ‘Grandpa, you’ve made the same terrible joke every time I’ve come for a visit since I was six or seven.’
    ‘Have I? Well, I expect I have. Old people are inclined to repeat themselves, and I forget that you’re a young lady now and not a little girl.’ He gave a grunt of satisfaction as he spotted the paring knife down by his feet and he bent over to pick it up. He selected a large potato from the sack propped up at his side and began peeling it.
    ‘What are you doing with all these potatoes? I thought we were going to have them for dinner tonight.’
    ‘This is an experiment, my dear. If it works, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t, the final result is going to keep us warm in the winter.’
    Mystified, Miranda shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘I’m working on a method of turning potatoes into ethyl alcohol, and then hopefully into benzene. If I can convert the coke boiler to use benzene instead of solid fuel, we’ll be able to keep the central heating going during the cold weather and be patriotic at the same time.’
    ‘You’re so clever, Grandpa.’
    He shook his head. ‘I didn’t invent the process, my dear, and if it were for consumption it would be totally illegal. In fact, I am skating on thin ice as far as the law is concerned, but if I can find a way to manufacture large quantities of the stuff it would help the war effort. As it is I don’t want anyone to find out or they might get the wrong idea. Do you understand?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘And there’s always the possibility that this may not work. I’m a doctor and a soldier by profession, not an engineer or a chemist. But if I do succeed, then I’ll pass my findings on to the Ministry. Until then it must remain a closely guarded secret. Now, if you want to help me in my project you can tell Annie that I want her brother to bring me fresh supplies.’
    ‘Supplies of what, Grandpa?’
    He tapped the side of his nose, winking. ‘Potatoes. Elzevir will know what I mean.’ He paused, cocking his head on one side. ‘If I’m not mistaken those dulcet tones are Annie’s and she’s calling you. Go now and tell her that I’m starving to death and would be most obliged if she could knock up an omelette or a sandwich. Anything other than rock cakes.’
    Miranda reached up and kissed his whiskery cheeks. ‘I love you, Grandpa.’
    He blinked and a dull flush suffused his face. ‘And I love you, precious. Now off you go and don’t let Annie boss you around too much.’
    Almost as the words left his mouth the outer door was wrenched open and Annie stamped into the building. ‘I’ve been calling you, miss. Have you got cloth ears or something?’
    ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you,’ Miranda said truthfully. ‘What is it?’
    ‘You’d better come quick. You too,