The Photographer's Wife by Nick Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

survived yet another near miss. Or they won’t. Or they will join the ranks of the dead and maimed.
    All of this passes through Barbara’s mind but she is barely even aware of it, because war, which has been going on now for almost half her life, seems normal. She doesn’t imagine that it will end because she can’t even picture what that might mean.
    When she gets to Willow Street, she finds her friend Jean sitting on the wall. Jean never goes to school and Barbara has never thought to ask her why.
    “You’re back quick,” Jean says.
    “Teacher didn’t come.”
    “D’you want to play?”
    Barbara looks up the staircase and imagines her mother in the darkened interior. She will be sitting in the armchair and Barbara knows exactly what she will be wearing, the position she will be sitting in, and the expression she will have on her face. She knows because since the factory got bombed and Minnie stopped working, none of these things change anymore. Minnie’s silent presence makes Barbara feel funny these days – sort of queasy. She thinks she should probably do something to help her mum but other than cooking and cleaning and running errands, she doesn’t know what. “OK,” she says.
    “Shall I get my skipping rope?”
    “OK.”
    Jean runs into the dark interior of the house and then reappears with her skipping rope. She is closely followed by Yasmin.
    “You not at school either?” Barbara asks Yasmin.
    She stares at Barbara with her huge brown eyes and dolefully shakes her head.
    “Shall we go to the gap?” Jean asks.
    “Why not?” Barbara replies nonchalantly. The gap is the rubble-strewn space left by three bombed out buildings in the next street where they like to play. It’s extra-exciting because it’s totally forbidden.
    “I’m not allowed,” Yasmin says.
    “Then stay here, chicken,” Jean tells her. To Barbara, she says, “Come on.”
    As they start to walk, Yasmin hesitates, then predictably, runs to catch up with them.
    “Benjamin got hit by shrapnel,” Jean says. “They took him to the hospital. But he’ll be alright, Mum reckons. It’s just his leg.”
    “His funny leg? Or the good one?”
    “I don’t know,” Jean says. “I s’pose it’d be better if it’s the funny one.”
    “Yes, I s’pose it would. Otherwise he’ll have two funny legs, won’t he?”
     
    ***
     
    Barbara uses her hip to push open the door.
    Minnie, looking up from the sewing machine, exclaims, “Tea! Thank God. I could eat a ‘orse.” The bombed out factory has just started sending out piecework and her mood has begun to improve.
    “No horses, I’m afraid,” Barbara says, “it’s corned beef fritters.”
    “Cheeky,” Minnie mutters, releasing the section of uniform that she has been sewing and stretching her arms by linking her hands behind her head. “Where’s your sister, then?” she asks.
    “She’s eating downstairs,” Barbara says – a lie. As often these days, Barbara doesn’t know where Glenda is, and as this will either make Minnie angry or upset depending on her mood, Barbara has got used to covering for her.
    Minnie scoops a finished pile of khaki collars from the table to the bed so that Barbara can put the plates down. “No greens?” she mutters when she sees the plates.
    “We’ve got carrots,” Barbara offers.
    “Since when were carrots green?” Minnie says. “I’m starting to wonder what Mildred is doing with everyone’s rations. Because she certainly isn’t cooking with them.”
    “There’s nothing in the shops, Mum,” Barbara says. “It doesn’t matter what rations people’ve got. These carrots came from someone’s garden. A friend of Sylvia.”
    “It’s not right,” Minnie says. “No potatoes, no greens, no eggs, no cheese. I don’t know how we’re supposed to win a war if there ain’t any food. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mildred is keeping the rest for herself.”
    “She really isn’t, Mum,” Barbara says, lifting a slice of fritter to