Together for Christmas by Carol Rivers Read Free Book Online Page A

your news?’ asked Hilda as they joined the hustle and bustle.
    ‘We’ve had a letter from Will,’ Flora said and she opened the clasp of her small bag.
    ‘Let’s sit down and read it together,’ Hilda said excitedly. ‘I’m thirsty, are you?’ They looked over to the refreshment stall.
    Flora bought two ginger beers and they sat on the wooden benches. Hilda sipped daintily from her enamel mug, her little finger turned out, a new practice that Flora hadn’t noticed
before.
    ‘Inoculations? What are they?’ asked Hilda, with a frown, as she read Will’s letter.
    ‘Our troops have to be protected against some diseases they could catch in a foreign country.’
    ‘Poor Will,’ Hilda said as she read on. ‘He wants so much to be a soldier.’
    ‘If only he didn’t!’
    Hilda rolled her eyes. ‘Flora, he
wants
to fight for his country. For goodness’ sake, he’s old enough to know his own mind.’
    Flora thought, but didn’t say, that Will was far too young to know his own mind, just as Hilda was. But she knew it would start Hilda complaining that Flora didn’t understand either
of them. And so she kept silent.
    ‘Dear Will,’ sighed Hilda, returning the letter to Flora. ‘I can’t wait until he comes home to tell us about his adventures.’
    ‘Hilda, it’s no fun fighting a war.’
    ‘But what’s the point in worrying? It won’t bring him home any sooner.’
    Flora nodded. ‘No, it won’t.’
    Hilda smiled at Flora’s approval. She straightened the cloth of each gloved finger, her eyes twinkling. ‘I’ve something else to tell you.’ She looked about to burst.
‘I’m invited to Adelphi Hall in August, to be interviewed by Mrs Burns, the housekeeper.’
    Flora looked surprised. ‘So soon?’
    Hilda gave a little sigh. ‘Imagine, me going to the grand mansion itself! Oh, what will I wear? What will look best? Should I do me hair different? Shall I look older, as if I know me
onions? Or—’
    ‘Just be yourself.’
    ‘But this is my big chance, Flora. I’ve got to look the part.’
    ‘Just like you do today.’
    Hilda touched her hat lightly. ‘Do you think green is right for such an occasion? And is my feather a bit overdone?’
    Flora knew Hilda was flying into her imagination as usual, forgetting the practical arrangements. ‘How are you going to travel there?’ she asked.
    Hilda looked startled. ‘I hadn’t thought. Why?’
    ‘Can you afford the train?’
    Hilda shook her head and her ringlets danced on her shoulders. ‘Don’t know. How much will it be?’
    ‘It’s expensive to travel by train.’
    ‘I’ve never been on a train before.’ Hilda looked nervous.
    Flora hadn’t either, but she knew it wouldn’t be cheap. ‘What day are you going on?’
    ‘I’ve to write back and confirm a Sunday. Mrs Burns hasn’t got time in the week. Oh, Flora, would you come with me?’
    Just then there were yells and shouts behind them. They turned to see a commotion at the bric-a-brac stall. Several people were yelling at the owner, an older man wearing a black felt hat and
glasses. He was hurriedly trying to clear his stock away as the crowd pushed and pulled at the stall. Flora saw one man reach out and take hold of the stallholder’s jacket. He began to shake
him, and as they struggled, another man swept the shelves clean with his arm. Pieces of china and cutlery, books, trinkets and other items scattered over the cobbles. Flora gasped as everyone
rushed forward to help themselves.
    ‘You dirty German!’ a woman shrieked. ‘Get out of England, back to your own country.’
    Before very long, the stall was demolished. The owner fell to his knees, cowering, trying to ward off the blows until a policeman arrived and the poor man was removed from harm’s way.
    ‘Fancy a German trying to sell in an English market!’ a lady exclaimed as she walked by, talking to another woman. ‘The blighters sink our boats and murder the passengers, and
still expect Britain will give