Edie felt this really would be a wonderful thing – like borrowing a brother and sister of her own for a while. “What do you think, Aunt Roberta? Oh, please say yes. Please say they can stay… ”
Chapter Four
Three Chimneys
“Come along then, children.” Aunt Roberta picked up Greta’s suitcase. She marched past Len Snigson, whose narrow eyes were as wide as the big brass buttons on his porter’s uniform. “You can stay tonight, but I’m not promising more than that.”
“Really?” Edie beamed. “Oh, that’s wonderful. You’re a brick!”
“It’s very kind of you,” said Gus.
“Thank you, Aunt Roberta,” cried Greta, running to catch up with her.
“She’s not your aunt,” hissed Gus. But if Aunt Roberta had heard, she didn’t seem to mind. Edie and Gus picked up their own cases and followed her through the waiting room before she could change her mind. All three children were still wearing their gas masks slung around their necks. Not that Edie could ever imagine needing them here: the air smelt so fresh and clean. As she stepped out of the station, she saw a sleepy cluster of cottages with spring flowers in the window boxes and a little village church beside a burbling stream.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, putting her bag down for a moment to look both ways up and down the quiet, hilly street. “Even prettier than I’d imagined.” She looked above the little houses towards the rolling moors beyond. “And wilder too,” she said with a tingle of excitement.
She reached down and picked up her case again, beginning to regret that she had packed so many of her favourite books. Whichever direction they were going, it was bound to be uphill.
“Here. Let me help. That looks heavy.” A figure stepped out of the shadows at the side of the lane. Edie jumped backwards. She almost screamed. Greta grabbed her hand. Gus slunk back too.
“Sorry.” The man blinked. Or at least, one eye did. The other seemed to be made of glass. He tried to smile, but only one side of his mouth moved. The other side – with the glass eye – drooped downwards. The skin on his cheek was tight and shiny, like polished leather on a new pair of shoes. It was scored with three thick scars. “I startled you.”
“No, sir!” blundered Gus.
“Not at all,” Edie added, but she wished she’d said nothing. Her voice came out far too loud. She might as well have taken one look at the poor man and run away screaming, for all the good her pretence at calmness did now. She tried her best not to stare, at least. Greta, on the other hand, was gawping with her mouth wide open. She took a step closer with her head on one side.
“What happened to your face?” she asked. “Did a tiger fight you?”
“No,” said the man. “I’m afraid it was a shell.”
“A shell?” said Greta. “Like a seashell?”
“Shh!” Gus pulled her backwards by the hood of her coat.
“Children,” said Aunt Roberta. “This is Peter.”
“Uncle Peter?” Edie gasped.
“Hello. You must be Edie.” He held out his hand. “No prizes for guessing that, though it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” He gave her that same half smile. “You’re the spitting image of Phil – or Fliss, as you call her!”
“Gosh!” Edie blushed. “I don’t think so. Not really… ” She was starting to gabble. She did so very much want Uncle Peter to like her. She didn’t want him to think that she was the sort of silly girl to be frightened by a few old wounds. She knew, of course, that he’d fought all those years ago in the Great War when he was practically just a boy, but she’d never expected he’d still bear terrible scars like this. Why had no one warned her? She swallowed and tried to take a breath. “What I mean to say is Fliss is so … oh, I don’t know … elegant. And I’m not.”
“Phyllis? Elegant? Do you hear that, Bobbie?” Uncle Peter snorted. “You should have seen her when she was your age, Edie. She tripped over her bootlaces about ten times a day. I used to tease her that she’d trip up going down the aisle to get married. Then her husband would trip over her trailing laces too and smash his nose in.” He looked at Aunt Roberta. “And what was it she used to say?”
“I don’t remember.” Aunt Roberta stiffened and picked up Greta’s suitcase again.
“Yes, you do,” said Uncle Peter. “She said she rather marry a fellow with a smashed-up nose than not marry anyone at all.”
“Well, she didn’t, did she?” said Aunt Roberta firmly. “She didn’t marry anybody, as it happens.” Her gaze flicked to Edie.
In that split second, Edie saw a cloud cross her aunt’s face. Her heart sank. She had no doubts now. She was the reason why Aunt Roberta and Fliss had fallen out. Aunt Roberta’s anger at Fliss was definitely because she had not been married when Edie was born. The sharp comment and the look of displeasure on her aunt’s face had said it all.
Edie turned away, squinting into the sun. She could feel Gus staring at her. For someone who didn’t like sharing his own family business, he was certainly hanging on every word now.
“Poor old Phil! She has plenty of choice of husbands, though,” laughed Uncle Peter. “If it’s smashed-up fellows she’s after, we’re two a penny nowadays.” Edie looked up and he smiled and winked at her with his one good eye. Suddenly he didn’t look scary at all. He looked like a cheeky schoolboy, stirring up trouble with his big sister.
Edie smiled shyly back at him.
“Now, how about you introduce
