Author's Note: Thank you AJ Bird for your lovely comment! I have been uninspired with writing and forgetting to post what I already have for a while now, but getting the email with your comment made my day. So, have another chapter on me :)

…

After the noise and confusion of the hall, the St Agnes girls seemed almost unnaturally quiet and well behaved. They sat demurely under the stern gaze of Sister Bernard and Miss Richmond (which, it turned out, was Mrs Know-it-all-Clipboard's real name) and murmured to each other very softly – no one shouting or shoving or talking in the strange cockney dialect that she barely understood. It should have been a relief to be around girls more like themselves again, but Patsy found herself hunching down in her seat, trying to avoid the stares she could feel brushing her skin like the horrid, sticky strands of spider webs. She was sure that they were all talking about her and Grace, giggling to each other about how Sister Bernard had actually had to go and fetch them and drag them up to the front of the hall in utter disgrace.

She was losing count of all the things that Mama would be ashamed of them for since they left London. Maybe she wouldn't ever want them back now, and they'd have to stay evacuees forever.

Patsy held on tightly to Matilda inside her pocket, and whispered Phyllis' words to herself, over and over inside her head. 'Chin up lass. You're a brave girl, and I know you'll get along alright no matter what. Chin up lass…'

Their final destination was another hall, this one in a village surrounded by farmland and little patches of forest. It looked different from the first hall, with flowers planted outside and a notice pinned to the door that looked like it had been illustrated by a child - 'Join us in the Brownies!'.

It looked… nice.

As they filed off the bus however, Patsy noticed a little gaggle of children staring at them from across the road. When they realised they had caught the attention of some of the evacuees, they started pulling faces and calling out in an unfamiliar accent that was nothing like anyone that Patsy had heard before, so it took her a moment to realise that the things they were shouting were not very friendly.

'Urgh, more evacuees!'

'And all girls, worse luck!'

'Look at that one, doesn't she have a face like a mouldy turnip?'

'Go on back home girlies, we don't want you here!'

As soon as Sister Bernard stepped down from the bus and made to cross the road towards them they scattered, running in every direction so she couldn't possibly chase them all. She drew herself up haughtily instead and glared at as many children as she could before they all disappeared round corners or over walls. The tirade had only lasted a few moments, but it was enough to take the hopeful shine off the village and make Patsy worry that maybe they wouldn't find any friends here after all. She wasn't sure she wanted to be their friends if they were all going to be like those children had been, but it made her miss Phyllis more than ever.

Sister Bernard was still puffed up with rage as she ushered them into a line, her nostrils quivering and twin spots of red standing out high on her cheekbones.

'What terrible manners those young scoundrels had, it's shameful! I trust that you girls will conduct yourselves with more decorum while you are here, and offer yourselves as a shining example to the local rabble. We are going to raise the tone of the village, not sink to its level. Isn't that right, St Agnes?'

There were murmurs of 'yes Sister Bernard' around her, but Patsy didn't join in. She was not part of St Agnes, and she didn't think that Sister Bernard thought of her as a shining example at all.

They made a subdued procession as they marched up to the hall doors. The St Agnes girls seemed to have been flustered by the scene with the local children as well, and there was no more whispering or giggling as Sister Bernard led them into a room already crowded with row after row of children. For one foolish moment Patsy scanned their faces in search of Phyllis – there were so many that surely one of them must be her; but of course she wasn't there. These were a whole new group, and wherever Phyllis was now, she was probably with a new group as well, just as big. Patsy thought about how many children there were in front of her, and then how many had gone on to other places from the train or the first hall, and all the other trains that had left London, and the trains that must have gone out from other cities as well, hundreds upon thousands of evacuees. So many it hardly seemed possible that there could be room for all of them in the whole country, let alone just in the countryside...

This thought was interrupted by the approach of a new grown up, who smiled down at the girls and then turned to shake hands with Sister Bernard and Miss Richmond.

'Welcome, welcome. Mr Dodds telephoned to let us know to expect a few last minute extras. We hadn't planned on taking so many of course, but I'm sure we'll cope somehow. I'm afraid we do already have quite a full house, so your girls will just have to squeeze in wherever they can find room. The prospective hosts are due to start arriving at noon, so the first of them should be here any minute'.

'Thank you, Mrs…?'

'Beavin, dear'.

'Thank you Mrs Beavin. Well girls, you heard Mrs Beavin didn't you? Off you go and find somewhere to stand with the other children. You'll be collected soon'.

Patsy and Grace were not the only ones to hesitate this time, but after a moment of trepidation the girls' fear of being scolded by Sister Bernard overcame their reluctance to join another big group of unfamiliar children and they moved forwards, filtering into the crowd in twos and threes until they were utterly absorbed by it.

Patsy led her sister through the untidy rows of children, picking their way carefully around bags and suitcases. They ended up towards the back of the hall, next to a lanky boy with sticking out ears and knobbly knees poking out from beneath his short trousers. He had a well scrubbed look that made Patsy think that Mama wouldn't object too strongly to them standing next to him, but he also didn't look like very promising material for a new friend. He didn't so much as glance at them when they came to stand beside him, just kept watching the front doors with an intense, fearful sort of expression, as if at any moment a pack of wolves might come howling in to eat him.

Well, maybe they would.

Nothing about evacuation so far had matched what Patsy had expected, and almost all of it had been worse than she had known to fear (except for meeting Phyllis of course, but they had only got to stay with her for a day, and having to say goodbye had been the worst thing of all).

So maybe hungry wolves running in to eat them all was just the next Bad Thing that was going to happen to them in a long line of Bad Things.

She got so deeply engrossed in this thought, imagining her own tragic (but heroic) demise between the jaws of a pack of wolves, that when the doors actually did open she jumped, grabbing for Grace's hand as if it really was wild animals coming for them.

Actually, it was a group of very ordinary looking grown ups, nattering away amongst themselves and eyeing up the children waiting in lines for their inspection with expressions ranging from pity, to curiosity, to outright distaste. For a moment the sight of them was a relief (although she knew really how silly her imaginary wolves had been), but once they started moving among the children and making their choices, Patsy found that it felt rather a lot like being hunted after all.

The worst thing was the way the grown ups talked about them all – comparing children's heights, their clothes, the attractiveness of their features and cleanliness of their faces quite openly, as if they weren't standing right there, listening to every word. It felt even worse than being a labelled parcel at the station. Now they were reduced to mere slabs of meat at the butcher, or animals on a farm. The boy next to Patsy was asked to show his fingernails, his hands, and then his teeth, as if he was a horse. And after all that, he still wasn't chosen. It was frightening, but it made Patsy feel indignant too.

Once or twice someone stopped in front of her and Grace, admiring their expensive clothes and clean, neat hair. Each time they passed on though – the first explaining quite kindly that she only had room for one little girl, and it was clear from the way the two of them were holding onto each other that they would rather not be separated. The second was less polite, and muttered about how 'spoiled and sullen' they looked as she passed them by. Patsy tried hard not to notice them after that, staring around at what was going on in other rows instead to try and distract herself from the personal comments being made about her and her sister closer at hand.

Grace didn't like it either, holding tight to Patsy's hand and shrinking against her as if she wanted to disappear altogether. She could feel her trembling a little, though she didn't start crying again. If only Phyllis was here, she'd be able to cheer them up. She'd think of a game or a story to distract them, or at least put an arm around them both so they didn't feel so lost...

Suddenly Grace's hand was snatched from hers. Patsy whipped round immediately, reaching for her sister, but it was too late. Grace was being lifted right off her feet and into the arms of a tall blonde woman.

'Hello my little angel, aren't you just the sweetest-'

'Grace! You put her-'

Neither of them managed to finish their sentence, because as Grace let out a wail of fright as she was pulled so unexpectedly away from Patsy. Her hands flailed out in shock at being picked up without warning by a stranger, and one of them connected with the woman's cheekbone. There was a dull smacking sound as it hit, and the woman gave a gasp of outrage.

'Oh! Oh you little-'

She dropped Grace hastily to the floor and stepped back, clutching her only slightly reddened cheek.

Grace was sobbing, terrified by the grabbing and now the shouting, her knees scraped from where she had landed on all fours, unable to keep her feet after being dropped so abruptly. Patsy helped her up and pulled her close into a hug, trying to reassure her even as the woman continued to shout.

'The little beast! She just attacked me, punched me right in the face, the brat! I shall have a bruise. And here I am just trying to do these poor little evacuees a kindness!'

Grace hadn't meant to hit her, she had just been startled and afraid and the movement had been instinctive. It was pure chance that it had connected with flesh rather than striking the empty air, but that didn't seem to matter.

There was a little bubble of shocked, empty space around them now. The boy with the knobbly knees had shuffled so far away that he was practically standing on the next child in their row, and all conversation had ceased in their vicinity, apart from the continued admonitions of their assailant.

It didn't take long for the nearest volunteer to notice and make her way over to them, hurrying straight for the shouting woman, rather than the sobbing children.

'Ma'am? Is everything alright?'

'No it most certainly is not alright! That, that… child just hit me!'

'Oh no! Surely not? Which one was it?'

'Her, over there'.

The lady gestured vaguely in the direction of Grace and Patsy before launching right back into her tirade.

'She slapped me right across the face, when I was only trying to be kind! These awful, awful little cockneys, I'm really not sure they're all right in the head. You know I didn't want to believe the rumours, I really didn't, but it seems they really are true. I feel quite upset by it. I'm not sure I can see my way to taking any of them after this'.

'Now, don't say that. A lot of the children are lovely, sweet little things, don't let one bad apple spoil the bunch. Why don't you go and talk to Sister Bernard over there? She has charge of a girls school, all very well brought up young ladies with impeccable manners. I'm sure she could pair you with a nice, calm child instead. I'll see to the other one, don't you worry about that. I'm so sorry you had to go through such an upsetting incident'.

'Perhaps I will. I'm going outside to take some air, but then I shall consider it. I tell you I'm still too upset to speak just now'.

The woman clipped away on her high heels like an offended pony, still clutching her cheek as if Grace's soft little hand had been made of stone. Once she was out of earshot the volunteer turned towards them, and Patsy's heart sank.

It was Miss Richmond.

Of course it was.

She clearly recognised them as well, because her eyes widened even as her mouth pinched into a tight frown.

'You!'

'Please, it was-'

'I might have known you'd be the culprit! First you bully your poor little sister, and now this!'

'No, Miss Richmond you've got it wrong, it was an acci-'

'Don't you dare contradict me, that poor lady told me exactly what happened! I feel utterly sickened to think a little girl like you could be so vicious'.

'It was Grace Miss Richmond, but she didn't mean to-'

'And now you try to blame that poor baby? Look how much you've upset her! I won't have it, I tell you, we will not put up with this behaviour.

Sister Bernard! Sister Bernard, a word please!'

Sister Bernard came over to join them, looking from Miss Richmond to the distraught Patsy and Grace and back again.

'Is there a problem here?'

'There certainly is. I want to see to it that these two girls are billeted separately. Last night I witnessed a terrible bullying incident of the older one against her little sister, and this morning she has proved that she is violent as well as unkind. The good lady that she struck has been so distressed by her attack that she very nearly withdrew her offer to house any evacuee at all. If we leave them together I believe it will be severely to the detriment of the younger girl, if not through bullying and hitting, then through corruption with her bad influence. I have never seen the like from such a clearly well cared for child. I'm quite decided, I don't want them housed together. Will you make sure of it Sister Bernard?'

'No, Sister Bernard, please, it isn't true! You can't!'

Sister Bernard didn't even look at her, her eyes not so much as flickering from Miss Richmond as they spoke.

'Certainly, if you think it for the best. Single children are easier to place in any case. I shall try to see to it that the older girl is sent to someone who will be able to manage her, if she is as wild as you say. She's not a St Agnes girl you know, we just offered to mind them for the journey. We would never allow such behaviour among our pupils'.

'Oh, I am quite certain of it! And here I thought the slum children would be the hardest to deal with. They're little angels next to this one!'

'Never mind Miss Richmond, I shall oversee their case now. I'm going to take the littler girl to stand somewhere else now, and then-

Oh merciful heaven, what was that?'

'That' was the sudden uproar and confusion of a small St Agnes girl, queasy from the bus ride and further unsettled by the crowds and unfamiliar situation, vomiting her breakfast bun all over the child in front of her.

Both Sister Bernard and Miss Richmond hurried away at once to help disentangle the two sobbing, screaming, sick covered children, without pausing to wrench Grace from her sister's grip first and take her with them.

Patsy let out a held breath and scrubbed a hand across her eyes, trying to pull herself together. The sick incident had been a miracle, turning everyone's attention away from them and distracting Sister Bernard before they could be separated, but in a few minutes she would be back, and they couldn't just stay here waiting for Grace to be taken away.

Almost before the idea had fully formed in her mind, Patsy had decided. They wouldn't be here when Sister Bernard came back, that was all. She would think they had been chosen and taken away while she was busy, but really they'd have run off, just the two of them.

She looked around for an escape route, keeping both arms wrapped tightly around Grace all the time she had her eyes off her, in case anyone else tried to snatch her while she wasn't looking. The front door was impossible - there were too many grown ups near it, and they'd have to walk right past Sister Bernard and the sick girl to get there. There was another door at the back though. Maybe they could get back outside that way? It was better than staying here, wherever it led.

'Come on Grace, we have to go now, before they come back'.

'Go where?'

'Just… Just away. You heard what that horrible lady said, they're going to send us to different homes, then we'll never see each other again'.

'I don't want to be all on my own!'

'I know Gracie, nor do I. That's why we need to run away now, before they remember and come to get us'.

Grace nodded. There were still tears rolling down her cheeks, but she was making an obvious effort to stop crying and concentrate on where they were going, trudging determinedly along beside Patsy without complaint; even though she would normally have sat down and howled about the scraped knees until someone came and tended her, or bribed her to stop with a sugar lump.

They had almost made it to the door when a new voice stopped them.

'Where are you two going then? You can't just wander around in here you know. You need to stay nicely in your line until you get chosen'.

Thank goodness, it was Mrs Beavin, not Sister Bernard or Miss Richmond. Patsy didn't think she had been anywhere close by earlier to know about the separation plan, so she didn't try to make a run for it. Instead, she turned and gave the woman the most convincing smile she could manage.

'I'm sorry Mrs Beavin, my sister needs to visit the WC. She's desperate to go and she's only little, she might not be able to hold it in much longer'.

Her voice might have wobbled a bit as she spoke, but maybe Mrs Beavin would just think it was always like that and wouldn't notice.

Mrs Beavin glanced at Grace's tear-stained face and sighed.

'Oh very well, I can see the little pet is getting herself into a state over it. But do hurry up, won't you? You don't want to miss seeing all the nice families. The toilets are through there on the right. Have you got that dear? Right is that way'.

Patsy was feeling too anxious even to be properly offended that Mrs Beavin thought she might not know her left and right. They were wasting precious seconds, and at any moment Sister Bernard or Miss Richmond might be back.

'Yes. Thank you. Come on Gr- come on Maud'.

She dragged her sister through the door as quickly as she could, breathing a sigh of relief when it closed behind them and they were finally out of sight of the main hall.

As soon as they were inside, Grace pulled her hand free from Patsy's and turned on her.

'Why did you say I was Maud?'

'Because then if anyone's looking for us and they ask Mrs Beavin, she'll give them the wrong name of course'.

'But I don't want to be Maud'.

'Well of course you're not going to be called Maud really, I was just tricking her so we wouldn't get split up'.

As she spoke, Patsy was looking around the short corridor for another exit, but there didn't seem to be one. On the right was the WC, just as Mrs Beavin had said, and a tiny kitchen a little further along. On the left there was a smaller, plainer door that looked like a cupboard.

No way out.

They were going to have to hide, then sneak out the front door after everyone else was gone. She took a couple of steps towards the WC, but then stopped. Sister Bernard might bring the two sick covered children through any minute and take them to get cleaned up, and of course she would head straight for the WC, they couldn't hide in there.

How long had it already been since Sister Bernard and Miss Richmond had gone to deal with the children? A minute? Two? Not very long, but maybe long enough to have calmed the situation to the point where they could bring the children in here. If they stayed they would be caught for certain.

They had to hide, now.

The WC was out, and the kitchen was no good either – it didn't have a door and there was nowhere inside for them to hide. But there was the cupboard.

Patsy hurried over to it and gave the door a tug, afraid for a second that it would be locked, but thank goodness it opened easily.

It was more of a small storage room than a cupboard really - there was a window high up on the wall that let in golden early autumn sunshine, so it wasn't too dark, and there were a few tables and folding chairs crammed in among the dusty boxes. It would do. No one would come looking for them here.

Patsy let out a sigh of relief and sank down to sit on the floor, hardly pausing to think about the dust this time.

'Do we have to live in a cupboard now?'

'Shh Grace, we have to whisper, or someone outside might hear us!'

Grace scowled, but dropped her voice to the softest of whispers to match Patsy's 'Do we though?'

'No not live. We're just hiding here for a little while'.

'Then can we go home? I want to go home'.

Home.

It was such a tempting idea. Their own clean, comfortable bedroom, with all their books and toys and fresh clothes, proper food and a nice bathroom they didn't have to queue up for.

She thought she wouldn't complain about having to mind Grace ever again, if only she could do it at home.

But...

'We can't. How would we get all the way to London by ourselves? It's miles and miles and miles away. And even if we did, Mama might just tell us off and then send us straight back to Sister Bernard. She wouldn't listen if we tried to explain. Grown ups never listen. No, we'll just stay here until everyone else leaves, and then…'

And then… And then…

Then... what?

Then Matilda bear would summon her family of real, big bears to come and carry them back to their cave, where they'd live on honey and fish and play in the woods all day long?

Of course not.

Then they'd be really, properly on their own with no one to look after them at all, not even just to bring them stale buns.

Maybe they really could go and live in the woods though? Not with the imaginary bears, but just the two of them? No one would find them there, and 'The Jungle Book' had made it sound quite good fun (alright, the tigers and snakes were scary, but there weren't any tigers or big snakes in this country, except in the zoo).

It wasn't too cold yet – they'd been alright with just their coats in the hall, and by the time it got to winter they'd probably have managed to build a hut to keep warm in, like Robinson Crusoe. They had provisions too – the apple and the gingerbread and rolos, and the two barley sugars from Phyllis. When those ran out they could find nuts and berries, and maybe walk to a different town every now and again and earn pennies to buy buns. They didn't have any matches or posies to sell like in stories, but perhaps they could dance or sing to get coins? Some people did do that, Patsy had seen them.

The trouble was that she didn't really know how to dance properly yet, and neither her nor Grace were particularly good at singing. Patsy's voice wandered off from the tune of its own accord if she got nervous, and Grace could never remember all the words to anything more than the simplest little baby songs.

The idea had seemed an excellent one for a moment, but the more she thought about it the more impossible it became. What would they do when it rained, or when they needed the WC? And it was all very well knowing that there were plenty of berries about, but that didn't help if you weren't sure which ones were safe to eat. Some kinds were poisonous, weren't they? Besides, it had been scary enough sleeping in the hall, surrounded by grown ups and with Phyllis right there beside them; it would be much, much too scary to sleep outside by themselves...

What about Phyllis though? If they could only find her again, she'd help them. Maybe she would still be at the other hall, and they could get back to her, or at least find out where she had gone and follow her there. If she was with kind people, they might agree to take Patsy and Grace as well. And if not… if not then Phyllis would still help them. They could hide in her room and sneak scraps to eat. No one would even need to know they were there.

Yes.

That's what they'd do. As soon as everyone left the hall, she and Grace would sneak out and start walking back the way the bus had come. The journey had felt long, but it probably hadn't been that far really – everything felt long when you knew everyone else was looking at you and talking about you. It couldn't be that hard to just keep following the road anyway, even if it took days and days. They might even find someone who would give them a lift in their car.

It would all be alright, just as long as they could stay hidden for a bit longer.

'We'll go and find Phyllis. Won't that be nice? We can all be together again. We just need to keep absolutely quiet and hidden now. Alright Grace?'

Grace nodded solemnly, and for a while they sat in silence, both thinking about their coming reunion with their friend.

After a couple of minutes they heard the hall door open and close, and two childish voices united in howling their misery as a grown up muttered something that was presumably meant to be soothing. Patsy guessed this was the sick children, being taken to get washed in the bathroom as she had predicted. She sat tensely all the time they were in there, but after another few minutes she heard them heading back out into the hall, their howls reduced to sniffles now they were clean. No one came near the cupboard or tried to get in.

They were still safe, for now.

'I'm bored'.

'Grace! Whisper!'

'Alright! But I am bored. Can we play Orlando?'

Patsy groaned.

'Again? Aren't you tired of that game yet?'

Grace shook her head, her expression mulish.

'I like Orlando best'.

'Well, I don't think we should play Orlando just now. You might forget to whisper and then we'd be caught'.

'So what caaan I doooooo'.

'Well… why don't we explore a bit? There might be something interesting in one of these boxes'.

Grace seemed unconvinced, but she came over to look when Patsy started poking through them in search of something that might keep a four year old entertained (quietly entertained) for however long they might be stuck here.

The first box contained table cloths, the next bottles of polish and floor cleaner and a bundle of rags. The third was more promising - Christmas decorations.

Patsy sat back and let her sister dig through this box, tangling herself in the paper chains and hanging little christmas tree ornaments from her ears as pretend earrings. Thus adorned, she rummaged further and seized eagerly on something deeper down, pulling hard to free it from the mess of other things.

She had found a naked baby doll, half wrapped up in a faded tea towel. Given that it had been in the Christmas box, Patsy suspected it was meant to be the baby Jesus, but she let Grace play with it anyway. Mama would have said it was disrespectful, but Patsy decided that Jesus would understand and not mind about Grace playing with him like a normal baby. It might even make a nice change from being holy all the time.

Patsy didn't join in the game, even when Grace told her hopefully that she could be the Daddy if she liked. She couldn't concentrate on anything but the distant sounds coming from the hall, and sat by the door straining to hear any hint that they had been missed.

It would be safest to stay put in the cupboard until everyone else was gone, but eventually she could resist no longer. She left Grace whisper-crooning to her doll with strict instructions not to leave the cupboard no matter what, and tiptoed very, very cautiously out into the corridor.

She edged the door to the hall open the barest crack and peered through, her heart hammering in case Sister Bernard was standing right on the other side waiting to get her.

She wasn't.

The hall was a bit emptier now, the ranks of children starting to thin out as more and more were chosen and taken away, but it was still far from safe. Still, no one seemed to be looking for them, so she didn't think they'd been missed. Even Miss Richmond seemed entirely occupied with other things. She was bending over a little boy who had started wailing piteously, his nose running right down into his mouth in a most off putting way. Miss Richmond didn't seem to know what to do about it. She made patting gestures over his head, but didn't quite touch it, as if afraid he might be dirty. Well, he was dirty, but he was also very little and clearly frightened.

Patsy watched an old lady volunteer step in and stoop to the crying child. This lady gave him a hug and mopped him up in spite of his general griminess, then picked him up and carried him to one of the less ferocious looking villagers still in the hall. A man, probably around her own age with wire rimmed spectacles and corduroy trousers that were earth stained and faded at the knee, as if he'd come straight from working in his garden. They spoke earnestly for a few minutes, and at the end of it she handed the boy into the old man's care and they left together.

Patsy tore herself reluctantly away from the crack in the door then and hurried back to the cupboard. She wished they'd had a clipboard lady like her, instead of Miss Richmond. Maybe if they'd been with a grown up who listened, who hugged grubby children and helped them find homes with kind faced old men instead of making assumptions and telling them off, then everything could have happened differently.

When she was safely back inside she realised that Grace was no longer playing with the Jesus doll. He was lying abandoned in an undignified pose, face down and bottom in the air; while Grace sat on the floor sucking her fingers mournfully.

'Grace?'

'You were so long'.

'Oh Gracie, I'm sorry. Were you frightened?'

'No'.

But she clung to Patsy when she sat down beside her and buried her face in her coat, snuffling a little.

'Do you want me to read you Orlando?'

A nod.

'And can I have a ginger man?'

'Well…I really want to save those. We might have to walk for ages and ages to find Phyllis, and we'll get hungry then. Why don't you suck on your barley sugar instead? And I'll get Kitty out so he can listen to Orlando with you'.

It was a blatant bribe, but an effective one. Grace rummaged in her pockets for her barley sugar while Patsy made them a little nest to sit in out of the table cloths and an old cardigan that Grace had found at the bottom of one of the boxes. It wasn't as comfortable as the dens they had sometimes made at home with pillows and blankets, but it was much cosier than sitting on the floor.

They read Orlando cover to cover three times, reaching the end and then turning right back to the beginning and reading it again until Patsy felt ready to throw the book right out of the window if she had to say one more thing about Orlando the improbable, car driving cat and his silly family going through the same gentle adventures over and over.

'Shall we try something different now? I could read you a bit of my book, or tell you Cinderella or Snow White?'

'No, Orlando'.

'Again?'

'Orlando please'.

Patsy couldn't think of anything else to do, so, reluctantly, she complied. Even on the fourth reading, Grace looked very hard at the pictures as if she was seeing them for the first time, stroking each cat gently with the tip of her finger on every single page. She whispered the words along with Patsy, adding little mews and the occasional 'oh, naughty Tinkle!' or 'fishy fishy' for good measure. Eventually she grew quiet and still, lulled into sleep by the soothing familiarity of the story and the relative comfort of their tablecloth nest.

After a while Patsy's eyelids grew heavy too, but she couldn't go to sleep. If someone came towards the cupboard they'd have to move quickly and crouch behind a table out of sight, and she needed to stay alert and keep listening for the slightest hint that they were in danger. She tried reading her own book to distract her, but even Dimsie's boarding school adventures couldn't hold her attention properly. The words kept slipping out of focus and her head nodded a little over its pages.

It had been a long, uncomfortable night, and the heap of musty old tablecloths now felt cosier than the softest mattress in the world. Her eyes closed once... twice... and she was asleep.

And then she wasn't.

There was someone outside their cupboard.

The handle was turning-

Patsy sprang to her feet, disentangling herself as best she could from the tablecloths while she looked wildly around for a place to hide. But it was too late, the door was open and there was a lady standing there, looking right at her, it was too late.

'Oh my! What are you two doing in here?'

There was a lump in her throat making it hard to talk, but she had to say something, anything to explain their presence...

'We- we came to look for the WC, and then… um…'

But she couldn't think of any reason why they would have gone looking for the WC and stayed in a cupboard instead, and the sentence trailed off into a sad little squeak that was half sob, half gulp.

'Oh dear, you poor little poppet. Don't worry cariad, you're not in trouble, I just want to help you. Can you tell me why you were hiding? Did you get frightened of all the crowds?'

Patsy peered up through her lashes and recognised the old lady from the hall, the one who had looked after the little boy and found him a home, and hadn't seemed a bit cross that he was grubby and snotty and making a fuss. She seemed kind – much kinder than Miss Richmond or Sister Bernard.

And she had said they weren't in trouble...

'No… well, a bit. But not mostly that'.

'What was it mostly then pet?'

'Miss Richmond- Miss Richmond said they were going to split us up. She said I was a bad influence but I didn't do what she said, I promise I didn't. Only she wouldn't listen, and they were going to make Grace and me go to different places and we can't, we have to stay together!'

It poured out in a rush, and Patsy put her hands over her mouth when she had finished, as if she might be able to cram the words back in. She shouldn't have said anything about them getting separated. This lady might not have known before, but now she did, maybe she'd make sure they really were split up after all…

But the lady didn't rush out to fetch Miss Richmond and hand them over. She nodded very seriously instead, and continued to talk in the same calm, sympathetic tone as before.

'That must have been very upsetting for you both. I'm sure Miss Richmond meant well, but it sounds like she didn't give you a fair hearing, is that right?'

Patsy nodded.

'Well, why don't you tell me what happened? I promise to listen to everything you say and not jump to conclusions'.

'But what if Miss Richmond comes while I'm telling you and makes us go with her? She was really, really cross'.

'I think your Miss Richmond has gone now, almost everyone has. There's just a few of us locals left clearing up out there, so you're quite safe. No one will take you away if you're with me anyway, but we can shut the door if you like, so we're hidden again?'

'...alright'.

The lady gave her a warm smile and did as she had said, coming right into the little room and shutting the door behind her so no one could see them.

She sat down on the floor, not fussing a bit about the dust, and patted the floorboards beside her.

'Now then, tell me what happened'.

Patsy did so, a little haltingly at first, but growing more confident as the lady turned out as good as her word, not interrupting or looking a bit angry or disbelieving as the story came out. She told all about the accidental slap, and Miss Richmond assuming it had been her, about being called a bully and a bad influence, and then the plan to separate them. Then she explained about hiding, and finally the plan to find Phyllis and stay with her instead so they could keep together.

When it was done the lady was quiet for a minute, taking it all in.

'It sounds like you've had a very difficult day'.

'Are you going to split us up?'

'No sweetheart. It sounds like a big misunderstanding, and I don't think what happened was your fault at all. I'm afraid we probably can't manage to put you with your friend Phyllis, but I don't see any need to stop you and your sister being together'.

'Do you promise?'

'I promise. No one else even needs to know the idea was ever discussed, it can be our secret. Now, let's get you two sorted out shall we? I'm afraid all the families have gone already, but we'll think of something, don't you worry. Can you tell me your names?'

'I'm Patsy. That's my sister Grace sleeping over there'.

'Well Patsy, it's lovely to meet you, and Grace too! What lovely names you both have. My name is Mrs Parry, but you can call me Glynis if you like. Here, why don't I carry that case for you?'

Once the books and Kitty had been returned to the case and Grace had been roused and convinced they were safe to go with Mrs Parry, they returned to the hall together.

There were only two volunteers left, buttoning up their coats and pinning hats into place ready to leave, but they both turned to stare at them as Mrs Parry opened the back door.

'I'm afraid we have a couple of little lost lambs here! This is Patsy and Grace. Would either of you be free to take them door to door? There's a few families we were expecting that didn't turn up, I'm sure one of them will have room for these two. I'd go myself, but I really should get home to my granddaughter, she'll be wanting her tea by now'.

The taller of the two shook her head quickly 'Not me Glyn, my boys will be home any minute and I need to get supper on. I haven't time to be traipsing the streets with waifs and strays'.

They all looked at the other woman, who sighed and grumbled for a moment before conceding.

'Oh very well, I suppose I'd better do it then. It had just better not take too long, that's all. My feet are killing me already'.

'There you are girls! Miss Bowen will take you to find a new home, and you'll be sitting down to supper before you know it'.

Then to the lady:

'Thanks Enid. I'd try Mrs Griffin first if I were you, she loves children and I'm sure she'd be more than happy to take both of them. I know she planned to be here, but I expect her hip's been playing up again and she couldn't manage the walk'.

Miss Bowen muttered something that might have been agreement, and put a hand on each girl's shoulder to steer them out the hall. Patsy looked back at Mrs Parry over her shoulder anxiously. She wished they could have stayed with her instead, she seemed so much friendlier than sour Miss Bowen.

'Come along then. Though I don't see why you couldn't just stay put like all the others'.

Miss Bowen walked quickly, her heels tapping hard on the pavement as if she was stomping in temper, though she was a grown up, so surely she couldn't be. Her pace was so fast that it was hard for their shorter legs to keep up, until they were practically running along in her wake.

When she stopped suddenly in the road, Patsy very nearly ran right into her legs, and Grace kept going a few steps before realising they'd stopped and coming back, bewildered.

Miss Bowen was waving at someone coming down the lane towards them, leading a horse with a cart behind him.

'Enid? Is that you? Just the girl I was hoping to meet!'

'Oh Bertie, were you really?'

Miss Bowen didn't look at all cross anymore. She was smiling up at Bertie and giggling a little, even though he hadn't said anything funny.

Bertie was smiling too, his ears turning bright red as he spoke.

'I was Enid. I just stopped by your house, but you weren't there. I was hoping you might agree to come to mine for a spot of supper. Mam would love to have you, and our Sarah's keen to see you again. And- and me too of course'.

'Oh what a shame, I'd love to come of course, but it would be much too late to walk home after…'

'Well, I'll give you a lift back, nothing easier. We'll be able to talk on the way'.

'Oh, go on then!'

Miss Bowen's cheeks had gone as pink as Bertie's ears now, and Patsy looked from one to the other, perplexed.

They seemed to have forgotten all about her and Grace.

She wondered whether they should just sidle away and go off by themselves to find Phyllis after all, but the idea was less tempting than it had been. It would take hours and hours to walk back to the first hall, if they could even remember the way. And what if no one knew where Phyllis was when they got there? Besides, a kind old lady with a sore hip who loved children didn't sound too bad.

She gave a little cough, and Miss Bowen glanced down at her, the girlish blush fading as she remembered her charges.

'I just need to drop these two off with Mrs Griffin first. Could we go there on the way?'

Bertie shook his head, looking disappointed.

'I wish I could Een, but I'm late as it is and Mrs Griffin lives right at the wrong end of the village. Mam'll have my guts for garters if supper's ruined waiting for me again. Maybe we should just put it off until another night, if you have things you need to do?'

'No. No, let's do it tonight, I'm so looking forward to it now. I'll just bring the girls along with us. There'll be someone on the way who can take them'.

She turned an insincere smile on Patsy and Grace and said with sugary sweetness:

'How would you girls like a horsey ride?'.