Read Online Jenny's War by Margaret Dickinson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Margaret Dickinson
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Charlotte headed for the bathroom Jenny stood at the top of the stairs, hanging on to the banister.
Charlotte ran the bath water until it was about twelve inches deep. She turned off the water and came out on to the landing, holding a large jar in her hand. Jenny was still standing where she’d left her. ‘You can have some of my special bath salts. They smell lovely.’
‘Don’t want to.’
Charlotte continued as if the girl had not spoken. ‘And I’ve some lovely shampoo that will make your hair shine.’
Jenny’s glance took in Charlotte’s black hair that looked so sleek and well cared for. It was very different from her mum’s brassy, dyed hair with its dark roots. She took a step towards the bathroom and then another. Charlotte waited patiently until Jenny was in the room.
‘Would you like me to help you undress?’
Jenny hesitated. Her cold heart melted a little under Charlotte’s gentleness. All the jibes about her dirtiness that she’d suffered at school, about her ragged clothes, about the livestock in her hair, even about her mother and the uncles began to fade. She stared at Charlotte and decided to succumb to whatever the next few minutes held. She nodded.
‘Right, let’s take your plimsolls off first.’
Jenny held up her feet one after the other and then raised her arms as Charlotte peeled off the thin, faded cotton dress and lastly her knickers.
‘Missis,’ Jenny whispered.
‘Charlotte,’ she was reminded.
‘Charlotte,’ the child repeated after her, feeling shy at using the Christian name of a grown-up.
‘Yes, dear?’
‘I – I think I’ve got – things – in me hair.’
‘Not to worry,’ Charlotte said cheerfully. ‘We’ll give your hair a good wash in the bath and get rid of them all, shall we? And then perhaps if I comb your hair with a special comb—’
‘You mean a nit comb?’
‘Er – well – yes, but that would do the trick. Anyway, let’s wash it first and see how we get on.’
Jenny blinked. This woman – a real lady in the young girl’s eyes – wasn’t throwing up her hands in horror or treating her as if she was something untouchable. Her puzzlement must have shown in her face for Charlotte smiled and said, ‘I was brought up on a farm, Jenny. A few nits don’t bother me, I promise you. In fact, my father still lives at Buckthorn Farm. Maybe we can go there one day and I’ll show you all the animals.’
‘Have you got pigs and hens?’
‘Yes,’ Charlotte put out her hand to help the girl into the bath, ‘and cows. You can watch them being milked, if you like.’
Forgetting just what was happening as she chattered about the animals, Jenny put her hand into Charlotte’s and climbed into the warm water. ‘I ain’t never seen a cow. Only in pictures.’
Charlotte began to soap the child’s body, wondering at the bruises she saw on the girl’s arm, but she knew better than to ask. Jenny submitted to the washing with good grace. In fact, she revelled in the smell of the soap and the bath salts. But when Charlotte asked her to lie back and have her hair washed, Jenny began to scream and thrash about in the water, sloshing it over the side of the bath on to the floor.
But Charlotte pressed on, talking soothingly to her all the time.
‘I’ll drown,’ the girl screamed.
‘I won’t let your head go under the water, I promise. But don’t wriggle so. I’ll get shampoo in your eyes.’
Charlotte was stronger than the girl had bargained for and though she was getting soaked too, she lathered Jenny’s hair and rinsed the shampoo off three times. Then she combed it with a fine-toothed comb, struggling to pull it through the tangled locks without hurting the child. But all the time, Jenny screamed and splashed.
The bathroom door opened and a merry voice called, ‘Need any help, Charlotte?’
‘Georgie!’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
At the sound of the man’s voice, Jenny stopped shrieking and stared up
Charlotte ran the bath water until it was about twelve inches deep. She turned off the water and came out on to the landing, holding a large jar in her hand. Jenny was still standing where she’d left her. ‘You can have some of my special bath salts. They smell lovely.’
‘Don’t want to.’
Charlotte continued as if the girl had not spoken. ‘And I’ve some lovely shampoo that will make your hair shine.’
Jenny’s glance took in Charlotte’s black hair that looked so sleek and well cared for. It was very different from her mum’s brassy, dyed hair with its dark roots. She took a step towards the bathroom and then another. Charlotte waited patiently until Jenny was in the room.
‘Would you like me to help you undress?’
Jenny hesitated. Her cold heart melted a little under Charlotte’s gentleness. All the jibes about her dirtiness that she’d suffered at school, about her ragged clothes, about the livestock in her hair, even about her mother and the uncles began to fade. She stared at Charlotte and decided to succumb to whatever the next few minutes held. She nodded.
‘Right, let’s take your plimsolls off first.’
Jenny held up her feet one after the other and then raised her arms as Charlotte peeled off the thin, faded cotton dress and lastly her knickers.
‘Missis,’ Jenny whispered.
‘Charlotte,’ she was reminded.
‘Charlotte,’ the child repeated after her, feeling shy at using the Christian name of a grown-up.
‘Yes, dear?’
‘I – I think I’ve got – things – in me hair.’
‘Not to worry,’ Charlotte said cheerfully. ‘We’ll give your hair a good wash in the bath and get rid of them all, shall we? And then perhaps if I comb your hair with a special comb—’
‘You mean a nit comb?’
‘Er – well – yes, but that would do the trick. Anyway, let’s wash it first and see how we get on.’
Jenny blinked. This woman – a real lady in the young girl’s eyes – wasn’t throwing up her hands in horror or treating her as if she was something untouchable. Her puzzlement must have shown in her face for Charlotte smiled and said, ‘I was brought up on a farm, Jenny. A few nits don’t bother me, I promise you. In fact, my father still lives at Buckthorn Farm. Maybe we can go there one day and I’ll show you all the animals.’
‘Have you got pigs and hens?’
‘Yes,’ Charlotte put out her hand to help the girl into the bath, ‘and cows. You can watch them being milked, if you like.’
Forgetting just what was happening as she chattered about the animals, Jenny put her hand into Charlotte’s and climbed into the warm water. ‘I ain’t never seen a cow. Only in pictures.’
Charlotte began to soap the child’s body, wondering at the bruises she saw on the girl’s arm, but she knew better than to ask. Jenny submitted to the washing with good grace. In fact, she revelled in the smell of the soap and the bath salts. But when Charlotte asked her to lie back and have her hair washed, Jenny began to scream and thrash about in the water, sloshing it over the side of the bath on to the floor.
But Charlotte pressed on, talking soothingly to her all the time.
‘I’ll drown,’ the girl screamed.
‘I won’t let your head go under the water, I promise. But don’t wriggle so. I’ll get shampoo in your eyes.’
Charlotte was stronger than the girl had bargained for and though she was getting soaked too, she lathered Jenny’s hair and rinsed the shampoo off three times. Then she combed it with a fine-toothed comb, struggling to pull it through the tangled locks without hurting the child. But all the time, Jenny screamed and splashed.
The bathroom door opened and a merry voice called, ‘Need any help, Charlotte?’
‘Georgie!’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
At the sound of the man’s voice, Jenny stopped shrieking and stared up
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