crowd. I can see something hanging from a railing, swinging in the rain.
âWait for me,â Jess calls. âHang on.â
The stall is amazing. Itâs piled to the sky with all things war. There are jackets and bags and flasks and green camp beds. There are big metal boxes and old radio equipment and belts and buckles and caps and hats and shiny medals in boxes and posters and books andâ¦
âThis,â I say, pulling it off the railing. âHow much for this?â
âIâll throw in the original box,â says the beardy man, âthis little brown suitcase and a few of these old wartime posters and you can have the lot for a tenner.â
âDone!â I smile.
âWhat dâyou want those for?â asks Jess, catching me up.
âI like them.â
Jess frowns. She shows me her new collection of plastic dolphins. They have sparkling sprays of glitter running down their silky grey backs.
âIâm going to collect them,â she smiles.
âIâm going to collect these,â I glare.
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On the way home Milo takes his tanks into battle up and down the car seat and Jess swoops her dolphinsthrough the air so they look like theyâre swimming and leaping in the sea. My mum is fuming. I think she wishes the dolphins were mine. But I think sheâs unfair. You canât really give someone money and then get cross about how they spend it. A gift is a gift, after all.
âI just donât understand why youâd want to buy anything so ridiculous, Mima,â she says when we get back home. âI give you ten pounds to spend on something nice to cheer you up, something pretty⦠and you waste it on stuff like this . Why didnât you buy lovely dolphins like Jess. Or something cute to wear?â
She swings my gas mask from her finger.
âWell, I happen to like my things,â I say, snatching it back. âAnd I donât think theyâre a waste of money. Dad would understand. Anyway, theyâre for my end of term presentation. Theyâre for school. You should be pleased.â
I run upstairs and cradle the gas mask in my hands. I stroke its big glass fly eyes. War is a mystery to me, another of the great mysteries of the world. I hang the gas mask on the end of my bed, pull down my Hello Kitty posters and replace them with the army ones. I run along the hall to the airing cupboard and dig around in the pile,looking for Dadâs old camouflage duvet cover that he had in Iraq. If Iâm going to do my presentation on Grannyâs old Blitz box, I need to get myself into the mood.
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At one oâclock itâs time to go over to the mess for the monthly Sunday lunch. Itâs different here without my dad. I didnât want to come. I wish my mum would understand me and leave me alone.
Milo charges along the road with a stick in his hand, holding it like a gun.
âPiiiiiooowwww! Piiiiioooooow!â he goes. âIâm gonna kill all the baddies, Mum,â he says. âIâm gonna beat the world and win the war. Iâm gonna chop all the nastiesâ heads off, then Dad can come back home.â
That sets Milo off thinking about Dad. He stands still. His bottom lip trembles. He opens his mouth wide.
âI waaaaannnttt my dad!â he yells. âI waaaaannnttt my daaaaaaddd!â
Mum huffs. She pulls him into her arms.
âItâs OK, Milo,â she says. âDad will come home soon, I promise.â
Milo snuffles and snots in her hair. He loops his arms round her neck.
âChin up!â says Granny, and she starts twittering away like a mad old bird. âChin up and put your best foot forward. Settle down for a nice cup of tea. Thatâs what we used to say in the war.â Then she wanders into the mess like sheâs in a dream, like sheâs not even on the same planet as us any more.
Milo follows Granny with his big blue eyes. Then he looks at