Queenie Read Online Free Page B

I put my left foot down and then my right, determinedly marching.
    ‘Stop limping, Elsie!’ said Mum.
    I stared down at my skinny legs. I pulled a face at my grey socks and brown Clarks lace-ups. ‘It’s these shoes,’ I said. ‘They’re too small now. They’re hurting my toes.’ I wanted new shoes – shiny black patent ones, or bright scarlet with a strap.
    Mum bent over and prodded my feet through the ugly brown leather. ‘Nonsense, you’ve got heaps of room.’
    ‘Couldn’t I have them anyway? I hate these. They’re boy’s shoes!’
    Nan had found them for a shilling at a jumble sale, barely worn and my size, worst luck.
    ‘What do you think I am, made of money?’ said Mum, standing up and giving me a tug to hurry me along.
    ‘They all tease me at school because I’ve got boy’s shoes,’ I said mournfully.
    ‘Stop that whining,’ said Mum. ‘I’ve told you, you’ve got to learn to stand up for yourself. Now come on, or we’ll miss the bus. And
stop
limping, it’s driving me mad. You’re walking along all lopsided.’
    ‘My leg aches.’
    ‘Oh, you’re full of aches. Headaches, belly aches, all-over aches. Just pull yourself together. And you’re to give Nanny a big smile when you see her. I don’t want her worrying, it’ll only make her worse,’ said Mum.
    I scurried along beside her, making such an effort to walk properly that I couldn’t do it naturally at all, and developed kipper feet.
    ‘Mum, look, I’m like Charlie Chaplin,’ I said, waddling, and doffing an imaginary bowler hat.
    Nan always laughed at my imitations and said I was a proper caution. Mum just looked irritated.
    ‘Stop messing about this instant or I’ll send you back home and visit Nanny by myself,’ she said, in that snippy tone that meant she wasn’t joking.
    I walked left-right, left-right, like a little soldier, though my leg ached worse than ever. We got the bus to the hospital –
two
buses – and although I usually thought a bus ride was a treat and liked chatting to the conductor, this time I kept quiet and nibbled my lip anxiously the whole way.
    ‘For heaven’s sake, Elsie, leave that lip alone! You’re making it bleed. No one will ever want to kiss you if you’ve got chapped lips,’ said Mum.
    I decided I didn’t care and went on nibbling. I didn’t want anyone to kiss me, only Nan, and I knew she wouldn’t mind a chap or two.
    I was surprised by the sanatorium. It wasn’t like a hospital at all – more like a bleak holiday camp, but without any rides. It took us ages to find Nan, but eventually we were directed to a kind of Nissen hut at the end of the complex.
    I was suddenly frightened, and hung back, clinging to Mum, even though I was so desperate to see Nan.
    ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ Mum said, but her own palm was clammy too. She wrinkled her nose. ‘I hate the smell of hospitals.’
    There were twelve ladies lying down flat in bed, six on one side and six the other. I thought they’d all be quite old like Nanny, but most were Mum’s age or even younger. They all looked very white, as pale as their pillows, and huddled shivering beneath their thin blankets. It was hard to tell whether they were awake or asleep – or even dead.
    ‘Nan?’ I quavered.
    ‘Blooming heck, it’s like an iceberg in here,’ said Mum, peering around at all the wide-open windows. ‘There’s Nanny, right at the end. You smile at her and say hello nicely like a good girl.’
    I don’t think I’d have recognized Nan if Mum hadn’t pointed her out. She was lying on her back like all the others, and her mouth was sagging open. She didn’t have her false teeth in. I averted my eyes quickly, knowing Nan would hate me seeing her empty mouth.
    ‘Come on, chin up,’ Mum hissed behind me. ‘There now, Mother, I’ve brought our Elsie to see you. What are they trying to do, freeze you to death?’
    ‘It’s meant to be good for us – fresh air,’ said Nan, her voice oddly muffled. ‘But all