Amy's Diary

by Maureen Lee

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

Set during the Second World War in Liverpool, this is a brand new story by Maureen Lee, written specially for the World Book Day Quick Reads promotion.
On 3rd September 1939, Amy Browning decided to start a diary. It was a momentous day for so many reasons: it was Amy's 18th birthday; her sister had just given birth; and on the radio it was announced that Great Britain was now at war. As the months went by, things began to change. The bombing started, and Amy's fears grew for her boyfriend Ian, in the RAF...

Release date: February 2, 2012

Publisher: Orion Publishing Group

Print pages: 128

Sample

Chapter One

My name is Amy Browning and today, 3 September 1939, is my eighteenth birthday. The day I decided to keep a diary.

A lot has happened already. At two o’clock this morning my sister Jean had her second baby, a boy this time. She’s going to call him Mickey. And just a few hours later it was announced on the wireless that Great Britain had gone to war with Germany.

It’s Sunday and I’d been to church with Mam and Dad so we didn’t know about the war until we got home. Germany, led by the dictator Adolf Hitler, had invaded Poland, something that Britain had warned it not to do.

It’s been a lovely sunny day. In Opal Street, Liverpool, where we live, everyone was standing outside, talking about the war. It wasn’t a surprise as we’d been expecting it for months. A brick air-raid shelter had been built at the end of our street. Once the sirens went, we’d have to go there until we heard the all-clear.

Mam shuddered and said to Dad, ‘Just imagine, Joe, sitting in that shelter with bombs falling all around us.’

‘Don’t worry, Mary,’ Dad said. ‘It won’t come to that.’

‘Then why have the government built shelters in nearly every street in Liverpool?’ Mam snapped. ‘And why has our Harry had to join the army?’ She burst into tears. ‘Now he’ll be sent away to fight. Oh, Joe, what if our Harry is killed?’

My older brother Harry is in an army camp not far away in Preston. I didn’t want to think about him being killed.

We went indoors and had our dinner, although nobody spoke much. When we’d finished, I said, ‘I’m going to see Sally. We might go for a walk.’

Sally Clarke is my best friend and she lives around the corner in Coral Street. We’d gone to the same school and been in the same class. Now we worked in the same place, in the steam room of Reed’s Dye Factory. We both hated it. I mean, who wants to spend their whole life pressing other people’s clothes? Well, I certainly don’t and neither does Sally.

Sally’s front door was open and her gran was sitting on the front step. Like those in Opal Street, the houses were terraced and didn’t have front gardens. There was just a little yard with an outside toilet at the back.

‘Sal’s upstairs,’ her gran said when she saw me, moving aside to let me in. The house was noisy. Very loud music was coming from the wireless and Sally’s mam and dad were yelling at each other in the kitchen. They had fights all the time.

‘Sal,’ I called as I ran upstairs.

Sally came out of her room. She was very pretty with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her five older sisters were all married and had left home.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said. ‘I’ve got you a present. Eh, what do you think about the war?’ Without waiting for me to answer, she went on, ‘Our Cora said there’s really good jobs going at Gregg’s, a factory in Speke where they make guns, bullets and tanks.’

I knew Britain was short of munitions. We were going to need a good deal more of them to fight a war with a well-equipped country like Germany. ‘What sort of jobs?’ I asked.

‘All different sorts. They pay really good wages, at least three or four pounds a week.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘The only bad thing about it is that it’s shift work. They work from six in the morning until two in the afternoon one week, and the next week it’s from two until ten o’clock at night.’

‘I wouldn’t mind that,’ I said. ‘Not for three or four pounds a week.’ Our wages at Reed’s were less than a pound each. ‘Could we get jobs at this place?’

‘Cora said all we’ve got to do is write them a letter and ask. She’s got the address. We could write tonight.’

We climbed over Sal’s gran to get out of the house. I told Sal about our Jean and the new baby. ‘It’s a boy and she’s calling him Mickey. Shall we go to the maternity hospital to see them?’

‘Okay.’ Sal linked my arm in hers. ‘You know, even though we’re at war with Germany, everything’s still exactly the same. The sun’s still shining, the birds are still in the sky.’ She looked at the seagulls flying above. ‘Later on, night will come just as it always does. Nothing’s changed.’

‘Why does there have to be a war anyway? So many people are going to be killed. You’d think people could settle arguments in a better way.’

Sally shrugged her shoulders. ‘My dad said it will all be over in six months, but Mam thinks it will take longer. It’s what they were fighting about. Whatever happens, I think it’s going to be exciting. Liverpool is one of the biggest ports in the world so there’ll be loads of sailors around. The dances will be full of them.’

Well, that was something to look forward to. Sally and I went dancing two or three times a week.

At the hospital, our Jean looked happy, but tired. Jean was several years older than me and we looked very alike. We both had the same brown curly hair and darker-brown eyes. Mam describes us as nice looking rather than pretty. Jean’s husband Dennis was away at sea and didn’t know he’d become a father again. Mickey, the baby, was huge and looked more than just a few hours old.

‘He weighed nine pounds three ounces,’ Jean announced. ‘He didn’t half hurt.’

I was shocked an. . .