Cousins at War by Doris Davidson

their deaths and ashamed at what she had been thinking. As Joe had said at the time, the shop was Donnie’s livelihood, and he couldn’t give it up.
    When Olive went home at teatime, she glared at her mother, ‘It made me sick the way you and Gracie fussed over Queenie. I know her mother and father are dead, but she’s not a small
child, she’s fifteen. Hardly anyone spoke to me. You’d think I had the plague.’
    ‘If you were nicer to people, they would be nicer to you,’ Hetty barked, uncharacteristically sharp with her daughter, ‘but you sat with a face like a fiddle. Why can you not
be like Patsy?’
    ‘I’m tired hearing what a good girl Patsy is. Patsy never complains about anything. Patsy always does what she’s told. Patsy helps her mother in the house. If you ask me,
Patsy’s too good to be true, and she doesn’t like me any more than I like her.’
    Hetty heaved a prolonged sigh. ‘Don’t you have any friends to go out with? That might stop you being so self-centred.’
    ‘The girls I know are only interested in flirting with the boys they meet.’
    ‘Well, what’s wrong with that? I flirted with dozens of boys before I met your dad, and it didn’t do me any harm.’
    ‘I’m waiting for Neil.’
    A deep frown creased her mother’s brow. ‘Don’t be stupid. Neil’s your cousin.’
    Saying nothing more, Olive went upstairs to her own room. She hadn’t meant to let her mother know how she felt about Neil, but she was missing him so much that it hurt sometimes just to
think about him. But even if he didn’t write to her, he must be missing her, too. He must be!

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    Cricklewood, 18 February, 1941
    Dear Mum,
    I’m sorry to have been so long in writing again, and for not writing much last time. The Technical College is really interesting, a whole course just about vehicles.
     We’re billeted in a private house, two to a room, and I share with Alf Melville, remember I told you about him, he’s my mate from Elgin. The food’s not bad, better than we got
     in the mess at Chilwell, and I’ll be getting as fat as a pig if I’m not careful. I’ve had to shift the top two buttons of my trousers already. It’s either the food or
     not having any route marches to do.
    Hope you and Dad are keeping well, and give my love to the girls. It was good to see you all, but it will be a while before I get home again.
    Your loving son, Neil
    PS Just got your letter about Donnie and Helene, and I can’t get over them being killed like that. I wish I’d had time to go and see them, for it wouldn’t
     have been far from here, and I was thinking about it. Please tell Queenie how sorry I am. It must be awful for her, losing all her folk, and she’s such a nice kid. N.
    After Joe had read the letter, Gracie said, ‘I don’t like him being down there. I’ve heard there’s prostitutes walking about the streets of London, and
what . . .’
    ‘Prostitutes walk about the streets of Aberdeen, as well. There’s Snuffy Ivy and . . .’
    ‘Och, her.’ With an irritated movement of her hand, Gracie dismissed the well-known lady whose nasal manner of speaking had earned her the nickname. ‘She keeps to the harbour
area, and doesn’t bother ordinary men, but supposing one of them down in London accosts Neil?’
    Her husband gave a great roar of laughter. ‘I wish I was there with him, then, that’s all I can say.’
    Tutting in exasperation, Gracie snapped, ‘Could you just be serious for once? He’s too young to . . .’
    ‘He’ll likely be kept too busy at that college to meet any girls, prostitutes or otherwise.’
    She looked a little happier, but took the final word. ‘I hope so, as long as he never gets tempted into doing things he shouldn’t even be thinking about at his age.’
    23 February, 1941
    Dear Neil,
    I hope you don’t mind me still writing to you, though I think you could force yourself to answer sometimes. What kind of things do you learn down there? I