Northern Girl by Fadette Marie Marcelle Cripps

the whole thing, said, ‘Well, that’s exactly what I’m concerned about, Madeleine!’
    ‘Oh, come on, Papa, I’m almost eighteen. You can’t protect me for ever, and I need to have some fun before I go mad! It’s been so dull around here lately. We’ve got to celebrate our freedom, haven’t we? No more Nazis to order us around, no more shutters closed because of the blackout. We can laugh if we feel like it now, we can sing …’ She started dancing round the kitchen.
    ‘All right, all right,’ Papa interrupted. ‘You’ve made your point.’ He glanced at Maman, but she just shrugged and said nothing, her expression saying that she was tired of making decisions, and more than happy to leave this one to him. Papa continued to look at Maman while talking to Madeleine, ‘I had planned on all of us going together to have some fun , as you put it, at the weekend, but as usual you can’t wait.’
    Madeleine was quiet for a moment. She looked pleadingly from Papa to her sisters and back again, knowing he always melted at the sight of her big brown eyes, and, true to form, he relented. ‘But,’ he added warningly, ‘if I allow you to go, you must stay with your sisters the whole time.’
    ‘I will, I promise. Thank you, Papa! I’ll go and change my clothes.’ She immediately ran up the stairs, looking back at her sisters and calling, ‘Well, come on, you two, what are you waiting for?’
    Before they could move, Papa grabbed Martine’s sleeve, holding her back. He whispered, ‘Look, there are British troops billeted just a few miles away from the village, waiting to be demobilized, and some of them will be at the fair. After all, what else is there for them to do around here, unless they go into Calais? So I’m trusting you girls to behave sensibly, and keep a tight hold on Madeleine.’
    Simone, her eyes lighting up at the thought of troops, replied, ‘Of course we’ll stick together, Papa. Don’t worry. After all, Martine and I looked after ourselves for five years and never came to any harm!’ She chose to ignore Martine’s disdainful expression.
    Papa, his hands outstretched and palms towards the ceiling, shrugged again, saying, ‘I know! But I still can’t help thinking of you as my little girls.’
    ‘Oh, Papa!’ Martine and Simone both laughed.
    He looked a little hurt as he said, ‘You can laugh. But one day, when you have your own children, you’ll understand what a worry they are. And I don’t need to tell you the war hasn’t helped at all. It’s made all of us over-protective.’
    The two girls kissed him on the cheek, and Martine said, ‘Papa, we’re not laughing at you, not really. And, yes, we’ll stick together at the fair. You don’t need to worry about us. The war is over now, and I’m sure wecan deal with a few soldiers.’ Catching Simone’s eye, she added meaningfully, ‘ If we need to, that is!’
    Papa looked at his daughters: Martine with her striking auburn hair and classic good looks, and Simone, the only blonde in the family, her usual pretty and frivolous self. He felt compelled to labour his point. ‘Well, I hope so, because you are the kind of girls who get noticed. Especially by soldiers who’ve been confined to barracks for months.’ He studied them appreciatively. ‘Just look at you! And as for Madeleine, so beautiful but still so childish, can you blame me for being worried?’
    At times like this, he regretted the way the whole family had cosseted Madeleine far more than was good for her. But then, she was the baby of the family. He was always going to fret about his daughters, but he also knew that he had to let them go, and this was as good a time as any to show his faith in them. So he patted them playfully, saying, ‘Off with the pair of you, then. Go get Madeleine and have some fun.’
    They ran upstairs to change out of their travelling clothes, and had barely finished before Madeleine dragged them out of the door, afraid her parents might