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24

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English

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2013

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24

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English

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Ebooks

2013

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It's during World War II, and Martin has been evacuated to the country. But he hates it there, so he goes back home to London. But London is in flames - and Martin's home has been destroyed by a bomb. He has nowhere to go. So Martin decides to head back to the country. Well that was the plan, anyway . Recently republished as a new edition, this book is one of the Shades 2.0 series. This book is perfect for reluctant teens who still want an exciting, unpatronising story that is relevant to their interests and concerns, but who don't want to read a longer novel. With a length of only 6,000 words, and filled with drama, this story will appeal to all reluctant teen readers.
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Date de parution

01 octobre 2013

EAN13

9781781274521

Langue

English

“ At last I got to Mint Street, then turned into Harrow Street.
The school was still there.
The houses opposite weren’t.
I just stood there frozen. Nothing but a pile of bricks and broken window frames, and one crazy wall with an upstairs fireplace looking like it had just been cleaned. No number 18. And no Aunt Josie.
And Aunt Josie had never believed in shelters. ”

CONTENTS

Title Page 1 Call me Auntie Minnie 2 Harrow Street 3 The Shelter 4 Back on the Train 5 An Incident at Wimbledon 6 Chickens 7 Hilda Will Know 8 A House Full of Aunts More Shades 2.0 titles Copyright
ONE
Call me Auntie Minnie
‘Call me Auntie Minnie.’
Lots of people would have said I’d fallen on my feet. Here I was in a cottage in the country, my own room, a feather bed to sleep on and bacon and eggs for breakfast. Back in London I would have been lying awake listening for bombs to drop, and the only food had been on the ration.
I lay in bed and listened to the sounds outside. Auntie Minnie was feeding the chickens. She made a clucking sound with her mouth. When the chickens heard it, they all rushed out of their little shed to get to the grub first. Auntie Minnie was a bit like an old mother hen herself – and I was one of her chickens.

Auntie Minnie and Uncle Trevor were always up at half-past five. Goodness knows why. Uncle Trevor was retired so he had no work to do, though he helped out on the farm up the road now the men were being called up. They were both a bit old to be my real aunt and uncle. They told me they’d never had kids of their own. And that was the trouble. They couldn’t do enough for me, but I was used to doing things for myself.
‘Go on, eat up your egg, Martin! They’re from our own chickens, you know.’ (I did know. They woke me up every morning.)
‘I’m just darning your socks, Martin …’
‘I know you’re big enough to bath yourself, Martin, but mind that jug of hot water.’
‘Uncle Trevor’ll take you fishing tomorrow, Martin.’
‘Let me comb your hair. You can’t go out looking like a scarecrow.’
‘Go and kiss your Auntie Minnie ni-night.’
They were both having the time of their lives fussing over me. I felt I was being wrapped in a big blanket and it was slowly choking me to death.

The other evacuees thought I was mad when I grumbled, even though they sniggered when Auntie Minnie walked me down to the village school every morning. I wasn’t going to get lost as there was only one road in the whole place, but she liked showing me off.
My mate Charlie had come with me from Southwark.
‘You’ve got the best billet in the place,’ he said. ‘Where I’m living this geezer comes in drunk and smashes the place up every Friday night. I’ll swap you right now!’
Sometimes I was tempted to agree to it. OK, I knew that while I was comfortable and well-fed, people back in London were going through hell.
But somehow I had to get back there.

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