We got taken back to her home and found that we were staying on a farm. We guessed it was called 'Manor farm' (hence the distinctive white sign hanging at the gate entrance). Time passed quickly and we grew to love our foster mother and care for the animals properly. We love feeding them and washing the horses all day.
Altough we were encouraged to help out on the farm we never really got forced to help. We milk the cow, called Daisy.
Our happiness though was short-lived when a military man delivered a telegram (addressed to me) sating;
Dear miss Dover field,
It's my painful duty to inform you that your parents have been killed by a bomb attack. Your parents bodies have been buried in a poppy field where they can rest in peace.
Yours sincerely,
War office in London
YOU ARE READING
leaving home
Historical FictionEmily and Mary are in the middle of WW2. They are apprehensive about leaving home especially as Emily is 10 and Mary is 5. They are just ennoying life until a telegram arrives carring horrible news.
