“I suppose not!” I say to Bernadette, sniffing. “Exactly!” says Bernadette smugly. “So what are you doing?” “Writing!” I snap. “Writing what?” asks Bernadette. “Writing…writing a story”, I say. “Oh really?” Bernadette doesn’t sound like she believes me. “Yes!” I snap. “Now you know! Leave me alone!” Bernadette considers. “Hmm…let me read this story of yours!” she says. “Then – and only then – will I leave.” Oh no. She’s trapped me. What am I supposed to do now? “It’s…it’s private”, I say. “None of your business.” Bernadette narrows her eyes. “Private?” she says. “Private! Did you ever hear the likes!” And with that, she flounces off. I roll my eyes. How I hate Bernadette! I go out into the hall. The bag for post is there by the stairs. I stuff Dolly’s letter in there. Yes! Mission accomplished! I ran back into my bedroom and went to bed, feeling happy with myself.

A few days later, I rush down to see if there’s a letter from Dolly. There’s none! Ann, one of the maids, hurries past with the laundry. “Come along now Polly – you don’t want to be late for breakfast!” she said in her high posh voice. Mother isn’t in the dining room when i go in. “Where’s Mother?” I ask Father. Father stops stirring his lemon tea. His face goes white. “Your mother isn’t very well”, he says. “Oh dear!” says Bernadette sympathetically. “Poor, poor Mother. May I see her?” “No, dear”, Father said. “She’s…she’s not well enough for visitors.” This scares me a bit. Mother’s not well enough for visitors? Whatever’s the matter with her?

Mother stays in her room for the next week. We can’t hear her or see her at all. Father stays in his study and doesn’t come out. It’s very scary. I ask Ann what is wrong with Mother. Ann goes as red as a tomato. Eventually, she says quietly: “That’s for me to know and your to find out.” “Please tell me!” I beg. Suddenly Ann puts her face up close to mine. “Look!” she spits. “Do not ask me about your mother ever, ever again! Ever! Do you hear me, Polly? Never ever again!” And she marches off stoutly. I feel scared. I decide to write to Dolly.

“Dear Dolly,

Everything is so scary all off a sudden. Father says Mother is not well. Ill, even. They won’t let us visit her and we can’t ever see or even hear her. What could have happened? Nobody will tell us. They act like everything is normal. If you were here, Dolly, you’d know what to do. I wish you were here. Oh, how I wish you were here. I do miss you so.

Please write back and I’m sorry this letter was short,

Love Polly XXX”

PART 3 COMING SOON!