Life after life

11 February 1926

‘OW! WHAT D’YA do that for?’ Howie yelled, rubbing his cheek where Ursula had punched him in a very unladylike way.

‘You have one hell of a right cross for a little girl,’ Howie said, almost admiringly. He made another grab for her which she jinked as neatly as a cat. As she did so, she spotted Teddy’s ball, lurking deep within the recesses of a cotoneaster. A well-aimed kick connected with Howie’s shin and gave her enough time to rescue the ball from the clutches of the reluctant bush.

‘I just wanted a kiss,’ Howie said, sounding absurdly hurt. ‘It wasn’t like I was trying to rape you or anything.’ The brutal word hung in the chilly air. Ursula might have blushed, should have blushed at the word but she felt a certain possession of it. She sensed it was what boys like Howie did to girls like Ursula. All girls, especially those celebrating their sixteenth birthdays, had to be cautious when walking through the dark, wild wood. Or, in this case, the shrubbery at the bottom of Fox Corner’s garden. Howie rewarded her by looking somewhat shamefaced.

‘Howie!’ they heard Maurice shouting. ‘Leaving without you, chum!’

‘You had better go,’ Ursula said. A small triumph for her new womanhood.

‘I found your ball,’ she said to Teddy.

‘Excellent,’ Teddy said. ‘Thank you. Shall we have more of your birthday cake?’