By Jacqueline Wilson, Nick Sharratt
The ladies are again - yet they're no longer more than happy! Ellie's excellent romance with Russell is teetering at the rocks. Magda's misplaced her puppy and is desperately disenchanted (though the others didn't even be aware of she had a hamster!). And Nadine is uninterested with the opposite lecturing her concerning the hazards of assembly anyone on the web - she thinks her on-line boyfriend sounds impressive! Buckets of tears are wept and 1000's of tissues are sniffled into - can the women live to tell the tale those trying out instances?
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Additional resources for Girls in Tears
He was feeling encouraged by another development, too. Just that morning word had spread that Greece was sending a fleet of ships to evacuate refugees. Lefty looked out at the Aegean. Having lived on a mountain for twenty years, he’d never seen the sea before. Somewhere over the water was America and their cousin Sourmelina. He smelled the sea air, the warm bread, the antiseptic from his bandaged thumb, and then he saw her—Desdemona, sitting on the suitcase where he’d left her—and felt even happier.
And this certainty inspires him to say something he would never have said otherwise, something he would never even have thought. “We’re going to get out of here. ” “We should never have left. ” As the fire approaches, the doors of the French consulate open. A marine garrison forms two lines stretching across the quay to the harbor. The Tricolor descends. From the consulate’s doors people emerge, men in cream-colored suits and women in straw hats, walking arm in arm to a waiting launch. Over the Marines’ crossed rifles, Lefty sees fresh powder on the women’s faces, lit cigars in the men’s mouths.
Lefty and Desdemona have been in the city seven nights now. The smell of jasmine has turned to kerosene. Around the Armenian Quarter barricades have been erected. Turkish troops block the exits from the quay. But the wind remains blowing in the wrong direction. Around midnight, however, it shifts. It begins blowing southwesterly, that is, away from the Turkish heights and toward the harbor. In the blackness, torches gather. Three Turkish soldiers stand in a tailor shop. Their torches illuminate bolts of cloth and suits on hangers.
Girls in Tears by Jacqueline Wilson, Nick Sharratt