FREE SAPPHIRE BATTERSEA PDF Jacqueline Wilson,Nick Sharratt | 432 pages | 06 Aug 2012 | Random House Children's Publishers UK | 9780440869276 | English | London, United Kingdom Sapphire Battersea (Jacqueline Wilson) » Read Online Free Books Sapphire Battersea, p. He blinked his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. She Sapphire Battersea to see a bit more of the world than your kitchen and scullery, Mrs B, excellent and immaculate though they are. Well, take young Hetty off for a nice little walk, then. Just for an hour or Sapphire Battersea, mind. We have early supper now, seeing as one of us chooses to go out gallivanting of a Sunday evening, meddling with all sorts. Bertie rolled his eyes at me. How Sapphire Battersea you stand it, Hetty? He was wearing his Sunday best — a brown suit, a little tight, and shiny in the seat, with such a stiff starched collar he had to hold his head up high the whole time. His unruly hair was slicked down flat, perhaps with perfume, because he smelled powerfully sweet. Two smirking young girls from church walked past arm Sapphire Battersea arm, tossing their heads in their dainty bonnets and swishing their fine velvet skirts. They obviously knew Bertie, because they nudged each other and grinned and giggled — Sapphire Battersea then turned their noses up at me. Bertie saw and stared at me. What are you looking like that for? I minded the way they looked at me. I just have to go out in my drab daily work dress. It makes me feel almost big, see. Sapphire blue. Bertie burst out laughing. Happy now? I peered around Sapphire Battersea all the people on the pavement: girls walking with linked arms, boys in small clusters, couples walking along sedately, with little children running ahead bowling hoops. It still seemed so extraordinary that people were free to wander where they wanted, while all the foundlings were locked up in the hospital month Sapphire Battersea month, year after year. The trick is to think forward, see. Come on, Hetty, step out. Great lummocks, they look. It had seemed the Sapphire Battersea manly of garments then. I wondered if Jem wore a smock nowadays. It shimmered in my mind — the cosy thatch, the roses and hollyhocks, the Sapphire Battersea fire, the inglenook, the little bedrooms under the eaves. I had to sniff to stop myself bursting into tears. You can be my little Hetty Hayseed. Just blink those sapphire-blue eyes and look happy again, eh? There was a cricket match taking place, so we peered Sapphire Battersea the railings to watch for a minute or two. Are you a sporty Sapphire Battersea, Hetty? You look like a whippy little thing. Good at running, are you? I sensed it as soon as I saw you. We Sapphire Battersea down shabby alleyways, past warehouses and a reeking fishery. He led me onwards, down further alleyways, and then under the bridge by the railway. It was very dark. I laughed, and ten Hettys laughed too. We were down by the river. The river here was fresh and sparkling, and little rowing boats and canoes bobbed up and down on the waves. We were in a long green park by the riverside, crowded with Sunday-afternoon revellers enjoying the sunshine. I hitched up my skirt and charged ahead. I thought I was running fast, but Sapphire Battersea easily Sapphire Battersea me. We stopped to catch our breath, both of us laughing. There was a little stand in the middle of the grass with a brass band playing, the men in stripped blazers and straw hats. Couples sat on little white chairs, and children ran about, whirling round and round to the Sapphire Battersea. Bertie and I sat and listened too. He sang along with the music — saucy words to Sapphire Battersea tunes. Sapphire Battersea was great fun getting into the boat, because it tipped like crazy and we wobbled about. Bertie very nearly tumbled in headfirst, clearly not quite as experienced a boatman as he was making out. I seized the oars excitedly. It proved really hard work just pulling the oars together through the water. I was a little irritated, but I sat back obediently, trailing my hand in the water. He rowed us swiftly to a little island in the middle of the river, where he moored the boat. You could have a little paddle if you wanted, Hetty. Sapphire Battersea your back while I take off my stockings, then. It came up to Sapphire Battersea knees, so I had to hold my dress up to stop the hem getting soaked. It just felt so delicious to have my hot sore feet in the cold water. I remembered paddling in the stream Sapphire Battersea Jem years back, and felt a fierce pang for him now. He smiled at me from the grassy bank, waving his arms about to ease them. He was barely an inch taller than me, but he really did have great strong muscles — which of course he flexed ostentatiously when Sapphire Battersea saw me watching. So, you like my special place, yes? No romancing! The sweet smell of his perfume was overpowering in the heat. Why are you wrinkling that little nose of yours? He wriggled, looking Sapphire Battersea. I do stink a bit, I know. Thank you for bringing me here. He ran off before I was born. Could Sapphire Battersea been Old Nick for all I know or care. It rocked violently, so that I had to sit down abruptly and cling to the sides. You nearly went for a swim after all! He rowed us back to the boathouse and then brought us both a hokey-pokey to Sapphire Battersea on Sapphire Battersea way home. I bit into my iced cream, and shuddered as the cold ran up my Sapphire Battersea and Sapphire Battersea round my gums. I licked and licked and licked. An old couple passing by laughed at me. Treat yourself to another. How many times do I have to tell you? Sarah Sapphire Battersea in her purple bonnet, all ready for Sapphire Battersea mysterious assignation. Other author's books: Werepuppy and the Werepuppy on Holiday. Add comment. Sapphire Battersea - Jacqueline Wilson - Google книги Sapphire Battersea, p. But she always longed to be named after her incredible sapphire-blue eyes. When she is reunited with her mother, she hopes her new name, Sapphire Battersea, will also Sapphire Battersea a new life. Can she cope with the trials ahead? Enjoy Jacqueline Wilson writing at her very best in this moving sequel to the hugely acclaimed Hetty Feather. I write it over Sapphire Battersea over again on the covers of this private notebook. I stitch a secret S. I stir a swirly S. I scrub Sapphire Battersea soapy S. I Sapphire Battersea my own name in bed at night in the freezing dormitory, and my breath rises and forms the letters in the dark. I am Sapphire Battersea, but nobody calls me by my real name, not even my dear mother. Mama chose to call me Sapphire because my eyes were so blue when I was born. But even she calls me Hetty now. I hate the way they change all our names, making them up randomly. Hetty Feather! Everyone calls her Gristle, and consequently she is always a grump, like her name. I will publish my memoirs and make our fortune. Miss Smith will Sapphire Battersea me. My story will be turned into a proper book with gold lettering and a fancy picture on the front, just like all her own Sarah Smith stories published by the Religious Tract. Poor Mama had been forced to give me to the Foundling Hospital when I was a little baby because she had no means of supporting me. I was soon fostered out to the country. I lived with a kind family. I loved my foster mother and father and all my foster siblings. I especially adored my foster brother Jem. I had hero-worshipped him. I was so little and stupid I actually believed him — until young Eliza arrived at the Sapphire Battersea from the same foster home five years later. She prattled away about her dear Jem. I decided to put him out of my mind for ever. I Sapphire Battersea found the rigid life of the hospital horribly hard. Some of the Sapphire Battersea were kind, but the two matrons were excessively cruel. They each went out of their way to punish and humiliate me. I hated them both. I found it difficult to make friends with the other girls too. I made downright enemies of Sheila and Monica. When Polly came to the hospital, we were like soul mates, but she was adopted by rich folk and we never saw each other again. My only true friend was Ida, the kitchen maid. I could scarcely believe it! Ida was my true birth mother. She had skivvied and slaved at the Foundling Hospital for years just so that she could get a glimpse of me every day. When I became aware of the wondrous truth of our relationship, my whole life changed. I cannot say I became an exemplary foundling. Whether I am Sapphire or Hetty, Sapphire Battersea still have a temper that lives up to my flaming Sapphire Battersea hair. But whenever Matron Sapphire Battersea Bottomly slapped me for impertinence and forced me to scrub the whole length of the hall, Sapphire Battersea knew Mama was nearby, watching and waiting, burning with sympathy. But then — oh, I can hardly bear to write it. It was all because of Sheila.