Tomorrow, When the War Began: Chapter 8 Summary & Analysis

They get to Corrie’s just before the sun comes up. Every muscle in Ellie’s body hurts, and as she peddles the bike, she sings random songs in her head. She can’t bring herself to think about the lawnmower and the soldiers. Ellie can’t wrap her head around the fact that she probably just killed three people and that Robyn and Lee are missing, so she keeps singing. At some point, Ellie realizes she is singing out loud, which is the only sound. No one speaks, and the decision to go to Corrie’s seems to have been made silently.

Ellie pulls up to Corrie’s porch and sits staring. For how long, she doesn’t know, but Homer gently guides her into the house. Inside, Corrie makes coffee, and Fiona sits staring. Homer wanders around, gathering food and silverware. The kitchen feels empty without Lee and Robyn, but they slowly begin talking, and they are soon all talking over one another. Homer stands up and throws a glass mug against the fireplace, shattering it. “Greek custom,” he says, telling them to speak one at a time.

Ellie takes a deep breath and tells Homer and Fiona what she saw at the Showground with Corrie and Kevin. As she gets to the part about the lawnmower and the soldiers, Ellie begins to have trouble. She just can’t believe she has killed people. She feels “permanently damaged,” like she will “never be normal again.” The soldiers exist in a weird place in Ellie’s mind. She never saw their faces and knows nothing about them—if they have families or if they are good people—so they don’t seem quite real to her. Still, Ellie feels “guilty and ashamed.”

As Ellie tells the lawnmower story, she nervously shreds a cereal box. Homer puts his hand on Ellie’s, calming her, and Corrie stands behind her, placing her arms around Ellie. Fiona sits stunned, unable to believe what she is hearing. Kevin stands alone and quiet. Homer tells them all not to feel bad. “This is war now,” he says, “and normal rules don’t apply.” As soon as those people invaded their country, Homer contends, they “tore up the rule book.” Now, whatever they have to do is fair game. Ellie thanks Homer; his words really do help.

Ellie asks Homer what happened on the way to Fiona’s, and Homer says it wasn’t as exciting as their experience. They did see some overturned police cruisers and ambulances, and the shops in town have clearly been looted. And blood, Fiona says, lots of blood. But no bodies. In town, Fi heard a noise, so they snuck into a public men’s room. They hid in the janitor’s closet in the back, and three soldiers came in to use the bathroom. Thankfully, they never checked the janitor’s closet. They spoke a language neither of them recognized, and while they don’t know what language it was, Homer says it definitely wasn’t Greek.

Once Homer and Fiona arrived at Fiona’s, Fiona saw a few people in the park nearby. Homer didn’t see them, but Fi swore they weren’t soldiers and yelled to them. The people stopped and talked amongst themselves and then ran away. Fi’s house was empty just like the rest, but, Homer says, he is sure they are all okay. They are being held at the Showground or somewhere else, and will be released when all of this over. On their way back to Robyn’s house to meet the others, they passed a house that had obviously been blown up. They hoped to see Robyn and Lee on the way, but they didn’t.

Homer says that he and Fiona heard the gunshots from the Showground, and they saw the fireworks display from the lawnmower. When his story is finished, he suggests they sleep. It isn’t likely that anyone will search all the houses in the district today, and they will probably start in town. Ellie agrees but suggests they plan an escape route just in case. Corrie says they should sleep in the gardening shed, that way someone can sit watch in the treehouse outside. Homer agrees, and then he says they should clean up the house so there isn’t any evidence that they were ever there. Ellie looks at Homer and can’t believe how he is changing. He hardly seems like the kid they all know, the one who can never be trusted.