I liked this a lot. Your descriptions of the grey, drab winter were so vivid, I could see the scenes in my head. Even the bright sparks of life within the two siblings have dulled to match the landscape of post-war England.

There were so many wonderful if haunting lines in here.

They are more than half-dead themselves, if death is the ending of a life. Edmund has started over so many times he's had to stop counting; no one had told him those chosen by cats also had nine lives. -- this one particular struck a chord. Well done!