Five Children on the Western Front

by Kate Saunders

  But then he said, ‘Hello,’ and smiled in his old way, and they saw that he hadn’t really changed at all. ‘It’s stupendous to be home – gosh, it smells so good after all those hospitals.’

  That was all it took to stop the strangeness; he was immediately smothered by brothers and sisters, hugging him, shaking his hand, slapping his shoulder.

  ‘Squirrel, is that you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s the genuine me – I managed to wangle some sick leave.’

  ‘Crikey, Lamb – have you grown again? And Edie, you feel like a giraffe!’

  They all went into the sitting room for tea. Robert kept a tight hold of Lilian’s arm, and let her guide him to the softest chair beside the fire. Edie had been afraid he would be sad, but he was calm and cheerful.

  ‘You see, I’m borrowing Lilian’s eyes,’ he told them all, ‘which is the next best thing to having my own.’

  ‘I don’t understand how you managed to stay together,’ Mother said ‘But I’m so glad you did.’

  ‘Well, the fact is—’ Lilian stopped, and her beaming face turned bright red.

  Robert squeezed her hand, laughing softly. ‘The fact is – I hope you’re sitting down, Mother – we got married.’

  There was an electric silence, like the intake of breath before a giant clap of thunder. And then Mother let out a great squeak of joy and flung her egg-and-cress sandwich into the air; it landed on the Lamb’s head, and the congratulations began with a burst of laughter. Father went to fetch the champagne he’d been saving for the end of the war, and came back with Mrs Field and Lizzie, so they could all toast the happy couple. Even Edie was allowed a small glass.

  ‘Here’s to Lilian,’ Father said, ‘my beautiful, brave new daughter – Bobs, old boy, make sure you deserve her.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Robert said.

  Lilian’s face was scarlet. ‘I’m so sorry we had to do it like this – and I’m afraid my parents and Arthur are about to descend on you, since they’ll have just got the rather mad telegram I sent them. It’s all been such a rush, I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels.’ She radiated happiness, and anyone could see that she was in love.

  Edie knocked back her champagne too fast, and the sour fizz on her tongue made her want to sneeze. She liked Lilian, and she was thrilled by the romance of the sudden wedding, but what were they going to do about the Psammead? How could Robert visit him, if Lilian was always glued to his side?

  They all sat down to have tea, and Lilian put plates and cups into Robert’s hands as if she’d been doing it for years.

  ‘Honestly, we would’ve told you if we’d time, but it all happened in a tearing hurry.’ She held out her left hand to show them her wedding ring. ‘For example, this came off a curtain.’

  ‘You’re wearing a curtain ring!’ Mother was shocked.

  ‘It’s a perfect fit – though it has turned my finger green.’ Lilian smiled down at her brass wedding ring. ‘I suppose I’ll have to take it off eventually.’

  ‘The hospital chaplain somehow found some flowers,’ Robert said. ‘My new wife whispered in my ear that they were orange rhododendrons and looked like mildewed mops – I really don’t know what I’d do without her running commentary.’

  ‘I do wish I’d been there!’ Mother sighed. ‘And I do wish you’d had a nicer wedding.’

  Robert and Lilian squeezed each other’s hands and laughed a private, lovers’ laugh.

  ‘It was a wonderful wedding,’ Lilian said. ‘I wouldn’t change a single thing. We did it on the ward, the day before yesterday. The bride looked dazzling in her shabby Red Cross uniform. They wheeled in a jangly old piano, and one of the other patients played the wedding march.’

  ‘And the very decent French chap in the next bed tore up his copy of Le Figaro to make confetti,’ Robert said. ‘He was my best man, too – and the ward sister acted as bridesmaid.’

  ‘You see, I wanted to come home with Bobs, and nobody would let me.’ Lilian put half a scone in Robert’s hand. ‘Jam ahoy, keep it rightside up. Anyway, one of the doctors said it would be different if we were married – whereupon Bobs said, “What about it, old bean?”

  ‘Not a very poetic proposal,’ Robert said. ‘I should’ve gone down on one knee.’

  ‘For once, I was lost for words,’ Lilian said. ‘And then I saw that it was the perfect solution to absolutely everything. Because it turns out that I’ve loved the old boy all my life.’

  *

  The homecoming tea turned into a wedding party. Lilian’s parents and brother arrived, and there were more tears and congratulations. Her mother was dismayed that Lilian had married a wounded man, but on the whole she was very relieved that she had married anybody at all.

  ‘I wish you both all the joy in the world, dear. I’m only sorry we couldn’t give you a proper wedding in a church.’

  ‘Thank you for sparing me all that expense,’ Lilian’s father said.

  ‘What are we going to do about the Psammead?’ Edie whispered to the Lamb. ‘Lilian never leaves Bobs alone for a single second!’

  ‘Oh, stop fussing about that sand fairy! There’s plenty of time.’ The Lamb was larking about with Winterbum over the fact that they were nearly brothers now, which was hilarious and also covered the embarrassment of all the wedding stuff. ‘We’ll get our chance to talk to Bobs when everyone’s gone.’

  ‘But how? I can’t make a sign to him behind Lilian’s back – he won’t be able to see! We’ll have to find a way of telling her.’

  Edie needn’t have worried. The first moment all the parents were out of the room, Lilian said, ‘Quick, before they come back – when can I meet the Psammead?’

  They all stared at her; it was so odd to hear her saying his name.

  ‘Crikey,’ Cyril said. ‘You told her!’

  ‘Naturally I told her,’ Robert said. ‘I can hardly keep a secret like that from my wife.’

  ‘But – dearest Lilian, did you believe it?’ Cyril was laughing softly. ‘Weren’t you the least bit suspicious that he was telling whoppers?’

  Lilian’s cheeks reddened. ‘I must admit, it sounded pretty far-fetched – but when he told me, I knew he wasn’t lying, and he obviously hadn’t lost his marbles.’

  ‘My trusting old bean,’ Robert said. ‘When you see him, you’ll have proof that my marbles are still a full set.’

  ‘I know you’ll like him.’ Edie took Lilian’s hand.

  ‘You mustn’t mind if he seems a bit rude at first.’ ‘You’re his favourite, according to Bobs,’ Lilian said, smiling. ‘You must’ve been worried when I turned up – but you can trust me to keep quiet about your family secret, and I won’t faint when I see him. I’m actually rather excited – I haven’t a spark of imagination and things like this never happen to me normally.’

  ‘I’ll run up and fetch him after tea.’ Edie’s last doubt vanished and she gave Lilian a hug. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’

  After tea, when the guests had gone, Edie dug the Psammead out of his sand bath and carried him to the large spare room, where Mother had put the newly-weds. Robert sat in the armchair beside the fire, Lilian sat on the rug at his feet. When she saw the odd little creature settle himself on top of the coal bucket, her mouth dropped open and her eyes were saucers of amazement.

  The Psammead’s eyes shot out on their long stalks. He looked hard at Lilian.

  ‘Bessa,’ he said. ‘That was her name! Bessa the Breaker, they called her, and she was a fine hand with a spear. This girl looks rather like her.’

  The sound of his dusty little voice coming from his furry pucker of a mouth made Lilian gasp. ‘Crikey!’

  ‘Hello, Psammead,’ Robert said, smiling. ‘This is Lilian. I don’t know what she’s like with a spear, but she’s pretty handy with everything else. She dragged me out of the jaws of death – and then she managed to convince me that I don’t look like an utter monster.’

  All the other children winced at this.

  ‘You
’re not a monster,’ Jane said. ‘It was a bit of a shock at first, but now you just look like – you.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Cyril said shakily, ‘you look absolutely fine – every bit as hideous as you’ve always been.’

  Edie leaned over to touch Robert’s arm. ‘This might sound silly, but the biggest shock was seeing you without your glasses.’

  Robert smiled. ‘I don’t need them nowadays. But I’ll wear them if you like.’

  ‘I think you look handsomer without them,’ Edie said.

  ‘I don’t want to hear any more talk about monsters,’ the Psammead said briskly. ‘I’ve seen plenty of monsters in my time, and you’re nothing like any of them. As Jane rightly observes, you look more or less like your old self, only somewhat battered – like a statue that’s been struck by lightning and then left outside in the rain for a few years.’

  ‘Psammead!’ Jane hissed.

  She was afraid Robert would be hurt by this, but it made him laugh. ‘Thanks, old boy.’

  ‘And so this is Lilian.’ The Psammead rolled his eyes over to her mesmerised face. ‘How do you do.’

  ‘H-h-how do—’ she could hardly get the words out.

  ‘My dear Robert, I congratulate you. Your wife looks like a nice girl.’

  ‘The very nicest in the world,’ Robert said. ‘When I got hit I thought I’d had it. But Lilian wouldn’t let me go.’

  ‘Yes, her love for you is very strong. I give you both my blessing, for what it’s worth these days. I’ve lost my ability to see clearly into the future, but I can tell you that you’ll have a lot of very NOISY children.’

  ‘Steady on!’ Lilian squeaked and clapped her hands over her mouth. Everyone laughed quietly.

  ‘Psammead, may I stroke you?’ Robert said.

  ‘You may – Lilian, kindly carry me to your husband.’

  ‘Gosh – me? Really? I’d simply love to pick you up!’ Very cautiously, Lilian leaned across the rug to pick up the Psammead, smiling when his paws clutched at her arm. ‘Oh, AREN’T you a darling?’

  Edie beamed at her. ‘I knew you’d love him.’

  ‘Psammead, old chap,’ Cyril said, ‘I wish I had your devastating way with girls.’

  Trying to look stern and dignified, but with a gratified smirk lingering around his mouth, the Psammead settled himself royally on Robert’s knee. Lilian guided Robert’s hand to the sand fairy’s back.

  ‘Now I feel properly at home,’ Robert said as he found the Psammead’s head and began to stroke him. ‘Gosh, this takes me back – we had some good old times, didn’t we?’

  The Psammead’s whiskers quivered. ‘The magic is upon me – it won’t be much, as I can only perform minor conjuring tricks these days.’ He puffed himself up to bursting point and held his breath. ‘There.’

  Edie was worried that they were all about to be whisked away somewhere crazy, and was relieved that nothing had changed. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Lilian, my dear,’ the Psammead said, ‘look at your wedding ring.’

  She held out her left hand, where her ring glinted richly in the firelight. ‘It’s different – what’s happened to it?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ the Psammead said modestly. ‘It’s still a curtain ring, I’m afraid, but I wished I could change it to the same fine metal as your heart – and it turned to real Roman gold. I only wish I could give you something better.’

  ‘It’s perfect!’ Lilian kissed the Psammead. ‘Thank you – and thank you all, for making me feel so welcome. I’ve never been so happy in my life – I’ve got an A1 husband, a solid gold curtain ring – and a new name that isn’t Winterbum!’

  Twenty-three

  WITNESSES AT A TRIBUNAL

  1917

  Letter from Captain C. Pemberton,

  Flanders, to ‘Sammy & Co’, January 1917

  Dear Bobs, Lilian, Jane, Lamb, Edie and ‘Sammy’,

  A very happy New Year to all of you. As you can see, my promotion’s come through. I’m now a Captain. I’m writing this in the picturesque setting of the officer’s club in a small town close behind the lines, where I’ve just had a very decent lunch. It’s the first free afternoon I’ve had since I came back. Most of my time recently has been spent penned up in a trench with my chaps – a tremendous bunch they are too. I wish the types who moan about the shortages at home could see the things my chaps endure without a word of complaint.

  Most of them were called up and thrown straight into the fighting, and they come from all sorts of backgrounds – one of my best men used to play the accordion at a tea shop in Cheam. Another is a giant of a blacksmith, who’s as brave as a lion, except that he’s terrified of rats – his girlish shrieks make us all laugh. He wants to shoot the little blighters, but that’s forbidden due to the shortage of bullets.

  Actually, the rats are a constant nuisance. A sergeant in my company tried bringing a cat up the line to fight them off. But the cat was heavily outnumbered and after two nights it was a nervous wreck – a motorcycle runner took it back to HQ in disgrace. Round one to the rodents.

  Sammy, we need a touch of your magic – could you send the Pied Piper of Hamelin? Or perhaps do something about the MUD? This is a horribly wet winter and absolutely everything is caked with the stuff, even the food.

  This is the time of year for taking stock and I can hardly believe it’s the third New Year of this endless war. It makes me think about the friends and comrades (especially good old Harper) I’ve lost since it all kicked off; so many that there’s never enough time to remember them properly. I sometimes imagine I can hear them calling out to me, begging not to be forgotten.

  People mustn’t ever forget, or allow it to happen again.

  God bless you all,

  Cyril

  ‘MY FOURTH YEAR HERE!’ remarked the Psammead. ‘This is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere since I got burned at the stake and went into hiding. And if anyone else says the war can’t go on forever, I’ll explode.’

  It was a cold, dark, sloppy afternoon at the tail end of January. Edie had finished school and the Lamb had a half day. Still in their coats, they were huddled under a moth-eaten blanket on the musty old sofa in the attic.

  ‘There was the Seven Years War,’ the Lamb said, ‘and the Hundred Years War. But I don’t see how this war can last for seven years – the world will simply run out of people.’

  ‘Lamb, you are gloomy today,’ the Psammead said. ‘Has something occurred at your school?’

  ‘We had bad news, that’s all. The chap who was head boy last year was killed in action, and we all liked him. Today would’ve been his nineteenth birthday.’

  The Psammead sighed. ‘More broken hearts – and for what? The sadness creeps into the air, until the entire landscape drips with it. I just WISH I could see something HAPPY come out of this wretched war!’

  An invisible hand tore the blanket off the Lamb and Edie.

  A half-second later it was broad daylight and they were floating on a soft breeze, above a noisy, teeming London street. Edie yelped and pulled her skirt over her knees.

  ‘This is more like it!’ The Lamb paddled his legs in the air. ‘Flying at last – even if we didn’t get the wings!’ He turned a somersault. ‘I was beginning to think all your wishes were damp squibs these days.’

  Edie reached out for the Psammead, who was floating beside her with his limbs folded, like a furry brown cushion. The sight of the city spread out beneath them – with dozens of church spires piercing the grey sky – took her breath away. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘I know!’ the Lamb shouted. ‘That wide road with all the trams is Fleet Street – where the newspapers are printed. Father’s office is near here.’

  ‘We’re losing height,’ the Psammead said. ‘Don’t squeeze me, Edie – Lamb, kindly stop fooling about.’

  ‘Not likely!’ The Lamb was twisting and diving through the air. ‘I’m having far too much fun!’

  ‘You’re not here to have fun. Come down at once.�
�

  ‘Oh, go and boil your head – I’ll come when I’m ready!’

  ‘Don’t you speak to him like that!’ Edie aimed a furious swipe at the Lamb’s leg as he flew past. ‘And stop spoiling his lesson!’

  ‘All right, keep your hair on.’

  They were, as the Psammead had said, slowly losing height, and Fleet Street seemed to be rising up around them – crammed with trams, buses, motor cars and hansom cabs, and crowds of people hovering at every doorway. Men in leather aprons wheeled huge rolls of paper on trolleys.

  Though it was a cold winter’s day, the air around them was warm and pleasant, and gently tugging them towards something.

  ‘It’s like being a kite on a piece of string.’ Edie had stopped worrying about people seeing up her skirt, and was starting to enjoy herself. ‘Wouldn’t they all be amazed if they COULD see us?’

  They floated above the pavement and were suddenly sucked into a narrow alley lined with crooked, sooty, old houses, where they stopped just above the offices of the New Citizen.

  ‘Good stuff, we can spy on Father,’ the Lamb said, ‘and then stagger him at dinner by telling him what he’s been up to!’

  Another puff of air wafted them down to the roof, where grubby-looking pigeons fluttered between the chimney pots. They dropped downwards, slowly enough for Edie to peer through the attic window and glimpse three small brown mice running in a circle on the dusty floor.

  The cobbled pavement was closer now. They finally stopped several feet above it, outside a large and dirty pair of windows on the first floor. This was Father’s office. He was standing beside the fireplace, talking to two people were sitting with their backs to the windows.

  ‘It’s Anthea and Ernie!’ Edie cried. ‘Oh, how nice!’

  ‘I’ve a horrible feeling this is another love scene,’ the Lamb said. ‘It’s all you ever show us these days.’

  ‘The young lovers are before the tribunal of the high priestess,’ the Psammead said. ‘The journey is playing out to its end!’