Girl with Secrets: a coming of age war story and family saga full of romance, mystery and danger in London’s East End.

by Carol Rivers

  ‘Can I skip in the garden?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Put on your coat and scarf,’ said Mother. ‘And hat too.’

  Daisy dressed warmly and arranged her new brush and comb set on her dressing table. In the chill winter’s air she skipped on the lawn and swung herself to and fro on the apple tree swing. The seat was a little lopsided but if she swung herself high enough, she could almost reach out in summer and touch the tree’s fruit-laden branches.

  Boredom soon set in and she ran to the window, hoping to attract Mother and Aunt Betty’s attention. But she stopped still when she saw inside. Two figures were huddled together; Aunt Betty was weeping and Mother was trying to comfort her.

  Daisy played in the garden until her fingers and toes went blue. Going back indoors would be a mistake; she knew Mother and Aunt Betty were not to be disturbed.

  Instead, she paced out six feet six inches, the area described in this morning’s letter. What would a tiny steel house look like? Would it be warm? Could you cook in it? More importantly, could you play in it?

  Eventually she opened the front door and gave a slight cough. The whispering continued. Had Aunt Betty and Uncle Ed received a letter from the government too? Were they to be a given a shelter for their garden? Was this the reason for tears?

  Daisy was about to set foot on the first stair, when she heard Aunt Betty’s pleading, tear-filled voice. ‘Flo, what am I to do? I feel torn apart.’

  ‘You’re a married woman, Betty. You love Ed, surely?’

  ‘I - I did, I do! But I was very young when we married. Things change.’

  ‘Ed is a wonderful husband,’ insisted Mother. ‘He worships the ground you walk on.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s it,’ said Aunt Betty on a sigh. ‘Living up to an ideal is no fun at all.’

  ‘Is that what you want - fun?’ Mother questioned.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Aunt Betty sadly. ‘Five years of working hard at the factory. Of trying to conceive and hoping that any day I’d find myself pregnant. Pretending that we didn’t care and putting all our energies into the business. Making sure we were solvent. Balancing the figures. Every day consumed with ambition to succeed, making the business our child. Protecting it, feeding it, giving it our all. And forgetting ourselves. Ed and I, we’ve lost touch. And when - when Neville came along, I just knew that I couldn’t go on pretending. At least, not to myself. And I suppose, not to Ed.’

  Daisy had vowed never to eavesdrop again. And she wasn’t - intentionally. She was trying to get up to her bedroom. Forcing herself to the next stair, she refused to listen.

  Stair three, four, five, six …

  Each stair echoed with a sob or sigh from Aunt Betty. In the safety of her room, she flung herself on the bed. Covering her head with the pillow she tried to forget. But nothing could shut out the words of Aunt Betty. Or her mother’s shocked response. And worse, so much worse, was that this hateful secret, the one that she had been hoping would disappear like the genii did in the lamp, just like you saw on the films.

  Yet this was real life and not make believe.

  Chapter 15

  It was not Aunt Betty but Peter Brady who occupied Daisy’s thoughts on the first day of term. It was likely their arch-enemy was laying in wait somewhere as she walked to school with Bobby. Peter would be with his gang; he was too much of a coward to confront them on his own. He was the kind of bully who needed an audience.

  ‘Stay with Sally,’ Bobby instructed as they walked hurriedly towards the school gates. ‘We’ve been lucky so far but he could be anywhere. Don’t go wandering off on your own.’

  Daisy had no intention of being caught unchaperoned. As soon as she saw Sally in the playground, she joined her. ‘Did you have a good Christmas?’

  ‘Me dad’s rolling drunk again,’ said Sally with a grin. ‘We had more knees-ups than a birthday in a brothel. What did you do?’

  ‘I got the flu.’

  ‘What, you silly cow!’

  ‘I thought I’d eaten too many sweets from Aunt Pat’s Saturday Assortment.’

  ‘So you missed all the excitement?’

  Daisy nodded dismally.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Sally said as they lined up for class.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll tell you in assembly.’

  Daisy couldn’t see Peter as they filed into the hall, but his horrible mates had caused a fuss, refusing to stop swearing and cussing at the younger children. The teachers, Daisy suspected, were turning a blind eye after the attack on Mr Potter.

  ‘So?’ Daisy urged, as they sat on their seats and waited for Miss Bailey to appear.

  ’Peter’s not coming back to school - ever.’

  ‘What!’ Daisy couldn’t believe this was true.

  ‘The word is, he got in trouble with the rozzers at Christmas.’

  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Nicking at the market and clobbering a copper who tried to nab him.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Daisy asked doubtfully.

  ‘Dad heard it from the blokes at work,’ Sally insisted. ‘Like I told you, the Bradys have a reputation second to none. Peter is following in his old man’s footsteps they say. Odds on they’ll stick him in one of them bad boys’ homes.’

  ‘What’s a bad boys’ home?’

  ‘Dad says it’s like a prison, but for kids. The boys are thrashed until their bums bleed. They take the birch to ‘em.’

  ‘What’s the birch?’

  ‘Blimey, Daisy, you don’t know much for a posh kid.’ Sally sighed impatiently. ‘It’s like lots of sharp wood used as a whip. The poor sods almost bleed to death.’

  Daisy shuddered. ‘That’s dreadful.’

  ‘It’s the only way to knock any sense in their heads.’

  Daisy digested this frightful snippet as they sung the school hymn, All People That On Earth do Dwell. Could it really be true that Peter would be tortured in such a way? He might be the school bully and hated by just about everyone, but such a fate was far worse even than the flu or painful boils and red spots.

  Miss Bailey welcomed the school back but Daisy couldn’t concentrate. She wanted to ask Bobby if he’d heard about Peter. Or could it be that Mr Watson had been falsely informed?

  At break time, she met Bobby in the playground. ’Have you heard about Peter?’

  ‘Everyone has.’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘I’ve a feeling he’ll show up.’

  ‘Oh, no he won’t,’ Daisy blurted, ‘because Aunt Pat said - ‘ She stopped, remembering that Bobby disapproved of the fortune cards, pronouncing them weird. She’d have to make do with telling Sally whose mother read the tea leaves.

  Bobby frowned suspiciously. ‘What’s Aunt Pat got to do with this? And it’s not called a bad boys’ home,’ he corrected. ‘It’s a reformatory.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘How many more questions have you got?’ He stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘See you at four.’

  Daisy knew she should be relieved at Peter’s absence but couldn’t forget Sally’s vivid descriptions of the Birch.

  ‘Bet your brother’s pleased about Peter,’ said Sally when she joined Daisy. ‘Thought you’d have a big smile on your face.’

  Daisy glanced round to make sure they were alone. ‘My Aunt Pat reads the cards. They predicted a big thing was about to happen.’

  Sally gasped. ‘Never!’

  Daisy had a stab of conscience. ‘But I didn’t wish The Birch on Peter. Just the flu or boils. You don’t think I made it come true, do you?’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s not right to know the future.’

  ‘Why not? The leaves are never wrong for my mum.’ Sally narrowed her eyes. ‘Did the cards say anything about me?’

  Daisy considered tweaking the message to include Sally, just to please her friend, but decided against it. A tweaking might do something even more terrible to the already alarming events the cards had rightl
y predicted.

  For the month of February Daisy enjoyed her new freedom. The boys at school who had lost their leader were kept in line by the teachers and she and Sally played skipping or hop scotch without interruption. Even Bobby returned to his good-humoured self.

  Though Daisy felt one of the predictions had come true, the second was still missing. A new old friend had not appeared. Daisy wasn’t disappointed. She felt she had tempted fate and still had guilty pangs. Was Peter’s bloody birching her doing? After all, she had wished him ill - and with vengeance.

  It was on a soft spring day in early March when Matt delivered his shocking news.

  ‘The RAF take delivery of more than four hundred aircraft each month,’ he informed the family at breakfast.

  ‘Rightly so,’ agreed Pops, ‘since Germany already has almost five thousand up its sleeve.’

  ‘Our airforce is the best in the world,’ agreed Matt glancing warily at Mother. ’They are asking for reserve and volunteer flyers. Chaps like me who are the right age and want to sign up.’

  ‘The airforce can ask all they like,’ replied Mother harshly, and Daisy watched her face tighten. ‘Your responsibilities are here at the factory, Matt.’

  ‘Mother, my heart is set on flying,’ Matt insisted. ‘I’m determined to fly.’

  Daisy stared at her older brother and saw the determination in his eyes.

  ’Son, with the best will in the world, I applaud your decision,’ coaxed Pops, ‘but there will be a right time to enlist. No hurry just yet.’

  ‘Pops, there is no getting out of this war,’ said Matt firmly. ‘Hitler has entered Prague. Who is next to fall?’

  Daisy jumped as Mother quickly left the table.

  ‘Will there really be a war?’ Bobby asked quietly.

  ‘There is every chance of it, brother,’ Matt affirmed.

  Daisy studied her father. His gaze was downcast. Tiny lines ran out from his eyes and disappeared into his whiskers. Was there now a scattering of grey in those delicate little hairs?

  ‘I’d better go to your mother,’ he said and left the table too. Daisy saw his breakfast was untouched. The question of war hung in the air, as real and immovable as if the war had already started.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Good morning.’ Miss Bailey stood at the podium in the assembly hall. ‘I have an announcement to make. It concerns each and every one of us, for after today, our lives might never be quite the same again. Your teachers and I want you to know how proud we are of you. We know that you will support your family and friends through whatever might befall our country in the days ahead.’

  To Daisy it seemed impossible that even the news of Peter Brady leaving school had been overshadowed by unimaginable worldwide events. Pops had read from his newspaper each morning. Britain, France and Poland, so Pops explained, were planning to sign a pact together to form an alliance.

  At school, Miss Bailey had pinned a map of the world to the wall in the assembly hall. Mr Gulliver had pinned little flags on the countries concerned; green for the pact allies, red for the enemy. Each week the red flags seemed to be getting closer to the British Isles.

  Daisy felt Sally wriggle beside her. ‘Me dad reckons we won’t be at school much longer,’ she whispered. ‘All the kids are being evacuated.’

  Daisy glanced at her friend doubtfully.

  ‘It’s Hitler, ain’t it?’ persisted Sally. ‘He’s joining up with this Italian bloke to conquer the world. They’ll be over here soon. It’s the docks they’re after.’

  Before Daisy could respond, Miss Bailey spoke again. ’You are all aware that Spain’s civil war has ended. Those with relatives involved in that dreadful conflict will be relieved to hear of this development.’ Miss Bailey folded her notes and braced her shoulders under her woollen grey twin set. ‘However, since then our Prime Minister has offered Poland and France our assistance.’ Miss Bailey cleared her throat. ‘Today we are informed that preparations for a war with Germany are in motion. The army, airforce and navy are being doubled in strength. I am quite certain that members of your families will volunteer. Some have already done so and are waiting for their orders. This will affect many of your families, which in turn, will affect you. Many of you will be evacuated to safer regions.’

  Sally whispered, ‘Told you so!’

  Daisy frowned. ‘But Pops wouldn’t send me away.’

  Sally shrugged. ’Me dad says he’s sending me to the country. Wish we could go together.’

  Daisy stared at her friend. What did this mean? Did Pops and Mother know about evacuation?

  ‘The board of school governors,’ Miss Bailey explained, ‘are putting into place certain safety measures. Sadly, our school will close as from today.’

  ‘Crikey,’ muttered Sally. ‘That’s quick!’

  ‘But where will we go to learn our lessons?’

  ‘That’s just it,’ said Sally. ‘There ain’t nowhere on the island.’

  ‘We have written to your parents to explain,’ broke in Miss Bailey above the sudden chattering. ‘I should like all those pupils who know either one or both of your parents are at home, to leave the assembly hall quietly, gather your things and say good bye to your friends. Those who have no one at home to care for them will go to the exercise room, where Mr Gulliver and Mrs Jones are waiting and will be with you until four o’clock. Please stay calm and join the queue in an orderly line.’

  Daisy watched her friends as they began hurrying to the doors, jostling and pushing. Could school really be shutting down?

  Sally grabbed her arm. ‘Don’t just sit there, we’ve got to go.’

  ‘But - ‘

  ‘There ain’t no buts, Daisy. This is it. Dunno when we’ll see each other again.’

  Daisy looked at her friend. Sally had been right all along. Or, at least, Mr Watson had been right.

  Sally threw her arms around Daisy’s neck. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Remember the school anthem. Britain never will be slaves, right?’

  Daisy held back the tears as she watched her friend leave. It seemed the whole school was disappearing before her eyes. Even Miss Bailey had vanished.

  Suddenly Bobby was at her side.

  ‘Sally’s being evacuated,’ she complained. ‘I don’t know when I’ll see her again.’

  ‘Get your coat,’ said Bobby unsympathetically. ‘We have to meet Sammy at the gates.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He’s in trouble.’

  ‘But shouldn’t we tell Miss Bailey?’

  Bobby rolled his eyes. ‘You really don’t get it do you? No one cares about Sammy, only us. Now hurry up, or else I’ll go on my own.’

  Chapter 17

  ‘Uncle Leo’s Riley is parked outside our house,’ said Bobby as they arrived in Poplar Park Row. ‘And Aunty Betty’s bicycle is by the wall.’

  ‘I’m going,’ said Sammy, taking a backward step.

  ‘No,’ insisted Bobby, catching hold of his arm. ‘I told you, Pops will sort something out. He always does. But first we need to get you cleaned up.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s a party,’ said Daisy hopefully, averting her eyes from the sad picture of a bedraggled and wounded Sammy. She didn’t have a strong stomach for bruises and bloody noses.

  Bobby rolled his eyes. ‘Trust you to think of a party!’

  ‘Well, why shouldn’t there be?’

  ‘You’ll soon find out,’ Bobby warned. ‘Now listen. We’ll go down the hall to the kitchen first so Sammy can wash.’

  Daisy didn’t like Bobby’s idea at all. Why shouldn’t there be an occasion to celebrate? Perhaps Uncle Leo had sold one of his photographs for lots of money? Or even more wonderful, perhaps Pops and Uncle Ed had discovered their new valve? Whatever it was, she was eager to find out, yet Bobby only seemed concerned with Sammy.

  ‘Come on,’ said Bobby tugging Sammy’s arm. ‘You can sit in the kitchen. No one will see you.’

  Still Sammy didn’t move
. Daisy was even more convinced this wasn’t a good idea. He’d followed them home with hunched shoulders, every now and then stopping and gasping for breath. There was even blood in his thin black hair - which was very thin indeed.

  Bobby smiled at his friend. ‘Daisy stay with Sammy. I’ll go in and make sure the living room door’s closed.’

  ’Mother will give you something to eat, I’m sure,’ she said cheerfully when Bobby had gone. ‘You must be hungry.’

  Sammy continued to stare, as if the mention of food meant nothing at all. Which was surprising to Daisy as he was so thin.

  ‘Perhaps my aunt has brought pastries,’ Daisy tried again. ‘Do you like rock cakes?’

  There was no reply as Sammy edged away from her.

  Did he even know what rock cakes were, Daisy wondered? So she stood in silence until Bobby returned.

  ‘The coast’s clear,’ he announced breathlessly. ‘You go first, Daisy.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because I said so. Now hurry up.’

  Reluctantly Daisy made her way into the house. She heard familiar voices coming from the living room and considered an immediate detour. But fearing Bobby’s wrath, she continued to the kitchen.

  All was quiet here, though there was definitely evidence of a meeting. Miss Ayling’s teacups, saucers and side plates were piled haphazardly on the draining board. The teapot was missing its cosy, suggesting there was no tea left to keep warm. Had the party ended she wondered?

  Bobby soon followed, pulling Sammy with him. ‘I need a cloth,’ he told her. ‘Do you know where the medicines are kept?’

  Daisy recoiled. Was she expected to remove the congealed blood from Sammy’s nose?

  ‘Oh, don’t look like that,’ Bobby snapped. ‘I’ll find them myself.’

  Her brother gently drew the dirty raincoat from his friend’s shoulders. Carefully, he lifted Sammy’s shirt.

  Daisy had never fainted before. She didn’t even know what a faint was. Once she had fallen from the barn roof in Wattcombe and hit her head as she’d landed on the grass. But even then, she hadn’t fainted. The closest she’d got to a faint, she supposed, was when she’d had flu. But the sight of Sammy’s horribly marked thin chest, with stripes of still sticky blood oozing from the vicious cuts, caused her to reach out to the table and steady herself.