by Carol Rivers
Chapter 42
‘Stand back from the door,’ shouted one of the men whose help Bobby had enlisted. ‘We’re shifting the debris.’
Daisy huddled with her mother at the back of the shelter, listening to the rumbles, bangs and bawled instructions of the men outside. There were many strange voices, though she couldn’t hear Bobby’s. But perhaps he too, had been made to stand clear.
After what seemed an eternity, but could not have been more than an hour, the door opened with a great crack. Light flooded the shelter along with an oppressive smell of burning. Swirling motes of dust skittered around as a group of men peered in.
‘All clear! Come on out now, missus. Take me hand an I’ll help yer.’
They were hoisted up the three brick steps and landed in the open air.
‘Mother! Daisy!’ Bobby hurled himself towards them. ‘I couldn’t find the warden, but this is a rescue squad helping to get people out of their bombed houses.’
Daisy wanted to tell Bobby that he was the best brother in the world, but decided a hug would do for now.
‘You all right, missus?’ enquired a man with a peaked cap and very few teeth.
‘Yes, yes, I think so. My daughter and I are unharmed, except for being a little shaken.’
‘You’re lucky,’ he replied. ‘Yer ‘ouse is still in one piece. An upstairs window’s gorn and so has the chimney but it don’t seem too bad otherwise. I’ve told one of me men to have a quick scout round and see if it’s safe inside.’
‘Are there any other houses damaged in Poplar Park Row?’
‘Some’s taken a bashing,’ said the man, pushing back his cap, revealing his heavily sweating face. ‘But we ain’t had no casualties.’ He pointed to the roof. ‘Looks like when yer chimney took a tumble it brought down the window beneaf’ wiv’ it.’
Daisy could hardly bear to look. ‘That’s my bedroom.’
‘Count yourself lucky, ducks,’ said the man unsympathetically. ‘It was one ‘ell of a night. Buggers was after the docks and got what they wanted.’
‘Do you know which factories were damaged?’ Mother asked.
‘No, missus. There’s fire crews fighting with the flames and rescue squads digging their way through the rubble on the docks. Gawd knows how many poor sods they’ll find underneath.’
Mother nodded silently.
‘You won’t ‘ave no gas or electrics indoors,’ he warned. ‘All the mains is turned off. But you might get a dribble of water from yer kitchen tap.’ He ran his hand over the shelter door. ‘I’ll get a bloke to fix this lock. Any other damage inside the ‘ut?’
‘No, the shelter stood up to the bombing. And we had a little refreshment to see us through.’
‘In that case, we’ll get on. Word of warning ‘afore I go. Kit out yer Anderson good and proper with supplies, ‘cos they reckon the buggers will be over again ternight. And t’morra. And Gawd knows for how long after. Gov’ment thinks ‘itler’s gonna drop more incendiaries so’s the Luftwaffe can see their way along the river. Then the perishers will follow up with ‘igh explosives. Tell you for nothin’, we’re gonna be lucky to turn the tables this time.’
‘Hurry,’ said Mother as the rescue party left. ‘Bring the basket, Daisy. If the man’s right, we shall need more than lemonade and a scone tonight.’
Daisy did as she was told, however she would rather be anywhere else than cooped up again in that small, smelly, dark space.
Chapter 43
Inside the house the walls and floors were covered in a thick, clinging dust that had seeped into the upholstery and curtains. Even the ornaments on the mantel and the family photos in their frames were tarnished.
Daisy watched Mother trail despondently from one room to another, her hands clenched together in dismay. ‘However will I clean all this?’
‘We’ll help,’ said Bobby.
‘A mess is to be expected after such an attack,’ sighed Mother, lifting a cushion and quickly replacing it as a thick cloud of dust rose in the air. She inspected the windows, tracing her finger tips over the ugly brown tape she had stuck across them. ’Thank goodness the windows didn’t blow out and the tape held.’
Daisy was about to go up to her room, when Mother shook her head. ‘We’ll use the privy first and wash our hands and faces.’
After a visit to the privy which Daisy enjoyed immensely, then a quick wash in the kitchen sink, she followed Mother and Bobby into the hall.
‘Be careful where you tread,’ warned Mother as they ascended the stairs. ‘Though we’ve been told the house is safe, we must be vigilant. Especially in your room Daisy, where we can expect to find the most damage - ’ Mother’s voice tailed off as they came to a halt on the landing and stared into her bedroom.
The wind was whistling through the gaping hole in the wall where the window had once been, spreading dust and soot everywhere. Daisy thought it looked as though her room had been ransacked and the burglar had thrown grey paint after him, staining her lovely bedspread and clean white pillows.
‘Poor Daisy,’ said Mother with a sniff and gently patted her shoulder. ‘There’s nothing we can do at the moment. But tomorrow we’ll move your things to the spare room. For now, collect what you need for the shelter.’
Daisy could only stand and stare. The impact of the blown-out window frame had carved a ragged edge to the bricks where one of the blackout curtains had moulded itself into the mortar. Her chest of drawers had toppled on its side spilling all her pretty trinkets across the grimy floor. Aunt Betty’s comb and brush set was covered in the same sooty grey dust.
Daisy’s blue eyes were tear-filled as Bobby came and stood by her. ‘It probably looks worse than it is,’ he dismissed.
‘You wouldn’t say that if it was your room.’
‘I’ll ask Mr Cook to fix it.’
Daisy frowned. ‘Who’s Mr Cook?’
‘The man who mended the shelter door. He told me where he lives if we need help.’
Daisy bent down and tried to rub away the dirt from the bluebirds and blossoms on the handle of her brush. ‘Nothing will clean this. The bristles are full of soot. I’ll never be able to use it again.’
‘Stop moaning,’ said Bobby impatiently. ‘Now, come on. You lift one end of the chest and I’ll lift the other.’
Surprisingly, she found her clothes inside her drawers were unmarked. At least she had clean knickers to wear.
‘That’s everything,’ said Mother later, brushing her untidy hair from her eyes as they stood in the shelter. ‘It doesn’t look so bad now, even quite homely.’
Daisy doubtfully studied their handiwork. What worried her most was the small cupboard that she and Bobby had ferried out from the larder. The wire mesh over its front was sufficient to keep out insects, but would it keep out the dust? After all, the food stored inside it was more important than anything else. At that very moment her tummy grumbled.
Mother smiled. ‘I think we deserve a good meal. I’ve prepared a small snack indoors, corned beef and a little cheese, with buttered bread. Not very appetising, but sustaining.’
‘But have we enough food in the shelter?’ Daisy anxiously considered the cupboard again. She remembered all too well how hungry and thirsty she’d been last night.
‘We have sandwiches, a cold pie, biscuits, a few groceries, a flask of tea and water,’ listed Mother. ‘I’ve stowed half a dozen candles and a box of matches in a tin along with a few pieces of china and cutlery - and, oh yes, the stone hot water bottle and kettle are on the table beside the armchair.’ She nodded to the bunks now resplendent with two mattresses carried down from their beds and a variety of linen. ‘I think we’ll have enough blankets and pillows but … ‘ she hesitated, ‘what is it that I’ve forgotten?’
‘A battery for the torch,‘ said Bobby.
‘Well remembered, dear. I’ll see to that at once. Daisy, are you wearing your thickest jumper under that coat?’
‘Yes, but I’m too hot.’
‘You
won’t be tonight. Remember how cold it was? We need our warmest clothes, underwear, socks and boots. And, oh yes, mustn’t forget gas masks.’
‘I’ve hung them on the back wall pegs,’ said Bobby efficiently. ‘Pops left tin hats too but they look awfully big for us.’
‘I didn’t even notice them,’ said Mother, shaking her head. ‘It was all so dark and sudden.‘ Her voice broke a little. ‘Tonight we’ll be prepared. As soon as we hear the siren … ’ She paused and taking Daisy’s hand and Bobby’s, drew them close. ‘My better judgement tells me you should be in Wattcombe with Grandma and Aunt Pat. It really is the sensible thing to do.’
‘Would you come with us?’ asked Bobby.
Mother sighed and shook her head. ‘Not immediately.’
‘When, then?’ said Daisy.
‘My dears, I really don’t know. Someone has to stay here and take care of the house. It’s our home and I refuse to be threatened out of it.’
‘Then we want to stay too,’ said Bobby staunchly. ‘Don’t we Daisy?’
Daisy nodded, for however unsavoury the ugly old tin house was and however terrifying the nightly ordeal of the Luftwaffe attacks, they didn’t want to leave Mother.
Chapter 44
That night the Luftwaffe swept over the city with renewed vigour, releasing even more bombs than the night before. All night long the pounding continued until the early hours of the morning, when at last, dawn broke.
With eyes unaccustomed to daylight, Daisy crawled from her bunk and let herself into the garden. She stood, peering up at the hazy red blush in the morning sky.
‘London is burning,’ Mother said, joining her. ‘What a dreadful sight.’
Bobby followed. ‘The guttering’s come away from the eaves of our house,’ he said, squinting through tired eyes. ‘And the drainpipe’s broken.’
‘The least of our troubles,’ sighed Mother. ‘When you think of what others have suffered.’
‘I’m starving,’ said Daisy as they trudged over the dusty brown grass. ‘And it will be lovely to have a bath.’
‘We have to save water,’ Bobby reminded her as they approached the kitchen door. ‘The sewers and pipes are what the Luftwaffe are after.’
‘How do you know?’ Daisy suspiciously studied her brother whose pale face was streaked with dirt and his hair stood on end.
‘All the news is on the wireless,’ he retorted. ‘But you never bother to listen.’
‘Why should I?’ she huffed. ‘I’d only hear it over again from you.’
‘Children, please!’ Mother put up her hands. ‘Our tempers are short but this is no time to bicker.’ She wiped the smudges of dirt on her face with her handkerchief and pushed back her hair that had fallen loose from its hair grips. ‘Let’s start the day with good intentions.’ She opened the kitchen door cautiously. ‘Seems to be all right … so today, after breakfast, we’ll help to carry your things into the spare room, Daisy. Then, afterwards, we can top and tail in the bathroom.’
‘What have we got for breakfast?’ Daisy looked hopefully at the larder door as they went in.
Mother smiled. ‘If one thing in this world never changes, Daisy, it’s your appetite.’
Just after they had begun to carry Daisy’s belongings to the spare room, there was a knock at the door.
‘Flo, are you there? It’s me.’
Daisy rushed to the landing and looked over the banister. ‘Aunt Betty, oh, Aunt Betty!’ She flew down the stairs and fell into her aunt’s open arms.
‘Daisy, darling,’ whispered her aunt, hugging her so tight that Daisy could barely breathe. ‘Are you all right? Where’s Bobby and your mother?’
‘Upstairs. Oh, Aunt Betty, it was awful,’ blurted Daisy as she rushed to explain everything that had happened. ‘We were collecting the apples when we heard the planes and there was no time to take anything into the shelter, except the basket. Which was lucky because in it we had a bottle of lemonade and a scone, but the lemonade made us even more thirsty. And Bobby hadn’t come home and Mother was terribly worried. And in the morning, guess what happened? There was a huge hole in the house and it was my bedroom window and - ‘
‘Betty!’ Mother came running down the stairs with Bobby. ‘Oh Betty, it’s so good to see you. So very, very good.’ They all grasped one another, holding back tears, as everyone tried to speak at once, until Daisy caught sight of a vague reflection in the hall mirror.
She untangled herself to clean the glass with the palm of her hand. They were all blanketed like Egyptian mummies in the wretched dust that, it seemed, was now part and parcel of everyday life. Aunt Betty’s smart blue overcoat was a shade of gunmetal grey and her brown, glossy hair was a dull, untidy mop. Mother was speckled with dirt and soot and so was Bobby who had managed an assortment of interesting black stripes and squiggles over his shirt and trousers. Her own un-plaited hair hung about her head and shoulders in lifeless, lank strands, while her face, despite the swift wash in the bathroom sink reminded her of one of the monkeys she’d once seen at the zoo. Two white patches for her eyes and under her nose, a small moustache was imprinted on her top lip.
‘Is that me?’ she gasped into the mirror.
Bobby pulled a face. ‘Horrible!’
Daisy giggled. Aunt Betty laughed. Mother shook her head, unable to hide her amusement. ‘We might not look our best - but oh, oh - ‘ Suddenly she put her hands over her eyes. Aunt Betty held her close and smoothed her hair behind her ears.
‘Come now, Flo. We’ll face this together. Nothing matters more than that.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just that so much has happened,’ Mother murmured as she tried to regain control. ‘Our lovely house - well, it’s ruined!‘
Aunt Betty smiled. ‘No need for apologies, Flo. This continual dirt and dust is very upsetting.’
Daisy nodded in agreement. ‘I wanted to be upset too. But I couldn’t because I needed to sit on the lavatory first.’
Bobby gave a hoot of laughter and Mother bent close to hug her. ‘Thank you, Daisy,’ she whispered. ‘You make me feel so much better.’
Chapter 45
‘Come along, we’ll clean the kitchen, then have tea,’ said Aunt Betty, taking charge. ‘Daisy, I’ve brought a flask in my bicycle basket and some cheese sandwiches and pickles from the WVS canteen. Perhaps you could get them for me? Bobby, be a dear and pump my tyres. They’re a bit soft and I have to cycle back to Aldgate for my shift tonight.’
‘Aldgate?’ said Mother as Bobby left. ‘What on earth do you have to do there?’
Daisy returned with the flask and food parcel just as Aunt Betty was explaining. ‘I’m in digs at the moment as I’m more central in Aldgate. I decided to close the house with Ed gone.’
‘But Betty, what about all your things? Your personal possessions and clothes?’
‘I packed a suitcase and took it with me to Aldgate. In fact, since we have uniforms supplied I need very little of anything except underwear and stockings.’ Aunt Betty continued to wipe down the surfaces. ‘Life is very different for me now. My days are certainly far more interesting than sitting in the office and typing. Talking of which, I cycled by the factory on my way here and saw a girl I knew from the typing pool. She told me the caretaker management have installed new equipment, retaining only a handful of women to work the machines.’
‘Is Mrs Hayes still there?’ Daisy asked hopefully.
‘I’m afraid there’s no canteen now, Daisy. It’s just too dangerous to operate. If a bomb, God forbid, should drop there, the gas would explode and cause untold harm. These days most of the workers bring packed lunches and a thermos filled with tea.’
Daisy thought of the happy times she had gone with Pops to the factory and helped Mrs Hayes to make tea for all the staff. Were those days never to come again?
‘This war is the cause of so many changes,’ sighed Mother sadly. ‘Oh, Betty, I do admire you. Your work in the voluntary group must be very rewarding - but dangerous.’
&
nbsp; ’There’s no time to think of the danger, Flo. We’re given our orders at the beginning of our shifts and the day flies by. Sometimes it’s helping the wardens, sometimes the hospitals, sometimes transport, and those who find themselves homeless.’ She gave a long sigh. ‘This morning I helped to dig out a family of six from a pile of debris and smouldering bricks. The oldest member was a grandfather of eighty, the youngest an infant in arms. They’d lost all their precious photos and personal effects and were left without a stick of furniture to their name, let alone a roof over their heads. Fortunately they escaped serious physical harm.’
Daisy was still thinking of Mrs Hayes and the never-to-be-seen-again tea trolley when Aunt Betty’s heartrending description caused her to imagine what it would be like if one of the Luftwaffe bombs fell on their house. What if all their possessions and photographs went up in smoke like the family that her aunt had helped? The prospect was very sobering indeed.
‘I suppose you’ve heard nothing from Ed or Minnie?’ Mother asked after a while.
‘I telephoned Minnie yesterday,’ said Aunt Betty with the first hint of a smile. ‘She told me to tell you they’re safe. Because of living in their apartment they have no Anderson, but she refuses to use public shelters. She insists she hasn’t the right fashions to befit such an occasion! Instead, they’ve decamped to Leo’s studio which is on the ground floor and leads to a cellar.’
‘Minnie can be so stubborn,’ sighed Mother. ‘I hope she knows what she’s doing.’
Aunt Betty shrugged. ‘You know Minnie when she has a bee in her bonnet. Not even the Luftwaffe will change her mind.’ She reached into her pocket. ‘Now for the good news. I’ve heard from Ed - sort of.’ She grinned ruefully and passed a postcard to Mother who carefully studied the image of St Paul’s Cathedral on one side, before reading aloud from the other.
