by Carol Rivers
His tall figure receded into the grey, swirling smoke and eventually he was gone. Vanished like a shadow in one of her dreams.
‘That boy’s a good ‘un,’ said Mr Cook as the van rattled into action. ‘Never laid eyes on him before, not till I asked for you at the desk. He was standing close by and must’ve heard me. When the lady said she’d seen someone pushing a wheelchair out the exit to the roof, we didn’t waste no time coming after you.’
Daisy wanted to pinch herself. Could all that had happened today be true? Had Peter Brady really intended to kill her?
‘Are the police really going to arrest the five - the fifth - ‘
‘Fifth columnists?’ chuckled Mr Cook. ‘I told a bit of a porky there. Wanted to see his face when he realised the game was up. Now, I might have to put me foot down sharp, so ‘ang on to yer ‘olly-ocks.’
Daisy did just that, gripping her seat tightly as she watched the never-ending streams of people coming from every direction. Some were weighed down with bags and suitcases. Others pushed barrows and carts spilling with personal effects. The elderly and lame were assisted by wardens or the Home Guard while the Red Cross manned medical posts or gave out refreshments.
A stomach-turning odour clogged the air as they travelled past fires that were still burning and firemen braved flames to retrieve casualties. Daisy felt sick to her soul as she witnessed the many lines of corpses on stretchers covered by blankets.
When, at last, they could make no headway, Mr Cook swung the vehicle round, hoping to find a path forward. But instead, they were met by more carnage; city streets dangerously strewn with glass and half-demolished buildings looming perilously above the rescue teams as weary survivors emerged from the ruins, searching for friends and family. The shapes of bodies under blankets, quite motionless. Lined together on stretchers, a dreadful bonding of lives that were alive no more.
The sad sights went on and on.
She thought of the quiet and peaceful countryside of Wattcombe and knew she should be grateful they were leaving London - of course she should! But even though the streets around them were in ruins, disfigured and maimed by war, this was her home and where she wanted to be … here with the people she loved.
Daisy jumped awake to the ear-piercing screech of a siren.
‘You alright, youngster?’ Mr Cook asked as he frowned intently through the windscreen. ‘You’ve had a bit of a kip, but the bloomin’ warning went off and woke you.’
‘Are we in Wattcombe yet?’ Daisy struggled up from the uncomfortable ball she had been curled in. As always when anxious, her head began to throb. She missed the reassurance of the hospital ward where Nurse Gwen had never been far away.
‘Wattcombe?’ Mr Cook repeated vaguely. ‘No, we ain’t going there. For the past hour we’ve been stuck in the biggest free-for-all I’ve ever witnessed. Roads are blocked or turn out to be dead-ends. I even lost me way once or twice and I’ve lived in London all me life. I was hoping to get you to safety before the blackout, but dusk caught up with us.’
Daisy peered out of her window, although it was difficult to see properly as the glass was filthy.
Mr Cook reached over to pat her hand. ‘You’re still bit confused, gel.’
Daisy felt rather dreamy and a little light-headed. Soothing the scar on her forehead, she mumbled, ‘Pops is making thermometers to fight in the war. But it’s supposed to be secret.’ Giving a yawn, she added, ‘You won’t tell will you?’
Mr Cook grinned. ‘Me lips are sealed.’
Daisy giggled. ‘And Aunt Minnie told a fib, just a white one, when Aunt Betty went to the cinema with Micky Wolf. The film was called Discovering England.’
‘You don’t say,’ replied Mr Cook bewilderedly.
‘And this is the biggest secret, so you mustn’t ever repeat it. But Joe Rawlings is colour blind. What do you think of that?’
‘Gawd only knows,’ replied Mr Cook hesitantly.
Daisy was about to add that, on second thoughts, she might have got some of the information muddled, when an almighty screech and burst of bright light was followed by a huge bang.
Mr Cook swung the wheel to one side and with a yell of ‘Duck!’ he threw himself across her.
Suddenly she remembered it wasn’t Joe Rawlings who was colour blind at all.
It was Mr Calder.
Ha
Chapter 58
‘Cor blimey, that was too close for comfort!’
‘What happened?’ Daisy looked around.
‘An incendiary landed behind them houses. Better check the wheels I think, as I felt the van hit something.’ He climbed out but soon returned. Opening her door he peered in. ‘Bloomin’ tyre is flat as a pancake. Your aunt’s house is just round the corner so we’ll go by Shanks’s pony.’ He pulled a rag from his tool box. ‘I’ve got a couple of helmets and a gas mask in the back. But that stink of cordite will get down your throat, so tie this bit of cloth over yer mouth. It’s a bit oily, but will do the trick.’
Daisy did as she was told and didn’t mind the smell of oil at all, but when Mr Cook helped her out, she almost overbalanced.
‘Just jelly legs,’ he assured her as he pushed a helmet on her head. ‘This titfer is too big for you but better than nothing. Hang on to me, gel.’
Daisy could barely see a thing, but they managed to pick their way forward. All the while an ominous drone seemed to be drawing closer.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get to safety in no time,’ Mr Cook assured her.
But no time seemed a very long time to Daisy. It was cold, foggy, noisy and very dark. She couldn’t really see where she was going and frequently tripped. At other times she was disoriented since an occasional glance to her right or left told her that she recognised no quaint shops like Mr Carson’s butchers or Peggy Altwhistle’s tea rooms. Neither was there a lane leading to the primary school and certainly no village hall. Most of the buildings were fatally damaged. Her heart dropped.
Daisy struggled on, but all the while the deep pulse of the planes was growing closer and the searchlights criss-crossed the sky above.
‘Nearly there,’ Mr Cook said, just as an ear-splitting bang made the ground shiver.
She tried to wipe away the sweat that was running from her forehead into her eyes but her hands were trembling too much. ‘Mr Cook,‘ she pleaded, ‘you’re going too fast.’
‘Sorry gel, I keep forgetting you’re only just out of ‘orspital. Let’s try it this way.’ With all the ease of a much younger man, he hoisted her over his shoulder.
When the explosion came, her ears seemed to burst with pain. Mr Cook appeared to be flying gracefully off his feet with her on his back just like Peter Pan who had flown over the silver ribbon of water, winding all the way up to Neverland.
Flowers … scented flowers … Gardenia!
‘Is that you, Aunt Minnie?’
‘Daisy!’ Aunt Minnie gasped and added in a shrill burst of excitement, ‘Flo! Come at once!’
There was a great deal of hustle and bustle around the comfortable chair Daisy found herself sitting in. The last she recalled was the strange sensation of riding on Mr Cook’s back as they flew over the river.
But now here was Aunt Minnie who was joined by Will and Mother and Bobby and then came Aunt Betty and finally Uncle Leo.
‘Daisy, oh Daisy!’ Mother cried. ‘I’ve been so worried.’
‘What happened?’
Mother squeezed her hand. ’Mr Cook carried you here to Aunt Betty’s house after the fall you both took.’
‘I remember now. The van had a puncture.’
‘Mr Cook’s gone to mend it.’
Daisy studied the faces around her. ’Did you know Tommy died?’
‘Who is Tommy?’ asked Mother.
‘He was Peter Brady’s little brother.’ She sniffed. ‘He had his operation but died. Then Peter tried to push me off the hospital roof and Sammy saved me.’
‘Who’s Sammy?’ Bobby wanted to know.
Dais
y giggled. ‘Sammy Berger of course. He works at the hospital now.’
Everyone looked puzzled. Mother touched her hot cheek. ‘You’re a little confused. You must be running a temperature.’
Aunt Minnie, Aunt Betty and Mother all examined her intently.
’What’s that on your head?’ Will asked. ‘It’s all red and crusty.’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Will,’ ordered Aunt Minnie and caught hold of his collar.
Mother gently lifted Daisy’s hair. ’What a horrid wound! No wonder you’re not yourself.’
‘I wish,’ said Will admiringly, ‘that I had a scar too.’
‘Shut up, Will,’ Bobby muttered and Will made a face.
At which point everyone looked up at the ceiling. The light pendant shook on its brown cord and a tremor went through the floorboards.
‘Jerry’s on his way!’ warned Uncle Leo.
Mother took Daisy’s arm and led her out to the shelter. Behind them, Daisy heard Uncle Leo shouting frantic instructions. The siren grew louder and everyone rushed to perform their tasks as the Luftwaffe approached.
Chapter 59
It was dark and damp inside the Anderson shelter, lit only by the weak, flickering flame of a candle. Daisy lay on the top bunk where Uncle Leo had lifted her. Below, Bobby and Will shared a bunk, while the adults huddled together on chairs. Wave upon wave of enemy planes thundered in the sky above and bursts of gunfire from the ack-ack stations were deafening. Every so often there was a lull.
‘I wonder what we’ll find when we go home,’ said Uncle Leo in one such pause. ‘When we drove away our street was being sealed off. We were told the Air Ministry had been targeted.’
‘Then you must stay here, Leo,’ insisted Aunt Betty.
‘Thanks Betty, perhaps we will. Although I hope my cameras are safe.’ Uncle Leo lit a cigarette. ‘I might need them when I’m given my orders.’
‘Do you really think they’ll call you up?’ said Mother.
Daisy listened carefully. Was Uncle Leo going away too, just like Pops and Uncle Ed?
‘I rather think they’ll need pictorial coverage for the news,’ he answered. ‘Though heaven knows, it will be tough to find anything positive.’
Uncle Leo’s voice was drowned by a rumble that soon became a roar. Dirt and dust fell in showers from the ceiling. Despite this, Daisy’s eyelids grew heavy. The boys had fallen asleep and it was only her whirling thoughts that kept her awake.
So much had happened. Only yesterday she’d discovered poor Tommy had died. Peter Brady had tried to kill her but Sammy Berger had saved her. She’d been driven across the city by Mr Cook. It was impossible not to witness the dreadful outcome of war. Homeless, frightened and injured, the people stumbled through chaos.
Bodies lay unmoving on stretchers …
Uncle Leo was right, the world was in turmoil.
Finally her eyes closed and Daisy fell asleep.
Dazzling daylight streamed through the open door of the shelter.
‘Have the planes gone?’ she asked Uncle Leo as he helped her down from the bunk.
‘All gone,’ he confirmed as he thrust back his hair and smiled. ‘Do you know a person called Tommy?’
Daisy nodded. ‘He was a little boy in hospital.’
‘During the night you shouted his name.’
Daisy knew she had dreamed again, but couldn’t remember exactly what. ‘Tommy needed an operation. But - ’ She tried not to feel sad.
‘I take it he didn’t make it?’ Uncle Leo squeezed her shoulder. ‘It’s hard to lose friends, and there’s no real remedy for grief. But you will make new friends, I promise. Now, breakfast is served, m’lady.’
She thought how kind and funny Uncle Leo was. He was very different to most uncles. He liked his hair the way it grew, all tangled and curly and probably didn’t ever use a comb. He never wore suits, but preferred baggy sweaters and ancient trousers. He even wore sandals in winter.
When they reached the kitchen door, a delicious smell wafted out. Mother was frying eggs on a Primus. Aunt Betty was making tea. Will and Bobby sat at the table gulping down their porridge. Perched in her high heels at the sink, Aunt Minnie washed the dishes.
Uncle Leo grabbed Aunt Minnie by the waist and tickled her ribs. When he smacked a kiss on her cheek, everyone laughed.
As weary and exhausted as they all were from the gruelling events of the night, the tension was broken. Daisy knew that no matter what happened in the days and weeks ahead, it was wonderful to have a family.
Chapter 60
Christmas Eve 1940
Wattcombe
Daisy was perched uncomfortably on a suitcase next to Will and Bobby in the rear of the car. The windows were all fogged because of the stream of nervous conversation that had not paused since leaving London. But it wouldn’t be long now before they reached Grandma’s and Aunt Pat’s cottage. Perhaps Christmas would not be as bleak as everyone forecast.
’Soon be there,’ confirmed Uncle Leo as he steered the car along the narrow country lane. ‘And we seemed to have avoided trouble.’
‘I’m still not sure that we’ve done right in making a surprise visit. You know how Mother and Pat like to be prepared,’ said Aunt Betty who sat next to Mother on the rear seat.
‘We’ve brought all our allowances with us,’ Aunt Minnie assured her. ‘We shan’t go hungry.’
‘I can’t believe that Matt is up there flying in those treacherous skies,’ said Mother distractedly. ‘It only seems like yesterday he was wearing shorts and kicking a ball around the garden with Nicky.’
‘Is Amelia still in Wales?’
‘I believe so, though we’ve heard nothing,’ replied Mother as Daisy shifted her position in order to hear more of the conversation. ‘The problem is, with wholesale evacuation no one knows where anyone is living these days. Half the island has gone away; very few shops remain open and I dread to think how much damage has been done to our house.’
‘We’ll all muck in to help you,’ Aunt Minnie promised.
’Look!’ exclaimed Daisy, drawing a circle with her finger in the misted window. ‘There’s Vesta!’
‘Who’s Vesta?’ demanded Will, wriggling beside her.
‘The bossiest cow of all,’ Daisy explained patiently. ‘All the herd have musical hall names, like Vesta and Marie and Harry Lauder - ‘
‘Harry is a man’s name,’ objected Will truculently.
‘So what!’ Daisy protested. ‘They all had good voices.’
‘Cows don’t sing,’ Will laughed, deliberately misunderstanding. ‘They only moo.’
‘No bickering now, children,’ interrupted Mother, so ending the debate. ‘I know you’ve been cooped up for ages but we’re almost there.’
Everyone shuffled a few inches forward on their seats. Daisy’s heart missed a beat. In just a few moments they would catch sight of the elderly thatched building with its glinting lattice windows and smoking chimney. Hidden amongst the trees of the thick wood where she and Bobby had played, its brittle bare branches would be alive with the noisy armies of rooks.
‘You were right to bring us all away for Christmas, darling,’ whispered Aunt Minnie in Uncle Leo’s ear. ‘And risk making the journey. Now we’re here I’m so glad we came.’
‘Me too,’ agreed Aunt Betty wistfully. ‘Though I do miss Ed. Especially now I’ve taken a couple of weeks leave from the WVS. I feel a bit of a shirker.’
‘You more than deserve a break,’ said Mother as she reached for Aunt Betty’s hand. ‘Ed would be proud of you.’
‘Do you think so?’ Aunt Betty sighed. ‘There’s so much I want to talk to him about. Things I have to say … ‘
Daisy saw a look pass between her mother and aunt that surely indicated their secret. But Mr Calder seemed like a ghost from the past as Aunt Betty’s eyes shone with sentimental tears.
For a moment everyone was very still as Uncle Leo drove slowly down the last few yards of the narrow lane.
Daisy pressed
her nose against the window. She couldn’t wait to explore the garden and fields again and hide in the wood. Perhaps they could walk to the shops and visit Mr and Mrs Webber’s farm again?
After all that had happened to London, the war seemed so very far away …
But the gasp that left everyone’s lips as the cottage came into view was not of joy or expectation. Rather of shock and dismay.
‘What!’ Exclaimed Uncle Leo, slamming his foot on the brake and stalling the engine.
Daisy stared wordlessly at the once pretty front garden that had been so luscious with wild flowers. Now a blackened and charred skeleton rose above the smouldering mountain of bricks and thatch which was all that was left of the cottage.
‘No!’ Mother cried, gripping the back of Uncle Leo’s seat with white knuckles. ‘Oh, no!’
‘I can’t believe it,’ gasped Aunt Betty. ‘The cottage has just … just disappeared.’
Everyone sat as if frozen, until Daisy saw Uncle Leo suddenly shake himself and putting his shoulder to the car door he thrust himself into the wintry air.
They all watched, unable to drag away their eyes. Even Will was silent, which to Daisy was far more disconcerting than Uncle Leo’s wild behaviour as he hopped across the path of still warm embers. Kicking pieces of charred wood aside, he finally vanished in the smoke that still wound up from the pyre, yelling out for Grandma and Aunt Pat.
‘It’s useless Leo,’ breathed Aunt Minnie as if he could hear her. ‘The cottage is gone.’
‘It can’t be!’ gasped Mother and covered her face with her hands. ‘I … I’m seeing things. This isn’t real - ‘
Daisy felt a kick of panic in her stomach as Mother’s tears broke through her trembling fingertips.
