by Carol Rivers
‘But, Minnie,’ protested Mother, ‘you’ll be taking an awful risk.’
‘I’m beyond caring, Flo,’ replied Aunt Minnie. ‘Bruton Mews is our home yet I’ve begun to feel as though we’ve no home at all. I’ve had enough of the way the Germans want to fight this war. If I’m going to fight, then it will be on my own terms from now on.’
A silence filled the kitchen as Uncle Leo shook his head doubtfully. ’But what if the police won’t allow us back?’
‘Please let’s try,’ begged Aunt Minnie. ‘I need to see our friends again; the couple who live above us and our neighbours next door. And eat pastries from the bakery and buy vegetables from the grocer. Let’s try to find some normality in our lives.’
Daisy saw little pearls of moisture shine in her aunt’s eyes and Will, scuffing his dirty nose with his cuff, said cheerfully, ‘I’m bored too. If we’re not allowed to play in Aunt Betty’s garden, I want to go home.’
Uncle Leo smiled. ‘I must admit, I miss the studio too. But first Betty, we’ll help clean up.’
Aunt Betty shook her head. ’Now the decision is made, Leo, you had better set off. We’ll cope here.’
‘Here, Minnie,’ whispered Mother. ‘Take some of Mrs Webber’s scones with you.’
‘And I’ll make a flask of tea.’ Aunt Betty turned on the tap. A brown, rusty dribble gurgled out. When a spurt of clear water followed, everyone cheered.
‘Thank you for everything,’ said Aunt Minnie tearfully. ‘But you do understand, don’t you?’
Daisy understood perfectly. She knew exactly how Aunt Minnie felt. It didn’t matter if there were floods, fire or famine as Mrs Gulliver often quoted from the Bible. The heartstrings always drew you home.
Chapter 67
When the warning sounded, it was decided to follow Uncle Leo’s suggestion. As they reached the bend in the road that led to the public shelter, the smell reached them in advance; a strong disinfectant mixed with the ingrained stench of urine.
At the entrance, a queue of people pushed and shoved while inside benches were lined up in rows, sufficient for more than fifty people - so the warden informed them.
Daisy hated it on sight. Cramped, noisy, stuffy and smelly, the accommodation was almost unbearable. Much to her alarm, the floors were stained yellow. Worse still, the warden allocated them benches close to the makeshift toilets. Mother was horrified to discover the lavatory consisted of half a dozen pails behind a sagging curtain. There was no privacy and no one got a wink of sleep. Babies screamed and children were fretful. A man had a dreadful cough that he proudly took care to distribute with enormous sneezes. Mother issued hankies to cover mouths, but when an elderly lady collapsed, the air became putrid as puffing and sweating, people tried to assist.
It was a good hour before the patient revived, but by then, Daisy suspected this nightly arrangement did not bode well for the future. When morning arrived, it came not a moment too soon.
‘I prefer our damp shelter,’ Mother confessed as they trudged wearily home. ‘Besides, tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. What will it be like shoulder to shoulder with fifty other people, who I am sure will need to celebrate? In such a confined space I doubt that we’ll get a wink of sleep. It’s not as if we had any alcohol of our own and could join in.’
Aunt Betty stood still. ‘I’ve just remembered. Ed kept a bottle of apple cider in the old toilet at the side of the house. The ancient plumbing was broken so Ed stripped it out and used the space for storage. He always meant to restore it to its former glory … ’ She smiled fondly at the memory. ‘Whether or not there’s very much apple cider left in the bottle, or even if it’s still there, goodness only knows. ’
‘All is not lost, then,’ replied Mother with a grin. ‘As desperate as we are, even a thimbleful each would do.’
By the time they reached home, everyone’s mood had lifted. Mother lit the Primus and began to fry eggs while Aunt Betty sliced a loaf.
‘After the war is over I’m going to keep chickens,’ vowed Daisy as she devoured her breakfast. ‘Then we can eat a whole egg every day.’
‘Just as long as you remember to feed your chickens,’ teased Bobby. ‘Eggs don’t appear by magic.’
‘I know that,’ replied Daisy haughtily. ‘Mrs Webber thought I was very good at feeding the chickens.’
‘I miss the farm’s food,’ interrupted Aunt Betty. ‘But being back in London feels good, despite our frightful experience last night.’
Daisy gulped her tea, wondering if she would like the taste of apple cider and whether or not there might be an alternative - such as a bottle of lemonade hidden somewhere - for children.
That night, the Luftwaffe’s attack was met with fierce opposition from the British Airforce. The little tin house, as Daisy thought of it, shook and shuddered as the assaults intensified. They were all so sleep-deprived that even the loudest explosions didn’t keep them awake.
Yet again, the air was cloaked in a thick, impenetrable fog the next morning. ‘We’re at the end of yet another year,’ Mother said wearily, cautiously stepping into daylight. ‘Who would believe it?’
Aunt Betty nodded. ‘Thank God, we’re all still safe yet thousands of people have lost loved ones. Look, I think the house has survived too.’
All eyes turned to view the dim, but familiar outline. ‘What’s for breakfast?’ Daisy enquired.
‘Bacon, eggs and fried bread,’ said Mother with a chuckle.
Though the porridge was no where as enjoyable as a fried meal, Daisy ate hers greedily. The hot oats rolled down her throat and quelled her rebelling stomach. The tea, though weak and watery, was hot and comforting.
After breakfast, duties were allotted. Daisy was given the task with Bobby of finding the apple cider. After a thorough search of the storage space, the apple cider was discovered.
‘It’s three-quarters full,’ said Mother delightedly. ‘Quite enough to celebrate.’
‘Let’s hope 1941 is kinder to us,’ sighed Aunt Betty, staring through the kitchen window to the end of the garden. ‘Mr Cook was right about that empty house. Now the mist has cleared, you can see it’s nothing but a ruin. Such a depressing sight. This neighbourhood held such promise before the war.’
‘Like so many others,’ Mother agreed, joining her at the window, ‘and there will be a good deal of rebuilding to do. Who knows if we’ll ever go back to Poplar Park Row?’
A short while later, Daisy stood with Bobby on the gravel path that led to the street, outside the kitchen. ‘Did you hear what Mother said to Aunt Betty? We might never go home!’
‘Pops won’t let that happen,’ said Bobby confidently as he opened the door of the old toilet.
‘But what if our house isn’t even there?’ Daisy suggested. ‘And there’s just a pile of bricks instead?’
’Look!’ exclaimed Bobby, adroitly changing the subject. ‘There’s an old crate and some pram wheels under the shelf. They would make a terrific cart.’
Daisy wasn’t interested. ’I’ll never sit on our swing under the apple tree or go to school again. I’ll never see our friends or Sally.’
‘Stop moaning and help me.’
She reluctantly obeyed though her heart wasn’t in it. When the crate and wheels were successfully dragged out, Bobby examined their finds. ‘There’s a pot of Uncle Ed’s paint on the shelf. It would look better if it was another colour. And with a bit of encouragement the wheels will fit.’
Daisy was unimpressed. She was still thinking about Poplar Park Row and all the things she would miss.
Chapter 68
It was midnight and the candle’s flame was the only light to illuminate the shelter. ‘Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind,’ Daisy sang with Bobby, Mother and Aunt Betty.
She recalled the many new years’ celebrations in Wattcombe and none of them had been like this one. She fondly remembered her early years with Grandma and all her aunts and uncles and Matt - who in those early days - had not even dreamed
of the brave pilot he would become.
The apple cider was shared into enamel mugs, and Mother made the first toast. ‘To Nicky and Ed, Matt and Amelia. God keep you all safe.’
‘Come home soon,’ said Aunt Betty quietly. ‘I’ve so much I want to tell you.’
Another toast was made for the rest of the family.
‘And Mr Cook,’ added Bobby, ‘and his crew.’
‘And Nurse Gwen,’ continued Daisy enthusiastically. She was about to include poor departed Tommy when an enormous explosion rattled every inch of the shelter. The mugs were lost and the candle extinguished.
1941 had arrived with ink-black darkness and the sickly smell of a very cold and musty Anderson shelter.
‘Happy New Year,’ Mother murmured as a familiar wisp of morning light squeezed in above the shelter door.
‘Happy New Year,’ replied Aunt Betty in a drowsy voice.
Daisy had slept fitfully under the blanket, but now the air tasted sour. It didn’t seem like a happy new year at all.
‘I’ll open the door,’ said Mother, unsteadily rising from the armchair. ‘Those explosions in the night came very close. I hope we’re not trapped.’
To everyone’s surprise, the door gave way. ‘Our luck’s in,’ decided Mother, shivering fiercely under her coat. ‘But there’s that awful fog again.’
Daisy staggered out beside Bobby who stretched his arms and peered around. All Daisy could see were fragments of concrete, dislodged roof tiles and broken bricks. ‘Be careful,’ warned Mother as they moved towards the house.
‘The door is still on its hinges,’ called Aunt Betty, first to arrive at the kitchen. ‘There seems to be no structural damage.’
They all stood uncertainly until Aunt Betty stepped forward to enter. Once inside they were met with a predictable, but heart-sinking scene. Over every inch of space lay a coat of thick grey dust that would take hours to remove.
‘Oh well, it could be worse,’ said Aunt Betty cheerfully. ‘I’ll look upstairs, Flo, if you check downstairs.’
Mother handed Bobby the broom and Daisy the mop. ‘The kitchen is yours,’ she said with a grin.
‘I really hate housework,’ Daisy complained to Bobby, who began creating more dust than he was clearing.
‘Me too,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s hurry up. Then I can finish the cart and whizz you along the street.’
Encouraged by Bobby’s unexpected offer, Daisy took off her coat and rolled up her sleeves.
After breakfast, the letterbox rattled.
‘It can’t be a delivery, can it?’ gasped Aunt Betty, her eyes wide as she pushed back a lock of untidy brown hair and jumped to her feet. Running into the hall, she cried, ‘Three letters, Flo!’
‘We haven’t had a post in weeks!’ gasped Mother and quickly followed.
Once seated back in the kitchen a letter from Pops was opened first. ‘Nicky’s is very short,’ said Mother disappointedly. ‘He wrote at the beginning of December. Unfortunately this has been heavily censored. Perhaps he mistakenly gave some indication of where they are stationed?’ Her voice broke and she took her hanky from her sleeve. ‘He writes that he’s well and hopes we are too. He wishes us all a happy Christmas.’ A tear slid down her cheek. ‘But there’s no mention of when we shall see him again.’
Aunt Betty hurriedly opened hers. She read it, then sighed. ‘Practically the same, Flo. The censorship prevents any real information coming through. And like Nicky, Ed says nothing about leave.’
Daisy watched Mother open Matt’s letter. ’The date is December 4th 1940. And remarkably, there seems to be very little deleted.’ She paused, catching her breath. “Dear family, how long is it since we’ve seen one another? Too long. I hope you received my letters before Christmas. Daisy, I took care to send yours to the hospital and hope you are well and fighting fit by now. Mother, thank you for your letter confirming you’re staying with Aunt Betty. Pops, no word as yet from you, but my guess is that your circumstances, whatever they may be, might prevent it. I’ll be brief with my own news. Amelia and I enjoyed a special pass just before Christmas. Wales is beautiful in winter, but cold! We spent two days in Pwllheli. Here, we married by special licence. Please, please, be happy for us. Of course we should have waited - but how could we? Mother and Pops, you are to be grandparents. So you see, we are simply ecstatic. It’s safe to say I have wings on my feet! Rejoice for us. Celebrate! Stay safe in these dangerous times. Write quickly. I love and treasure you all. Matt. P.S. Sadly my leave has been cancelled. I can’t say more about this. Don’t be unhappy for there is so much to look forward to.”
Mother looked up, her pink cheeks damp. ‘Oh, Matt,’ she murmured, ‘my darling Matt and Amelia. What welcome news!’
‘Goodness!’ exclaimed Aunt Betty. ‘You’re to be a grandmother, Flo.’
‘I can hardly believe it.’
‘The fortune cards!’ exclaimed Aunt Betty. ‘Pat was right after all. Your card was a lily, Flo. The symbol of innocence and purity. It meant a grandchild!’
Mother and Aunt Betty hugged one another, but Daisy was disappointed. She wouldn’t be a bridesmaid after all.
Chapter 69
‘I was going to be a bridesmaid,’ complained Daisy as they stood on the path outside the old toilet door. ‘I thought Matt and Amelia would have a big wedding.’
‘Mother told you it was highly unlikely. What with the blitz and all.’
‘They could have waited until the blitz was over.’
Bobby heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘That could be years ahead. And anyway, there’s a baby on the way. Now, come on, let’s pull the crate out.’
By sheer brute force, the crate and wheels were unearthed from the rest of the junk and Bobby critically studied the proposed cart. ‘I’ll need to screw the wheels onto the crate, or else it’ll come apart. But I haven’t got any tools.’
‘Uncle Ed keeps his tools indoors. I saw them under the stairs,’
Bobby’s face brightened. ’I’ll ask Aunt Betty if I can use them.’ Her brother made a swift exit.
Daisy gave the cart a little push with her toe. It wobbled forward unevenly. Would she really be able to sit in it? Even if she could, how would Bobby pull it along? Suddenly she recalled a length of rope she had seen at the rear of the storage room. Minutes later, Daisy was skipping on the path.
One skip … two skips … the newly discovered rope turned effortlessly! Round and round it went until the action slowed and she began to trip. On closer inspection she discovered the rope had begun to fray.
Her attention was focused on resolving this when the man appeared. His face was hidden under the brim of a dark hat as he moved slowly from the street towards her.
Then she recognized the mackintosh.
‘Hello,’ he said in a voice that Daisy remembered from Aunt Betty’s office at the factory. ‘You’re Daisy.’ He gave a false smile. ‘Do you know who I am?’
Daisy stumbled back, dropping the rope. ‘M … Mr Calder.’
The smile vanished. ‘So your aunt has told you about me? I’m glad to hear it.’ He moved towards her.
Her head told her to run, but her legs were rooted to the spot. She was about to turn when, with lightning movement, he reached out and grabbed her.
‘Quiet!’ he growled as he cupped his hand over her mouth and pinned her against the wall of the house. ‘Listen carefully.’
He was strong and Daisy knew resisting was useless.
‘I hoped you would be reasonable, but now you’ve made things very difficult.’
Daisy‘s thoughts whirled. How could she raise the alarm?
‘Bring your aunt out here. Tell her she has a visitor.’
Wide-eyed, Daisy stared into his gaze. He wasn’t at all like the smart, well-dressed man she remembered. His eyes darkened menacingly. There was stubble on his chin and his cheeks were hollowed.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ he threatened. ‘If you don’t do as I say, I’ll come after you. If you scream or make any noise, y
ou won’t see your family again.’
Daisy froze. Would he really dare to harm her?
She tried to think calmly. What was she to do? More importantly, what was Mr Calder going to do?
‘I’ve waited for this moment for a long, long time,’ he rasped in a husky voice. ‘I’ve been patient, made plans for your aunt and me. I’ve bought train tickets to take us out of this damned city. We’ll be far away from London by this evening. Tomorrow we’ll start our new life.’ His voice dipped low. ‘Tell Betty she must come to me, or it will be the worse for you all.’
Daisy gulped down her fright. Mr Calder was quite mad. She was certain of it. She had to warn Aunt Betty and Mother.
But all her resolve disappeared when he drew the gun from his pocket.
Little lights flickered over her vision. Her ears roared with noise, then dulled to a whisper. She couldn’t breathe. Daisy knew she must compose herself, just as Nurse Gwen had taught her.
‘Do you understand?’ He pressed the muzzle of the gun into her chest.
Daisy fought against the faint. She nodded.
‘I have your full cooperation?’
Once again, Daisy nodded.
‘Turn very slowly. I am just behind you. I shall pull the trigger without hesitation if I become suspicious.’ He slowly let go of her.
Daisy blinked, trying to clear her vision. Her forehead throbbed and her legs felt weak and wobbly.
‘Walk!’ snapped Mr Calder, prodding her back with the muzzle of the gun.
Daisy walked, but it didn’t feel like walking. She felt as if she was floating. It was only a few feet to the kitchen door. But what would she do then? And what if Bobby came rushing out? Would Mr Calder pull the trigger and kill them both?
