by Ann Turnbull
Edith drew in her breath. “Where did you get that? You stole it, didn’t you?”
“Found it,” said Vic. “Found a few things, me and Stan.”
Stan had joined them. “Those houses in Belmont Walk,” he said, “they’re all empty. Chace Terrace as well, and Ruyter Street. Rows of toffs’ houses, no one living there, all their furniture and stuff left behind. The owners have hopped it.”
“Gone to their country homes for the duration,” said Vic. “Jewellery and all sorts left lying around…”
“You broke in?” Edith sounded shocked, but Josie could see that she was impressed.
“It’s easy. The cellars are the best way. And those people don’t need the stuff, or they’d have taken it with them.”
“But – it’s still stealing,” said Josie.
Vic shrugged. “Rescue services do it all the time, don’t they? Our cousin’s a fireman. Says it’s one of the perks. Anything small, like that. Or stuff you can sell.”
Josie didn’t want to believe him. But Clare, who’d been listening, said, “It’s true. My aunty’s house in Hampstead was looted after she was bombed out. She says it must have been the rescue workers.”
Josie didn’t like to think of that: men risking their own lives to save others, but robbing them at the same time. Did that make them heroes, or villains?
“There’s your loopy friend,” said Vic, glancing across the waste ground.
Josie saw Alice Hampton hurrying along the road, head down.
“She’s not our friend!” retorted Edith.
And Sylvia said, “She’s a drip.”
They left the boys, and Josie hoped they would choose a game – skipping, or tag. But it seemed the game was to be taunting Alice. They began to pick up small pieces of brick debris and flick them, as if accidentally, in her direction, all the time drawing closer. Then, with Pam in the lead, they set off in pursuit.
Josie hung back. But Edith said, “Come on!” – and she went along with them, afraid to be singled out, shown up as different.
They surrounded Alice; blocked her way. She tried to push past them, but Pam and Edith dodged from side to side, laughing, outwitting her, keeping her trapped. “Don’t run away! We’re coming with you to your class. Then we can all learn to be teacher’s pets.”
Alice ignored them. Sylvia sneaked up behind her and pulled her plait, untying the ribbon, which slipped out. Clare tugged at her satchel. “Let’s have a look at your books! What are you learning? Let’s see.”
“Leave me alone!” Alice shouted.
Josie appealed to her cousin. “Edith, let her go. It’s mean.”
But Edith wasn’t listening. She was full of the excitement of the chase. Alice broke free of them, but they ran after her and caught her up. Josie followed, unwillingly.
They only fell back when Alice turned the corner into Belmont Gardens, and they saw that she was heading for one of the houses there.
“So that’s where she goes,” said Pam.
The group split up, and Edith and Josie set off home down the King’s Road.
Josie walked ahead, knowing her feelings must be obvious to her cousin.
“It’s just a game,” said Edith. “We’re not hurting her.”
“It’s mean.”
“So what? No one likes her. You don’t like her, do you?”
“No.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, then, does it?”
But Josie felt that it did.
The next day, at school, she said to Alice, “I tried to stop them chasing you.”
But Alice only shrugged and said, “You needn’t bother. I don’t care.”
At break times Alice stayed in, doing tasks for Miss Hallam: filling inkwells, or tidying the stationery cupboard.
“She’s a toady,” said Sylvia.
Or she’s scared to come out because of us, thought Josie. But she didn’t say so.
On Friday they followed Alice home from school after lunch. They walked at a discreet distance – mindful of the fact that they were in school uniform – but they spoke loudly about creeps and toadies. Josie knew Alice must be all too aware of them. When she reached her family’s shop she opened a side door and glanced back with a hunted expression before going in and closing the door behind her.
I ought to stick up for her, Josie thought, whether she wants me to or not. But Josie had been the victim herself at school in Greenwich. It wouldn’t take much for Edith’s friends to turn against her. She pushed at her glasses – a nervous movement. If she didn’t seem to be their sort; if she wouldn’t go along with them; if Edith let slip a hint about Ted (and she might; you couldn’t trust Edith)… Why should she risk it, sticking up for a girl no one liked?
“Josie! Come on!” called Sylvia. “We’re going over to Lennox Square. Vic says there’s lots of shrapnel…”
They like me, she thought. I’m part of the group. It was a good feeling. She desperately wanted it to last.
Chapter Seven
Trouble
On Monday morning, before prayers began, Miss Gregory said, “I should like to see the following girls in my office after Assembly: Clare Barrington; Pamela Denham; Sylvia Wells; Edith Felgate; and Josephine Bishop.”
A murmur was heard throughout the hall. Everyone knew that being called to see Miss Gregory meant trouble. Josie felt a sinking sensation in her stomach; her hands turned clammy. She’d only been here a week and already she was up before the headmistress. It must be about Alice Hampton, she thought. In desperation she looked at Edith, but her cousin only shrugged and widened her eyes as if she couldn’t imagine why they had been summoned.
After that, the prayers and hymns washed over Josie, unheeded; she could take in nothing except the fact that she had to go and see Miss Gregory.
When the hall began to empty, the five of them drew together and made their way to Miss Gregory’s office. Josie had never felt less happy about being part of the group. Clare’s face was set hard. “That Alice has told on us! She’s gone sneaking to Miss Hallam!”
“She’ll be sorry if she has,” said Pam.
They stood outside the door, whispering. Edith said, “Do you think she’ll see us one by one?” and Sylvia whimpered at the thought.
Then Miss Gregory opened her door, and they all fell silent.
“Come in, girls,” she said.
Of the two teachers, Miss Gregory was the one everyone was afraid of. From what Josie had heard, she was a formidable woman with no time for excuses. One glance from her had been known to reduce a girl to tears. Sylvia was sniffing already.
Josie was too frightened to cry; she kept her head low, and so did Clare. Pam was wearing her belligerent “it wasn’t me” look; and Edith, gazing wide-eyed at Miss Gregory, appeared so innocent and well-brought up that it was difficult to imagine her being accused of anything.
“Sylvia, use your handkerchief,” said Miss Gregory with distaste.
Her gaze swept over all five of them.
“I have heard reports that you girls have been seen playing with boys on a bomb site near Belmont Gardens. Is this true?”
So that was it. No mention of bullying Alice – unless she was leading up to that, Josie thought.
“Yes, Miss Gregory” – a murmured chorus.
Miss Gregory assumed an air of feigned weariness. “Day after day,” she said, “I have stressed the dangers of playing on bomb sites: danger from falls, from cuts, from unstable buildings, even from unexploded bombs. Most of your mothers are at work or helping the war effort in some way. They can’t be watching over you all the time. They rely on you, as I do, as your country does, to behave in a sensible manner. Do you think you have behaved responsibly, and set a good example to the younger girls?”
“No, Miss Gregory.”
“No, indeed. But there is another, even more important aspect to this. Girls, I think you know the school’s motto: ‘Hold fast that which is good’. That means your behaviour in and out of school should be
beyond reproach. We try, even in these difficult wartime circumstances, to encourage you to become good citizens. We hope each of you will take the values you learn in school out into the community, that each of you will be a credit to the school. Playing on bomb sites, with boys” – she said the word as if boys were an alien form of life, Josie thought – “is hardly the way for young ladies to behave, is it?”
“No, Miss Gregory,” they chorused dutifully.
“I am ashamed of you,” continued the headmistress, her voice growing rich with indignation. “Now, at a time when civilization is at risk and standards more important than ever before, you have let down the school and cast a slur on everyone here. I am surprised at you, Edith” – Edith looked up, startled, outraged at being singled out – “leading your cousin astray in her first week with us.”
Josie felt impelled to say, “Edith didn’t—” but Miss Gregory silenced her with a look.
“I hope that I shall not have to speak to you again about this. If any further lapses occur I will be obliged to inform your parents. Meanwhile, I expect you to go straight home after school.”
Edith fixed the teacher with her wide blue gaze. “But, Miss Gregory, we do! We weren’t on the bomb site in uniform.”
“Edith, a Mary Burnet girl behaves like a lady at all times – is that clear? – not merely when she is in uniform. The school’s reputation is in your hands.”
“Yes, Miss Gregory.”
“You will all be given extra homework and you will go straight home and stay there.”
“Yes, Miss Gregory.”
Outside, Pam exploded. “It’s not fair! Everyone goes on bomb sites! Why pick on us? And who told her?”
“It’s Alice,” said Clare. “She’s getting back at us. She’s ratted.”
Josie found that hard to believe. No one went running to teachers, no matter what happened.
Sylvia agreed. “It was probably a neighbour – some nosy old bag.”
“An old bag who knew all our names?”
That made it suspicious.
“We’ll get her this for this,” said Pam.
In the classroom, a lesson was already in progress, and all eyes were on the five girls as they went to their seats. Afterwards Miss Hallam delivered a warning to the whole class about the dangers of playing on bomb sites and collecting shrapnel. She didn’t mention any names, but everyone must have known what had happened. Alice kept her head down over her work, and Josie wondered if she really had told Miss Gregory. But even if she hadn’t, someone – perhaps the tutor in Belmont Gardens – must have got the names from Alice.
There was no opportunity for revenge while they were at school. Alice stayed behind when they went out at break; and after dinner, when everyone was going home, she was nowhere to be seen.
They waited for her round the corner, pretending to look in shop windows. Josie felt anxious and had no wish to confront Alice.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered to her cousin. “Edith, Miss Gregory said we should go straight home.”
“Go on, then, if you’re scared. I’m staying.”
“But—”
“Here she comes!”
Alice saw them and tried to cross the road, but they surrounded her – like a pack of wolves, thought Josie unhappily.
And yet the girl deserved it. You could see the guilt in her face.
“You told on us!”
“You sneaked to Miss Gregory!”
They pushed and jostled her as she tried to get away.
“Admit it! It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Let me go!” said Alice.
“Why did you report us?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did!”
“I didn’t tell Miss Gregory.”
“You told someone.”
“You’re a creep.”
With each accusation Pam and Clare gave her a push.
Some shoppers came by – two women with a child and a baby in a pram – and they were obliged to ease off. Alice seized the opportunity to move away. With a surprising flash of defiance she turned back and flung at them, “If you don’t want to be reported you shouldn’t go there!”
This caused the women to look up in surprise and disapproval. Alice ran off, and the rest of them could not pursue her without squeezing past the pram and drawing more attention to themselves.
“I’m off home now,” said Pam.
“Me, too.”
“And me.”
“Mind you don’t meet any boys,” joked Edith.
“Boys!” exclaimed Clare. “Ugh! How dreadful!”
“A Mary Burnet girl does not associate with boys!” said Pam. “She holds fast that which is good.”
They all struck holding-fast attitudes.
“Civilization!”
“Standards!”
“Responsibility!”
Then, with “Bye! See you tomorrow,” they split up, Clare and Sylvia following in the direction Alice had gone, Pam heading for Sloane Square, Edith and Josie for the Embankment.
It was understood, without saying, that they would not meet up at the bomb site today.
When Edith and Josie reached home there were some letters lying on the mat.
“There’s one for you,” said Edith.
“Oh! From Mummy!”
Josie opened it carefully so that the envelope could be reused.
Edith hovered, peering to see.
“Go away!”
Biddy could be heard, miaowing outside the back door. Edith went to let her in, and Josie escaped to the hidey-hole at the top of the stairs.
Granny was doing well, her mother said, but it would still be several weeks before she could be left on her own. They’d had some bombing last week; did Chelsea have it too? She hoped Josie was being a good girl (Josie bit her lip as she read that) and no trouble to Aunty Grace. And that she was wearing her vest and remembering to take her Virol and cod-liver oil.
“Now here’s some good news,” her mother continued. “Ted has some leave in about ten days’ time. He says he’ll stay in Greenwich (he’ll be able to check on Russ) but come and visit us here in Dagenham; and he plans to visit you, too…”
Ted! Coming here! Josie’s heart leaped in delight and alarm. Ted had had no leave since before Christmas, and she longed to see him. But at the same time she felt panic-stricken. Suppose someone saw her with him – someone from school? Suppose someone asked what he did? Or Edith let something slip? Edith would be full of it; she’d be sure to drop hints. If only he didn’t have to come here, Josie thought. And then she felt ashamed: how could she think she didn’t want her brother to come and see her?
“Josie? Are you up there?”
Josie folded the letter and put it in her pocket. She’d have to tell Edith about Ted coming – but not yet.
Chapter Eight
The Top Flat
The girls continued their persecution of Alice Hampton the next day. At school they had to be careful – there were teachers about and Alice took care to stay in at break. But she couldn’t escape them entirely. They hissed “Sneak!” and “Creep!” at her in passing. Pam and Edith caught her in the toilets and held her cubicle door shut so that she couldn’t get out, while Clare, in the next cubicle, flung a cup of water over her from the top of the partition.
“We told her it was water from the toilet,” Edith told Josie.
“But it wasn’t?”
“Ugh! No! We wouldn’t touch that!”
Josie saw them catch her again at the end of break. Alice was hiding among the coats in the cloakroom, and they dragged her out, pinched her and pulled her hair – all before anyone had time to notice.
When school ended for the day they planned another ambush.
“Come on, Josie,” Edith said – and Josie followed, reluctantly.
They lay in wait around a turning off Sloane Street, and this time Pam and Edith were armed with handfuls of gravel.
Josie wasn’t happy. “Edith
, I’m going home.”
“You haven’t got a key.”
“I don’t care. We’ll get into trouble, doing this. And anyway, it’s not fair.”
“Not fair!” Pam was indignant. “After what she did to us?”
“We started it before that.” Josie struggled to explain. “I don’t like her either. But – even if she did tell on us, it’s not right…all this. It just makes things worse.”
The others stared. Pam rolled her eyes. Sylvia giggled and said, “Are you a Conchie or something?”
“What?” Josie felt as if she’d been punched – and at the same moment she heard Edith give a yelp of laughter. “No!” Josie said, too loudly. “Don’t be stupid!”
Edith gave her a look that said “serves you right”.
She’ll tell, Josie thought. She’d tell without a thought if it suited her.
And then Sylvia hissed, “Here’s Alice!” and their quarry appeared. Clare and Sylvia jumped out and grabbed her while the other two stuffed gravel down the back of her coat and blouse.
In the scuffle that ensued, Josie hung back. She wanted to go on ahead to Chelsea Walk; she was ashamed of herself for not going. But she feared what Edith might say to the others about her if she ran off.
Alice, who had never shown much emotion before, was almost in tears when they’d finished with her. She ran off towards the King’s Road with small stones cascading around her, her hair escaping its plait.
Edith turned her aggression on Josie as the two of them walked home. “You needn’t think I’ll break up with Pam and the others.”
“I never asked you to. I just asked you to leave Alice alone.” Josie knew it came to the same thing; that she was asking too much.
“They think you’re wet, my friends.”
My friends. I’m going to be shut out here, just as I was at home, thought Josie, if I don’t go along with them. Even Edith will turn against me.
She was aware of the atmosphere between them as they walked on, together but apart. “Shall we get our sweets?” she asked. “Go down to the Embankment?”
