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by Jill Barry

  “Phew, that’s a relief.” Charlie’s smile was shaky but she was beginning to make sense of all the mutterings and half-truths she’d been wondering about.

  “There’s no question of Don not joining up so we’ll need to recruit an apprentice. I’ve asked around and there’s a lad who’ll do nicely, I reckon. It’s young Jack – you know him already and he’s keen to work. You’ll have a good team around you and even though George Costello’s past it as regards lying under motor vehicles to mend them, he can teach Jack the basics. I’ve asked the boy to turn up tomorrow so I can give him a bit of a talking to. No time like the present.”

  Charlotte heaved a sigh. “You’re not even waiting for the announcement are you? You’re that sure?”

  “I’m sure all right, love. It’s not a case of ‘if’ but a case of ‘when’.”

  “Why did you take your time about talking to me? Did you think I’d run away or something?” Charlotte tried not to sound hurt.

  Her dad’s smile was affectionate. “You’re a young woman with a young woman’s hopes and dreams,” he said. “I wanted you at least to have a short time when you could enjoy your new romance. The timing’s terrible for you and Robert but with luck, we’ll all come out of it at the end. Just you keep thinking that, Charlotte.”

  “Dad,” she whispered. “Mum would be proud of you, you know.”

  Her father swallowed hard. “And of you, love, that’s for sure. Now give your old dad a hug then I reckon we’ll call it a night, what say you?”

  Charlotte put her arms round her father. “One more thing, Dad – what did you mean about Pearl? Is she giving up doing our books? She’s not said anything to me.”

  “She’s probably waiting for the announcement but don’t you think, when the whole thing swings into operation, Pearl will decide to volunteer? They won’t call her up yet but from little things she’s said lately, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her apply for a job in a munitions factory, even join one of the women’s forces.”

  At that moment, Charlotte felt a surge of panic. She’d been thinking of her men folk and totally forgetting the women were in this too. “I suppose I’m being selfish but I’d assumed she’d stay and help me.”

  “When you reach twenty, you’ll need to be registered as carrying out a necessary role in my absence. I don’t know the whys and wherefores yet but that’ll come. Pearl’s very useful to us but an older man or woman not eligible for call up could easily replace her. She knows that.” His voice softened. “It’s not about friendship you know, it’s about saving our country. Now, we’d better get our heads down, love. It’ll all be sorted out as time goes by, don’t you fret.”

  Next morning, with her father out helping the town’s mayor to get his car back on the road, Charlie was able to have a quick chat with her brother.

  “Dad’s finally told me what he’s been mulling over,” she said as she dished up bowls of porridge. It was a chilly morning and having risen early, she’d put a pan on to simmer.

  Don reached for the can of golden syrup. “About time,” he said. “Mind you, I didn’t know all of it. He mentioned taking on a youngster to me but he only told me about Mr and Mrs Costello last night. I don’t think Robert even knew. It’s a good idea, though.”

  “Yes,” said Charlotte cautiously. “I haven’t met them yet, remember.”

  Don licked his spoon. “I’ve only met them a couple of times. You must have seen Robert’s dad at the fair, surely? And Mrs Costello often sells the Wall of Death tickets of an evening.”

  “There was an older lady with dark brown hair coiled up in a bun, the night I went over there and Robert took me to the Velvet.” She looked expectantly at Don.

  “That sounds like you saw Mrs C.”

  “She never said anything to me about being Robert’s mum but she was very cheerful and friendly.”

  “The show must go on, I suppose, like here, in a way. We might feel a bit off-colour, might not feel like talking about the weather or whatever, but the customer expects our attention.”

  “The customer’s always right, as Dad says.” She suddenly remembered her trip to the hairdresser. “Eleanor said the same to me when she was doing my hair, come to think of it.”

  Don nodded. “Regular customers are worth hanging on to. First timers might become regulars, unless they live miles away. It’s not a bad thing to remember.”

  “Don’t fret, Don. I’ll even apply that rule to Mr Ghastly Greener.”

  He shook his head and tilted his bowl to scrape up the last spoonful of porridge. “Now that, dear sister, is asking a lot. But I have faith in you.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “Praise indeed. Now get off with you and open up. It’s washing day but I’ll bring some tea round as soon as I can.”

  “Good girl. Um, is, um, Pearl in today by any chance?”

  Charlie couldn’t hide her grin. “She’s due in this afternoon, as it happens.”

  “Right, then.”

  “Well, don’t leave me in suspense! Are you going to ask her out?”

  He tapped the side of his nose. “That’d be telling.”

  “See if I care. I’ll get it out of Pearl anyway, that’s for sure.”

  “Women!” But Don was smiling. Charlotte liked things tidy. Also, a happy brother was far easier to deal with than one still stewing over a failed friendship. With a bit of luck, Pearl and Don might also be able to enjoy some fun and companionship during these last fragile days of peace.

  A couple of evenings later, Charlotte took the bus from the Corner Garage stop to the promenade. She’d asked to borrow the car, hoping to save some time but Mr Moore put his foot down and told them both he needed it himself that evening.

  “Wonder what he’s up to?” Don said to Charlotte when she called into the office on her way out that evening.

  “I’ve no idea,” she said. “He can’t be going to visit Robert’s parents because I’m sure he’d have offered me a lift.”

  Robert peered through the window. “Your bus is on the way. I expect Robert will bring you home.”

  Charlotte picked up her bag from the counter. “You still haven’t said anything about you and Pearl.”

  “I’m biding my time,” he said. “I have my reasons.”

  Both Dad and Don were being most mysterious, thought Charlotte as she hurried to the bus stop. The news about Germany invading Poland had probably interfered with her brother’s plans to court Pearl, if that had been his intention. She didn’t like secrets but now she had other things on her mind, things that like this last, chilling announcement, needed to be dealt with.

  She climbed up on to the top deck and when the conductor appeared, requested a single ticket. Even if Robert couldn’t bring her home later, she didn’t mind walking back. Her father’s efforts to clean up early and even shave for the second time that day still puzzled her. But as soon as the bus lumbered along the road to the old harbour on its approach to the promenade, she was down the stairs and standing on the platform, clutching the handrail ready to jump off and go to find Robert.

  She headed for the entrance around the side, anticipating the main entrance would be closed. To her relief, the small door was unlocked and she slipped inside and round the Wall of Death arena towards the big carousel, which seemed to hold an aura of sadness, standing silent and stripped of its bright lights.

  Over at the ghost train she spotted Robert. His back was towards her as he tapped at one of the boards with a hammer, so she tiptoed as quietly as she could until she was almost within touching distance.

  “Wooh …woohoo,” she wailed. “I’ve come to get you …”

  Robert swung round and rose swiftly to his feet. He placed his hammer on top of the little flight of steps leading to the train platform. “You make a delightful ghost,” he said, hugging her to him. “I like the sound effects.”

  “I was going to ring and see if it was all right to come over but Don was on the phone then it went out of my head.”

  �
��You forgot all about me? Huh!” He pulled a woebegone face.

  She giggled. “Hardly! I meant I forgot to make the phone call. I do think about you quite a lot, you know.”

  He still held on to her hands. “That’s good, because I think about you too, Miss Moore.”

  “As long as they’re good thoughts,” she said.

  “Always. Now, my parents are in the house and they’d like us to go and have a cup of tea with them. Is that all right?”

  “Well, yes,” she said. “I suppose this is all to do with what Dad told me the other day – his plans for the future.”

  Robert nodded. “It’s a weight off my mind to think of my father having employment,” he said. “My mother’s come up with an idea too. She’s thinking of offering bed and breakfast though she probably won’t have much trade over the winter. I think it’s a good idea. The house has four bedrooms and,” he hesitated, “with me gone, they’ll only have need of one.”

  Charlie hid her face in his shoulder. “I don’t want to think about you going away.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he said. “But I’m about to turn twenty and we have to face up to the situation. Whatever happens, it’s a relief for me to know you’ll have people around that you can trust and who will care about you.”

  She nodded. “Dad’s thought things through and I’ll do my best to cope but thank goodness your mum can keep books. That’s such a relief.”

  “Good. Now, unless you want a tour of the ghost train, I think I’m done for the evening. I just need to put away these steps and my box of tools.”

  “Could I have a peep inside? The ghost train ride, I mean.”

  He laughed. “Come on then. I’ll shine my torch for you then you can see grisly ghouls to your heart’s content.”

  Charlotte followed him on to the platform and stepped gingerly down to the lower level where twin metal rails snaked beneath double doors painted with gnarled tree branches. These resembled skeletal arms ending in claws and she was quite relieved when Robert reached for her hand then pushed open the doors.

  They walked into blackness. Robert shone his torch upwards and Charlotte saw giant spiders suspended from thick cobwebs and little black bats whose eyes glowed like hot coals in the beam of light. An owl perched on a tree branch, its huge eyes gleaming as Robert swivelled the torch in its direction.

  “Goodness,” she said. “It’s so realistic.”

  “Only when it’s in darkness,” he said. “If I put the overhead lights on, which we do of course when we need to fix something, you’d think it looked very tame compared to now. It’s quite a complicated set up, what with the sound effects as well. You should come along next weekend and sample the real thing, Charlie. Feel the cobwebs brush your cheek as you glide by.”

  “Ugh! We’ll have to see about that,” she said. “Thanks for showing me though. When you shone the torch around, I could see how cleverly it’s designed, considering it’s not a very big space.”

  “Tricks of the trade,” he said as they turned to make their way out.

  Despite knowing nothing macabre lurked within the ghost train ride’s innards, Charlie felt relieved when the staff door opened easily into the soft evening light.

  “I should have brought your mother some flowers,” she said while Robert put away his kit and secured everything.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “She’ll be pleased if you just bring yourself.”

  They walked through the deserted fairground and through the unmarked entrance Charlie had used on her way in. Robert slid the bolt across and clicked the padlock into place.

  As they walked up the road leading to his home, he squeezed her hand. “Only one more weekend’s trading,” he said.

  “What do you normally do during the off-season?” She realised this was something she’d never thought about before.

  “There’s always maintenance come September. We try and do as much as we can then take a short holiday somewhere, maybe with family back in Ireland. Having an aunt living in London’s quite handy because she loves to come on holiday to the seaside, which means we have an open invitation to go and stay with her.”

  They crossed the road. “This year of course, is a different matter.” He paused, as if finding the words difficult to say. “My father won’t be opening the fair again next year, that’s for sure.”

  “No, but he’ll have plenty to do, won’t he?”

  Robert stopped. “Thanks to your father, he will. It’ll take some of the worry away and that can’t be a bad thing.”

  Charlotte almost blurted out there’d be other, potentially much more dangerous things to face but thought better of it. “Do I look tidy?” She asked.

  “You look lovely,” he said. “Come on. You can meet them properly now. They’re just ordinary people,” he said. “Please don’t be nervous.”

  The evening had turned chillier and she shivered as he unlocked his front door. “After braving things that go bump in the night, I should be perfectly able to face your folks,” she said.

  “They’re not the problem,” said Robert. “I forgot to tell you about our big, bad hound. He’s called Smuggler.”

  “Oh dear, I’m not really used to dogs,” said Charlotte, wondering whether Smuggler would detect her feelings and take an instant dislike to her. “Um, how big exactly is he?”

  A door at the end of the hallway opened and she whirled round to see the smiling face of the lady she remembered from the Wall of Death pay box. Along the carpet scampered a butterscotch coloured bundle of fur, resembling not so much a big, bad canine as a floppy-eared puppy. Charlotte dropped to her knees and opened out her arms so Smuggler could snuggle on her lap, while Robert’s mother frowned at her son.

  “Don’t keep the poor young lady in the hallway,” she said. “Bring her in for a warm by the range. You don’t mind dogs, Charlotte? Say the word and I’ll put Smuggler in the lean-to with his toys.”

  Charlotte put the little dog gently down on the hall carpet and he scampered back towards the kitchen. She walked towards Mrs Costello, hand extended. “Hello. I think Smuggler’s lovely so please don’t shut him away on my account.”

  Robert’s mother beamed at her and grasped her hand. “Come and sit down, love. I’m looking forward to hearing all about you. Let’s just get to know one another this evening, shall we?”

  Next morning, Charlotte’s father was eager to know how she’d got on.

  “I really like Mrs Costello,” she told him, adding a fried egg to the tinned tomatoes on the big blue Delft china plate.

  “Oh dear,” he said, reaching for the bread. “I hope that doesn’t mean George gets the thumbs down.”

  “Gosh, no,” she said. “Robert’s dad is quieter, that’s all. Takes a while to get to know you, I’d say.”

  “I’d say, takes a while to get a word in with two ladies in the room,” said Don, pulling out his chair.

  “Cheeky … you do want breakfast this morning, I suppose?”

  Don bowed his head. “Yes, please, sister dear. So, did you enjoy your evening? Hope the news didn’t put a damper on the occasion.”

  “We tried to avoid unpleasant things – found lots to talk about, some sad but some very jolly.” She put Don’s plate in front of him and brought her own to the table. “Ah, thanks for pouring my tea, Dad. Did you have a nice evening?”

  Her father blinked rapidly. “Me? Oh, yes, I did, thank you. Just a bit of business I needed to discuss with someone.”

  They ate in silence, Charlotte wondering who’d be first to broach the subject of the Prime Minister’s speech. He’d have no alternative but to address the waiting nation soon.

  Her father seemed to read her thoughts? “Was that the letterbox I heard?”

  “I’ll go,” said Don. “I expect you’d like a squint at the paper before we open up.”

  Mr Moore and Charlotte continued their meal in silence. Donald was back in moment, the daily newspaper in his hand. He placed it beside his father’s plat
e.

  Charlotte and her brother exchanged glances as their father’s gaze went straight to the headline.

  “Not long to wait now,” he said.

  On Sunday morning Mr Moore entered the kitchen through the side door and headed for the Bakelite radio on the shelf. He twiddled the knobs and settled himself at the table. A glance up at the clock showed him it was almost ten past eleven.

  The door opened again. “You’ve beaten me to it, Dad. Do you want me to go and relieve Don so he can hear what the Prime Minister has to say?”

  “He’s all right, Charlotte. I think he wants to carry on as normal as long as he possibly can.”

  Charlotte nodded and put the laundry basket in a corner. “The ironing still needs doing and the customers still need attending to.” She pulled out a chair.

  The two sat in silence waiting for the announcement they dreaded but knew was inevitable. Mr Chamberlain didn’t waste words when he told the nation their country was at war with Germany. Those words would stay locked in the memories of Charlotte’s family and those of countless others, for the rest of their lives.

  Chapter 7 - Life Goes On

  “There’s something that’s been worrying me, Charlotte and at last I’ve come up with a solution.”

  “Only one thing, Dad? If that’s all then you’re not doing too badly.”

  “You know I’m relieved to have you managing the business, especially with Mr and Mrs Costello around?”

  Charlotte nodded. “We’ll make sure things go well. It’s going to be strange but we’ll all do our best. It’s a case of having to.”

  “I’m afraid so. My problem has been the thought of you living here on your own, with Don and me both away.”

  “I’ll manage. It’ll seem funny, cooking for one though.”

  “How would you feel if your godmother moved in for a while?” His eyes focused on Charlotte’s face.

  “Auntie Eleanor move in here with me? Whatever brought on that crazy idea?”