by Sam Michaels
Charlotte dropped her head into her hands, and after a while she noticed a damp feeling on her fingers. Pulling her hand back, she slowly opened her eyes to look at it and saw blood on her blue woollen glove. She pulled off the glove and touched her head again, this time wincing at the sharp pain. And then she remembered… Tim. He’d gone back to help clear the crowds. A new wave of panic washed over her and she jumped to her feet, scanning the horrendous scene down the street. Plumes of smoke and dust were glowing red and orange, lit by the flames of the fires. People were running in all directions, some limping slowly, others gazing at the destruction in shock.
With trepidation, she staggered forward, desperately seeking sight of Tim. Please, let him be alive, she prayed, edging closer to the horror.
‘Tim… Timothy…’ she shouted but her voice was hoarse and lost in the sound of the roaring fires. ‘Tim… Tim…’
She saw a familiar looking figure silhouetted against the glow of the fires. He’d scooped up a child and was heading towards an ambulance. Relieved he was alive, she intuitively knew it was Tim and rushed over.
Buildings had crumbled. Men and women were standing on the wreckage of piles that were once houses, moving bricks one by one and passing them down a line. The despair of what they might discover under the fallen debris was etched on their blackened faces. Charlotte tried not to look and focused on Tim. She called his name again but he couldn’t hear her. As she neared the ambulance, she saw him rush back to another burning building and watched in awe of his bravery.
Someone placed a blanket over her shoulders.
‘Let me take a look at that, miss,’ he said, pointing to the wound on her head.
She’d forgotten about her injury. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, her eyes fixed on Tim.
He came towards the ambulance again, this time with his arms supporting an elderly woman. As he drew closer, he looked up and when he saw that she appeared unhurt, he smiled. The ambulance driver took the elderly lady and Tim pulled Charlotte into his arms.
‘Thank goodness you’re ok,’ he said, holding her close.
Charlotte was glad to be in his arms and felt herself crying.
‘It’s all right,’ he soothed, stroking her hair. ‘Christ, you’re shaking. I’ll take you home now.’
They walked back slowly, hand in hand, neither of them speaking, both dazed from the bomb blast.
As they turned onto Alexandra Avenue, it was Tim who broke the silence. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you into this tonight.’
‘You don’t have to apologise. It’s your job. You wouldn’t be much of a copper if you didn’t want to go and help people.’
‘Thank you for being understanding. I don’t suppose you’ll want to go out with me again?’
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because I didn’t listen to you when you asked me to take you home.’
‘I saw what you did, Tim. I saw you rush into that burning building with no regard for your own safety. You saved that old girl. Of course I want to go out with you again, you silly sod, but perhaps next time we can just get a bag of chips from Shooters?’
‘Good idea.’
Charlotte felt him squeeze her hand a little tighter. Before now, the thought of a man touching any part of her body had left her feeling sick to her stomach, but there was something about PC Batten that felt natural and she enjoyed the feeling of her hand in his.
They were just outside the house when the front door flew open and Lord Hamilton came rushing out. ‘Charlotte, oh, Charlotte, we’ve been so worried about you,’ he said, frowning at the blood that had trickled down the side of her face. ‘You’ve been hurt!’
‘It’s fine, just a graze,’ she said, smiling wanly.
‘We heard the blast. One of the neighbours said a bomb exploded along from York Road.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Come inside, dear, out from the cold and let me pour you a brandy.’
Charlotte shot him a frantic look, worried he’d forgotten they were harbouring a wanted woman.
‘And you PC Batten. You appear to have done a spiffing job of looking after Charlotte. I should imagine you’d be grateful of a brandy too?’
‘I wouldn’t say no,’ he answered.
As they walked into Charlotte’s flat, she held her breath and crossed her fingers, hoping Tim wouldn’t spot any sign of Georgina being there. Her eyes flitted around the front room and fell on the two tumblers and bottle of champagne.
‘Sit down, by the fire. I’ll pop upstairs and get the brandy,’ Lord Hamilton said.
Tim waited until Charlotte had taken off her coat and sat in one of the armchairs. He hovered over her and, looking at the dried blood on her face, said, ‘I’ll get a bowl of warm water to clean you up.’
Charlotte leapt to her feet. ‘No,’ she snapped, panicking. Georgina could be hiding in the kitchen!
Tim looked taken aback.
‘Sorry, my nerves are a bit jangled. Just sit down, Tim. My head is fine, I’ll clean it up in a minute.’
He sat in the chair opposite and leaned towards her as Dog rested his head in her lap.
‘We were lucky tonight. I don’t know how I came out of that unscathed. And I can’t tell you how pleased I was to see you standing there. The whole time I was helping people to the ambulance, all I could think about was you.’
Charlotte felt herself blush and looked down at Dog.
‘I’m sorry, I’m making a fool of myself and embarrassing you.’
‘No, it’s nice. I felt the same. I was so worried that something awful had happened to you. Gawd, the relief I felt when I saw you!’
Lord Hamilton swanned back into the room carrying a half-full bottle of brandy. He took the two tumblers to the kitchen and returned with a drink for them both.
‘What happened out there?’ he asked Tim.
It was Charlotte who answered. ‘A bloody big bomb went off, that’s what happened. It was horrible, really horrible, but Tim here was a right hero.’
‘I’ve no doubt, a strapping young police officer like yourself.’
‘No, I wasn’t a hero. I did what anyone else would have done.’
‘Take no notice of him, Lord Hamilton. He was a hero and I saw it with my own eyes. He ran into a building that was on fire and pulled out an old woman. She would have burned to death if he hadn’t rescued her.’
‘Well done, young man!’
Tim looked across to Charlotte and smiled awkwardly at her which made her stomach flip again, but she didn’t want him to be having this effect on her.
‘I say, you must both be exhausted. Now, drink up, PC Batten. I shall draw Charlotte a hot bath and then we shall leave her to rest.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Tim said and gulped down the brandy, pulling a face when he’d finished.
As he stood up to leave, Lord Hamilton handed him the bottle. ‘You can have another before bed. It may help you to sleep.’
‘No, thank you,’ Tim said, passing the bottle back. ‘I’m not really much of a brandy drinker and I have to get up early tomorrow.’
‘Well, thank you for bringing Charlotte safely home. When we heard the explosion, you can imagine what went through our minds.’
‘We… who’s we?’ Tim asked.
Charlotte saw Lord Hamilton was unnerved by the question and quickly interrupted, ‘Him and Dog.’
‘Yes, Dog and I were terrified,’ Lord Hamilton said, sounding believable.
Tim said goodnight, and when he left the room, Lord Hamilton closed the door behind him. Charlotte was left wondering what on earth she’d been thinking! No matter how much she admired Tim’s bravery, or the feelings he’d evoked in her and the feel of her hand in his, first and foremost, the man was a policeman and she had to keep that in mind. Or else Georgina could end up being arrested and if that happened, she knew she’d never forgive herself.
9
Georgina, dressed and ready to go, paced back and forth, stoppin
g every few seconds to pull back the curtains a crack to glance out the window, eagerly waiting for Johnny to turn up. The sun hadn’t yet risen and the street was in darkness. She didn’t expect Johnny to arrive for at least a couple of hours but she’d hardly slept again and had been awake since four. Though this time, rather than lying awake listening for every sound, on edge and ready to run, her insomnia had been caused by the anticipation of seeing her children.
‘Blimey, Georgina, you’re up at a sparrow’s fart. Johnny won’t be here for a while yet.’
‘I’m sorry if I woke you,’ Georgina said and turned away from the window to look at Charlotte. In the low lamplight, she could see the girl’s head was showing a distinct bruise from her injury of the previous night. But she was pleased to see that Charlotte didn’t seem to be too adversely affected from her experience.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Charlotte asked.
‘No reason. Just making sure you’re all right.’
‘Yeah, I’ll live, unlike some of them poor beggars last night.’
‘Try not to dwell on it, eh?’
‘I won’t. Don’t worry about me. You just make sure you have a lovely time with your kids.’
‘I can’t wait,’ she answered, turning back to the window.
She could hear Charlotte in the kitchen and smelt the aroma of bread toasting. And though her mouth watered, she couldn’t face food. Her stomach was doing somersaults.
‘Some toast and jam and a strong cuppa,’ Charlotte said, coming back into the front room and offering her a tray.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t eat. I’ll take some sandwiches for me and Johnny. Maybe I’ll feel a bit more settled later. But I’ll have the cuppa, thanks.’
Charlotte pulled off bits of the toast and fed them to Dog. ‘What a waste,’ she moaned in jest. ‘He’s getting good rationed food, the spoilt mutt. I put loads of butter on this.’
Hours later, Georgina turned off the table lamp, turned on the wireless and pulled open the curtains to see sunlight flooding in through the taped windows, drenching the room in a golden hue. She was glad of the good weather for their trip to Wales. As she gazed out onto the street, she saw PC Batten leaving the house. She thought he looked very smart in his uniform with polished silver buttons down the front of his jacket, and his helmet gave him added height. And then it struck her that she didn’t feel the usual repulsion towards him that she’d normally feel about a copper. What was different about him? Was it because Charlotte had developed feelings for him? Of course, the girl hadn’t admitted it – she had in fact fervently denied it – but Georgina could tell that Charlotte was falling for him. As long as Charlotte didn’t get her heart broken, Georgina didn’t mind her being in love with a policeman, especially as it could work to her advantage.
Now that PC Batten was out of the way, she was eager to get going and was delighted when she finally saw Johnny driving towards the house. ‘At last,’ she said to herself, then called to Charlotte, ‘Johnny’s here.’
Charlotte came through from the kitchen with sandwiches and bottles of pop. ‘There you go,’ she said, handing the bundle to Georgina. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
As Georgina climbed into her old car, dressed in her workman clothes, she refrained from looking up and down the street. She didn’t want to act suspiciously or appear nervous.
‘Good morning, Miss Garrett. You’re looking… erm…’
‘Like a bloke,’ she answered, smiling at Johnny.
‘Yeah, like a bloke,’ he laughed.
‘I think it’s about time you called me Georgina. No, you’d better make it George, for now.’
‘Oh, I dunno, Miss Garrett, it wouldn’t feel right. You’re the guvnor.’
‘Not anymore, Johnny.’
‘Yeah you are. Anyway, what have you got there? I’m famished.’
As Johnny set off, Georgina unwrapped a corned beef sandwich for him.
‘Thanks,’ he said, driving with one hand on the steering wheel. ‘I reckon we should arrive before teatime.’
‘I hope so. Have you got the map?’
‘Yep, and some petrol coupons. Don’t take the piss but there’s a flask of tea under your seat an’ all. Oh, and a handgun for you.’
Georgina sat low in her seat with her flat cap pulled down, watching the sights of London pass. It was heart-wrenching to see so many buildings bombed and turned to rubble, queues outside shops, housewives desperate for their meagre rations, and the distinct lack of children playing in the streets or on their way to school. When she’d given Selina to Lash’s parents, it had been with reluctance but she’d known it was for the best. The decision had been made when her daughter was just months old and bombs were dropping all around them. Mary had talked her into it and Lash’s parents had readily agreed. But at the time, she could never have imagined that the war would still be raging years later and children would be separated from their parents, evacuated to safety. Damn you, Hitler, she thought, looking at a group of soldiers proudly wearing their khaki uniforms. They were getting on a tram, going to gawd knows where. She wondered if they’d been waved off from home by mothers and wives. Were they on their way back to war? Would they return to London or would their blood be spilled on foreign lands?
‘When will this bloody war be over with?’ she said, her mood dampened.
‘Christ knows! It’s been going on too long now.’
The rhythmic motion of the car relaxed her and she felt the tension lifting from her shoulders. Her eyelids began to feel heavy and as the car trundled out of London and into the winding country lanes, Georgina drifted into sleep.
She found herself with David, his arms around her as she breathed in his scent. He was whispering something in her ear but she couldn’t quite hear him. Now they were in his office and drinking champagne, laughing about the enormous carrot hiding behind the curtains. She pulled her gun from her clutch bag and David applauded her as she shot the potato sitting at his desk. Lash came in and carried her away. David gave chase, waving his gun in the air. Georgina held tightly around Lash’s neck and then she heard the gunshot. Lash fell to the floor. She screamed. Then David pointed his gun at her.
She woke to Johnny’s voice as he gentle nudged her arm. ‘Miss Garrett… Miss Garrett…’
‘What… I think I’ve been asleep.’
‘Yes, for hours but I woke you up ’cos it sounded like you were having a bad dream.’
‘Thanks. Where are we?’ she asked, looking out the window at the unfamiliar countryside.
‘Not long now. I’ve seen the sea a few times. About an hour away, I reckon.’
‘Blimey, thanks, Johnny. I’ve been asleep for most of the journey.’
‘You have and it’s been nice and peaceful,’ he said with a laugh.
*
They drove up a hill, the road seemed endless, but the higher they got, the faster her heart pounded. She knew that on the other side of the hill, Lash’s family would be camped and she’d finally hold her children in her longing arms. But she feared how they might react to her. Selina wouldn’t know her and Alfie may have forgotten her. Would they be scared? Excited? Shy? What did they look like now? She imagined Alfie would be the image of his father with dark hair and eyes. Would Selina look like her? Her mind raced as the car went over the brow of the hill.
Georgina tried to peer through the trees to the valley below but her view was too obscured. ‘Hurry up, Johnny, they should be down there. Can’t you drive any faster?’
‘Sorry, Miss Garrett, but I’ve gotta take it slow on these bends.’
Halfway down, still she couldn’t see the caravans or the horses.
The road curved to the left and then she spotted three vardos, alone, next to a stream where three horses were grazing. ‘There!’ she exclaimed excitedly, ‘Over there.’
At the bottom of the hill, Johnny brought the car to a stop and Georgina took a deep breath. ‘Wait here,’ she told him. ‘I’ll be back soon. Let me speak
to Lash’s parents first. They’ll offer us a bed for the night but I don’t want them to be on the defence because I’ve walked in with a man.’
As Georgina approached the three caravans, she looked up and down the valley, wondering where the others were. And where were her children? Something didn’t feel right.
She stood outside the first vardo, painted green and decorated with small but elaborate red and pink flowers. The large wheels and steps up were red, and gold coloured curtains dressed the small windows. The front door was framed by intricate wood carvings, as was a wooden box attached to the undercarriage. A wooden stand with a tin wash basin stood outside and smoke belched from the small chimney. Someone must be home.
‘Hello,’ she shouted, and waited.
The door opened and a lady with black hair tied high on her head came out, wiping her hands on a cloth. She wore an apron over her long, black dress and a red crotched shawl over her shoulders.
‘Sastibe (hello), Georgina.’
‘Sastibe,’ she parroted, unsure of who the woman was.
‘Come inside. The pot is hot.’
Georgina followed the woman inside and as she did, memories of being in Lash’s parents’ vardo came flooding back.
‘Besh (sit). Martya (spirit of the night) told me you would be coming.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.’
The woman, her face etched with the tales of a thousand lives, sat opposite Georgina at a small table. ‘I’m Rukeli, your husband’s Beebee (aunt). I’ve seen you many times through my third yak (eye).’
‘Thank you for inviting me in, Rukeli. Can you tell me where my children are?’
‘Zeravo (left) to the ocean. Your Sastro (father-in-law) made it so. Your children are with their niamo (relatives) and they travel a lundo drom (long road).’
Georgina couldn’t believe what she was hearing and hoped her confusion was because of her limited understanding of their language.
‘I’m sorry, please speak to me in my tongue. Are you telling me my children aren’t here?’
‘Yes, Georgina. It is for the best.’
