by Tony Bradman
“Oh yes, your Ladyship,” said Hilda. “All done, sheets changed…”
“Jolly good,” said Lady Musgrave. “Well, Betty, this way to the kitchen.”
“What about my case?” I said. Arthur was still standing there with it.
“Don’t worry,” said Lady Musgrave. “Arthur will take it up for you.”
I wanted to argue, but I was so tired and there didn’t seem much point. Besides, the idea of eating something had made my mouth water and my tummy rumble. So I followed Lady Musgrave, although I watched my case till I couldn’t see it any more.
The kitchen was enormous too. There was a giant black iron cooker, loads of pots and pans hanging up, and a table you could have got my whole class round. A plate of cheese sandwiches was waiting for me, neatly cut although the bread was thick.
“Would you like something to drink?” said Lady Musgrave. She sat beside me at the table while Hilda hovered in the background. “Squash? Some milk, perhaps?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather have a cup of tea,” I said, biting into a sandwich. Lady Musgrave raised an eyebrow and Hilda gave me a bit of a look. But the tea she made me was hot and strong and sweet, just the way I like it.
“I expect you want to know a bit more about us,” said Lady Musgrave. “And I’d certainly like to find out about you. But we can leave all that for tomorrow.”
Once I’d finished eating, Lady Musgrave took me upstairs. My room was at the end of a long corridor, and it was amazing. There was a huge bed with loads of pillows, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe, and shelves full of books and teddy bears. A door led to a small bathroom with its own toilet. I couldn’t believe it – an indoor toilet! There was a bath and a sink too, and shelves full of little bottles and soaps.
But the most important thing was my case. And there it was, standing on the floor at the end of the bed. It was all I could do not to open it straightaway.
“This is my daughter’s room,” said Lady Musgrave. She opened the window and a cool breeze wafted in. “Or at least it used to be. She’s grown up now and has her own family… So, will you be all right?” I looked round at her and nodded, and she smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Good night, Betty. I hope you’ll be happy with us. I’ll see you in the morning. But don’t worry, you can sleep as late as you like.”
Then she was gone, the door softly clicking shut after her. I instantly leapt on my case and opened it. Smoky was all tangled in my clothes, and for a terrifying second I thought he wasn’t breathing. Then he looked at me and I knew he was fine.
I picked him up and lay down on the bed to give him a proper cuddle. “I’m sorry, Smoky, but we’re here now and you’re safe,” I whispered as he nuzzled against me and purred. The bed was very comfortable and I closed my eyes, just for a second, I thought…
When I woke up early the next morning Smoky was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’d been having a nightmare about Mr Hitler and Mum and Dad. Mr Hitler was holding a bomb like the ones in the funny films, a round black thing with a fizzing fuse. Mum and Dad were in our house, hiding under the kitchen table with their hands over their ears. Mr Hitler laughed and chucked the bomb through a taped-up window, there was an enormous BANG! – and suddenly I was wide awake.
I sat bolt upright in bed, my heart thumping. I was still in the nightmare, terrified that Mum and Dad were dead. I heard a strange sound coming from somewhere outside – COCK-A-DOODLE DOO! – and the nightmare faded away. Suddenly everything came flooding back. Leaving home, the train journey, Lady Musgrave, being driven to her house, letting Smoky out of my case…
Smoky! Where was he? The last thing I remembered was cuddling him as I fell asleep, but now he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t on the bed, or in it, or under it, or in the case, or in the bathroom. I began to panic, my heart started thumping again, and terrible thoughts filled my mind. What if Lady Musgrave had come back into the room after I’d fallen asleep and seen him? What if she had taken Smoky away?
Then I remembered the open window, and I knew where Smoky had gone.
I rushed over to it and looked out. I’d only seen the front of the house the night before, and that had been in the dark. Now it was the morning, and I saw that Lady Musgrave’s house didn’t have a back yard like my house in London, it had a back garden almost the size of Southwark Park! Most of it was grass, but there were lots of big bushes down both sides, and a whole forest at the far end. The sun was only just starting to peek over the trees, so I realized it must be very early. I wondered where that cock-a-doodle-doo had come from – maybe there was a farm somewhere nearby.
I could see drainpipes below the window, and a small tree with branches close to the wall. So it would have been easy for Smoky to climb down. But where was he now? I scanned the garden – and there he was, doing a wee by a bush! When he’d finished he looked up at me, bold as brass. Then he sauntered off like he didn’t have a care in the world, and slipped into the shadows beneath another bush.
Well, I was in a proper state at that moment, and no mistake. I was cross with Smoky for running off, terrified Lady Musgrave might see him, and trying to work out what to do, all at the same time. Should I run down and grab him before he ran off even further? If he got lost I’d need help to find him, so maybe I should simply confess everything to Lady Musgrave…
Then I thought – hang on a minute, what am I worrying about? Lady Musgrave was probably still in bed, nobody else was in the garden, and Smoky seemed happy. He must have needed some fresh air after being cooped up in that case. So perhaps I could relax. I didn’t have to worry about where he could go to the toilet, and he didn’t seem bothered about being fed – I would find him something later.
Looking at him, I had a feeling he’d come back when he was good and ready. He could climb up the drainpipes like at home – I’d hide him somewhere when he did. But that could wait… I yawned, and realized how tired I’d been the night before – I was still in the clothes I’d worn on the journey. I quickly pulled them off, dug my nightdress out of my case and put it on. I climbed into bed, and soon I was asleep again.
I didn’t have any more nightmares, thank goodness, and when I woke up once more I guessed it was late. I had a wash in that amazing little bathroom – I was sure even the King’s daughters didn’t have one as good. Then I got dressed and headed downstairs, hoping for some breakfast. There was nobody in the kitchen, but I could hear voices, and I tracked them down to a room across the hallway.
Lady Musgrave was in there with Hilda and Arthur. It was a big room full of settees and armchairs and tables, but they were all standing at one end, round a huge wireless. It was about ten times the size of the one we had at home, more like a piece of furniture than a radio – all polished brown wood and loads of winking lights.
“Ah, Betty!” said Lady Musgrave, smiling. “Did you sleep well?”
“Ssshh, he’s about to speak!” Arthur hissed suddenly, then realized who he was talking to. “Oh, sorry your Ladyship, I, er… didn’t mean to be rude, but…”
“Don’t worry, Arthur,” said Lady Musgrave. “You’re quite right, we should all listen to what the Prime Minister has to say. Come and stand by me, Betty.”
A man started speaking, and I recognized his voice. It was Mr Chamberlain, our Prime Minister, and he always sounded dead gloomy. ‘This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note…’ Apparently Mr Hitler had attacked Poland, and we’d told him to stop or else. But he wasn’t taking any notice, so now Mr Chamberlain said we were ‘at war with Germany.’
He could have stopped there, but he droned on for a while longer. Arthur looked grim, Hilda started crying, and Lady Musgrave put her arm round my shoulders. Then as soon as Mr Chamberlain finished, I heard a strange noise in the distance.
It was the siren to warn us that the German bombers were coming.
CHAPTER NINE
I knew what it was because I’d heard i
t before. They’d tested the sirens in London more than once over the last year. Mum always said they were like banshees wailing, but I had no idea what a banshee was. To begin with I thought they sounded scary, then after a while I got used to them and they stopped bothering me. But I wasn’t expecting to hear a siren in the country, and suddenly I felt quite nervous.
“Quick, they’re coming!” said Hilda, her face white. “Down to the cellar!”
“Don’t be daft, woman!” snapped Arthur. “I reckon that’s the Barnstaple siren, so it’s miles away. I’ll bet it’s just another test, or someone trying to scare us all.”
“They’ve certainly managed that,” said Lady Musgrave. “I’m sure Arthur is right, Hilda. Why don’t you make Betty something to eat? She must be starving.”
My tummy rumbled as if it agreed with her, but I wasn’t really bothered about eating. I kept thinking about Mum and Dad and the nightmare I’d had. Maybe they were being bombed at that very moment… To be honest, I couldn’t imagine why Mr Hitler would want to bomb somewhere like Devon. There didn’t seem to be much here. But London was different – that’s where most of the important stuff was.
I’ll admit I even began to feel guilty about the way I’d treated Mum and Dad, and worried about them, too. We were at war, just as they’d said we would be. But as I sat there in the big kitchen, wolfing down the delicious ham sandwich Hilda made me, I decided I wasn’t going to forgive them just yet. They’d been planning to have Smoky put down, for heaven’s sake! If it hadn’t been for me, he’d have been dead by now.
Besides, we listened to the news again a little while later, and there was nothing about any air raids on London. Of course I was pleased that Mum and Dad would be all right, but I did feel a bit cross too. The bombing had been supposed to start as soon as war was declared, or at least that’s what the government had said. Well, that didn’t seem to have happened – the grown-ups obviously didn’t have a clue.
“So, tell me about yourself, Betty,” said Lady Musgrave. “I didn’t really have much chance to speak to your teacher last night. It all seemed rather chaotic.”
Lady Musgrave had sent Hilda to start getting ‘lunch’ ready – I wondered if that was what we called ‘dinner’ at home. Arthur had gone off to sort out the blackout curtains for the rooms that didn’t have them already. We’d had a leaflet about them too. Every house was supposed to have curtains that didn’t let out any light at night. That way the Germans wouldn’t be able to see where to drop their bombs.
“There’s not much to tell, er… Miss.” I suddenly felt shy with her. I could see now that she was old, but still good-looking, with lots of auburn hair and green eyes.
“You don’t have to call me Miss,” she said, smiling. “Although I’m not sure what you should call me. I suppose I’m standing in for your parents, but it wouldn’t be right for you to call me Mother. How about Florence? It is my name, after all.”
We talked for quite a while, and I’ll say this for her – she was good at getting information out of me. I told her about my school, and Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison and my friend Mabel. I told her about Mum and Dad and living in Bermondsey. I didn’t tell her we had a cat, though. I thought it best not to mention Smoky, in case she asked any awkward questions or I slipped up and gave the game away.
“Would you like to write to your parents?” she said at last. “I’m sure your teachers will let them know you’ve arrived safely, but they’ll want to hear from you.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She gave me a strange look, but I just shrugged.
What would I say in a letter? It would be very short. ‘Dear Mum and Dad, I’ve secretly smuggled Smoky to the country, so you won’t be able to have him put down now. Hope you’re well and there aren’t too many bombs. Love, Betty.’
“Oh well, as you wish,” said Lady Musgrave. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me? I thought I might give you a tour of the house and garden…”
“There is, as it happens. Who are all the people in those photographs?”
I’d noticed there were loads of framed photographs on the tables in the room – wedding pictures, men in uniforms, children. “Those are pictures of the family,” she said. “This is my daughter Daphne – you’re sleeping in her old room. She’s married and has two boys of her own now. They live in Scotland, so I don’t see them often. And this is my son Nigel. He’s in the Army, the same regiment as his father.”
“That must be nice,” I said. “For them to be working together, I mean.”
She gave me a sad smile, just like one of Mum’s. “I’m afraid my husband was killed in the last war, Betty. Wars seem to come round rather too often.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I felt embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have been so nosy.”
“Don’t be silly! I said you could ask me. I’ve been a widow for a long time, so I’m used to talking about it. I only wish I didn’t feel quite so useless. I have plenty to keep me occupied with the house and garden, but it would be lovely to feel needed. That’s why I volunteered to have you. At least I’m doing something to help.”
I looked at the family photographs again. They reminded me of the pictures of the family we had at home, of me with Mum and Dad, and I almost started blubbing. But Lady Musgrave kept talking, and I blew my nose instead.
CHAPTER TEN
The tour of the house and garden was an eye-opener, to say the least. I hadn’t realized how big the place was. I lost count of how many rooms there were, all stuffed with fancy furniture and rugs, and the walls were covered in old pictures. Some of the rooms didn’t look as if they were used much, though.
The garden was bigger than I’d thought as well – I’d only seen part of it from my window. A path through the trees led to what Lady Musgrave called ‘Arthur’s Kingdom’, a space the size of our school playground in London. Rows of plants filled most of it, although there was a shed in one corner, and some kind of large cage in another. Arthur was standing beside it, a worried expression on his face.
It turned out that Arthur and Hilda were married, and had a room at the top of the house. Arthur was Lady Musgrave’s gardener and handyman as well as her driver. He grew a lot of vegetables, and kept chickens too – now I knew where the cock-a-doodle-doo had come from. Once I was closer to the ‘cage’ I could see it was a sort of little hut surrounded by wire with a lot of chickens cooped up in it. So I wasn’t surprised when Lady Musgrave said it was called a chicken coop.
“Are you all right, Arthur?” she said. “Has something happened?”
“It bloomin’ well has, your Ladyship,” growled Arthur. “We lost a couple of chicks last night. I reckon a fox probably dug under the wire and nabbed ’em.”
I saw the chicks now, little cheeping bundles of yellow bobbling about. There was a hole in the ground beneath the wire. A single yellow feather hung from it.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Lady Musgrave. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Oh no, don’t concern yourself, your Ladyship,” said Arthur. “I’ll fix the wire, and if the blasted creature comes back I’ll soon deal with it, you see if I don’t.”
He nodded in the direction of something leaning against the wire – a long gun with two barrels. Dad loves cowboy films, and he’d taken me to quite a few. Cowboys always have guns, so I knew what they looked like. Still, seeing a real one was a bit of a shock. It gave me a funny feeling to think it could kill an animal or a person.
“Yes, well, I’m sure you will,” said Lady Musgrave. “Come along, Betty.”
We went back through the garden to the house, Lady Musgrave chatting away. But I wasn’t listening. Suddenly I was worried about Smoky. I didn’t like the idea of him being in this garden any more, not when there were things like foxes around – foxes that snatched chicks in the night. Not that I knew much about foxes. I’d only ever seen pictures of them in story books at school, so I knew they had red fur and big tails, but that was it. The question was – would Smoky be
in danger from one?
“Excuse me, er… Florence,” I said, interrupting her. I wasn’t used to calling grown-ups by their first names. Especially not posh grown-ups. “How big is a fox?”
“They’re quite small, like a medium-sized dog, usually,” she said, smiling at me. “They’re certainly no danger to people. You’re not worried, are you?”
“No, not really,” I said. “So why does Arthur want to shoot it, then?”
“To protect his chickens, of course. I suppose it’s hard for you to understand, being from the city. But that’s how it is out here in the country, Betty. Now, I wonder what Hilda has made us for lunch today?”
I did feel a bit relieved to hear foxes weren’t the size of lions or tigers. I knew Smoky could take care of himself. In fact, he had a reputation round our way for being a bruiser. He was always sweet to me, but he’d never lost a fight with another cat, and he’d seen off plenty of dogs, including some big ones. It still nagged at me, though. I couldn’t help thinking of those little chicks being snatched…
Lunch helped to put it out of my mind for a while. Lady Musgrave and I ate in the posh dining room, and Hilda had gone to town with the food, as Dad would have said. She’d done roast beef and potatoes and Yorkshire puddings, with apple crumble and custard for afters. I ate so much I thought my tummy was going to explode. The only time I could remember feeling that full was at Christmas.
“Nice to see someone who appreciates good cooking,” said Hilda. “You make the most of it too, girl. They’ll start rationing food soon, like in the last war, you mark my words.” Mum had already talked about rationing. It was another one of those government things – they were probably going to limit the amount of food for everyone so the country would have enough to get through the war.
