Bomber Overhead

by Graveyard Greg

  Chapter 5

  The woodworking class had started when Jeffery arrived. Mr. Bradshaw, the shop teacher, didn't much care what time his students turned up and took no notice, but continued to demonstrate and instruct shoe repair to those who were already there. Mrs. Burnett had told Jeffery she had no shoes to let him have for repair. This left him with nothing to do except carry on building an egg rack. He'd just pulled the tools out and taken the partly finished rack from the drawer allotted to him when Arthur sidled over.

  "Did you get it?" asked Arthur, referring to the cane.

  "Yeah! Three across the finger tips. It hurt."

  Arthur spotted Mr. Bradshaw eyeing them, picked up a piece of Jeffery's unfinished egg rack, pointed to it and said, "Peskett's an old bitch. See you later." Then he put the piece down and walked back to his own work.

  Later, after school was over for the day, Jeffery and Arthur hurried up to the playing field and crossed into the farmer's field. Ginger was already there in the copse holding the kitten upside down in both hands rocking it like a baby.

  "That's not the way to hold a kitten," Jeffery said. They like to be held right side up."

  Ginger sniffed "Doesn't seem to bother it," She said. She was right. The kitten slept peacefully. "Thing is -- well -- where are we going to keep it? They won't have it at the pub." Ginger was billeted at the Fox and Hounds Inn, a pub at the lower end of the village green opposite the church.

  "No point in asking the Burnett's." Jeffery shrugged, spreading his hands. "They don't like feeding me much, let alone feeding a kitten."

  "I told you I'd take it to the manor," Arthur said. "There's lots of old sheds and buildings there. Should be some place."

  "They've also got a lot of dogs up there." Ginger said and pulled the kitten closer. "What about them? They'll kill a kitten."

  "They're not dogs," Arthur countered," they're hounds. Foxhunting hounds."

  "Foxhunting hounds. That's even worse. They'll hunt the poor thing down and kill it for certain. I hate foxhunting."

  Arthur shook his head. "No they won't. The hounds are kept in kennels behind a high wire fence. They can't get out, so they won't be able to hurt it, will they?"

  Ginger came up with another objection. "They'll smell it. They'll start howling and scare it to death."

  "You got a better suggestion?" Arthur asked. "You can't keep it and Jeffery can't. Leave it here and the farm dog's going to make short work of it. That dog doesn't like stray cats. Only farm ones." He stared at the other two. "The kennel is on the opposite side of the house from where I'll put it. There's a big old barn there. They don't use it these days because Colonel Bartelby only keeps a couple of horses now and they're in a smaller barn near the hounds."

  Neither Jeffery nor Ginger really liked Arthur's plan, each wanting to keep the kitten close by, but they couldn't think of a better one.

  "Let's go, then," Ginger said as she put the kitten back into the box. "We can go down past the farm and out the farm gate. That's the quickest way."

  "Not me," Arthur said with a vigorous head shake. "We might run into old Selkirk. He told me never to come back on his land again."

  Jeffery started to laugh.

  "It's not funny," Arthur cried out. "He got his shotgun with him all the time."

  "You can't blame him being angry," Jeffery said. "You burned his haystack down, and you won't tell us why you did it. Maybe I should set fire to the Burnett's house and end up at the manor." Grinning broadly he wagged a finger at Arthur. "What do they call it? The Hostel for Problem Evacuees?"

  Arthur laughed. "You know that's not the proper name. Nobody saw me put a light that haystack. I was smoking, but there was another man there. He was smoking, too. Could have been him. But I would have burnt old Selkirk's haystack if I'd known I'd get thrown off the farm and end up at the manor. Best place I've ever lived."

  Ginger held the kitten's box tight to her chest. "Come on then," she said. "I've got jobs to do down at the pub. They're not a bad lot, but if I'm late they get upset. Then they stay grumpy all evening."

  So the three of them marched off to the corner of the field and pushed through a gap in the hedge. Then they scooted across a cart track and through a gap in the hedge on the far side. Through that, they turned left, clambered over a stile and came out on the road leading to the school. Ginger had put the kitten back into the box and she shoved the box into Jeffery's hands.

  "Take this, then. I've got to go. I really, really don't want them to be cross." Then without saying more, she rushed away towards what the locals called the bottom of The Green. Jeffery and Arthur went the other way to the top. Five minutes later they arrived at the high brick wall that surrounded the manor. A road ran up to a big, wooden double gate that closed off the driveway. Alongside the main gate there was a smaller gate which they entered. The manor, a large, two story, gabled house covered in Ivy lay straight ahead.

  "This way," Arthur said as he swung right away from the road, and moved off down a narrow dirt footpath that ran close to the inside of the tall brick wall. "Nobody comes along here that I know of. We can get around the back without cutting across the garden. George, the old gardener doesn't like us near his garden. Thinks we'll steal his stuff. There's nothing there this time of year worth stealing, anyway. Not as if there'd be strawberries or stuff like that."

  The footpath was partially overgrown. As they pushed through the thick growth they were brushed by rain soaked shrubbery and low tree branches. The rain soaked undergrowth wetted them and Jeffery started to worry about what Mrs. Burnett might say when he got home. As the going got rougher the kitten jumped around in the box and started to meow plaintively.

  "How much further?" Jeffery wanted to know.

  "Not much." Arthur cut away from the footpath and turned toward the house.

  Off to the right the wall surrounding the manor had collapsed and Jeffery saw a wooded area beyond. "Why don't they have that repaired?" he asked.

  "I don't think the Colonel can afford it. He's got this big house, but the servants say he's almost broke. He gets paid to have us evacuees here. That helps. They say he'll have to sell after the war. At one time he owned the woods on the other side of the wall. They got sold."

  "Well what about his wife and children?"

  "Lady Bartelby died a few years before the war. From new-monia. That's what Betsy said. She's the kitchen maid. We watch out for Betsy, she's not very nice and she don't like the evacuees."

  "Why not?"

  Arthur stopped and shrugged. "Search me."

  They were walking over short grass in full view of the house. Jeffery glanced over and saw a young female face at the window. "Somebody's watching us."

  "That'll be Betsy. She spies on everybody. I told you, not nice. She won't tell, though, not unless there's something in it for her. I bet right now she's wondering what we've got in the box. We've got to fool her and find a place for the kitten to sleep so we can take the box out with us."

  Soon they came to dilapidated out-buildings. The old barn Arthur had mentioned loomed over them and beside that was a small wooden house.

  "This should do," Arthur said. "I think it's a chicken coop, but they don't have chickens no more. The door isn't locked, but I think it can be shut tight so the kitten can't get out. Then it can run around inside. I'll sneak food and water out later. See if I can pinch some milk, too." The door had a latch and he pushed the lever down and opened the door, climbed in, turned and took the box from Jeffery. Then Jeffery climbed in after him.

  "Quick. Shut the door."

  Jeffery pulled the door closed and they were left in complete darkness. Then Arthur reached up and pushed a ceiling plank aside. Enough of the failing daylight came through the opening to allow them to see. A shelf ran along one wall. Arthur placed the box on this. The kitten could be heard scratching and scrabbling at the box trying to get out. Jeffery opened the lid and lifted the frightened animal onto his shoulder. It rubbed up against his chee
k and he started to stroke it.

  "It's so scared and frightened," he said. I hate to leave it here all alone."

  "What else can we do? It'll be safe here for now."

  "I suppose you're right," Jeffery said. "I have to go. Mrs. Burnett's going to be angry at me with my wet clothes. I don't know what I'm going to tell her."

  "Ah! Tell her you came here to see the hounds. She won't like it but the village people love the foxhunt. Put the kitten down and let's go."

  "Wait a minute," Jeffery said. "If the Colonel's so poor, how can he afford to keep the hounds?"

  "They're not his anymore. He sold them, too. Now the local hunt club pays him to keep them here. He can't afford to belong to the club either, but they let him belong anyway."

  "How do you know all this?"

  "Betsy."

  "But you said she wasn't very nice."

  "She's not. But she likes to gossip, and she likes talking to me."

  "How come?"

  "Nobody else will listen to her. Besides, someone told her I burned a haystack down. She thinks that's funny. She used to have a job at the farm, but the missus sacked her."

  "Arthur!" Jeffery said. "Did you burn that haystack? That wasn't a kind thing to do."

  "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. He was working me too hard. Got me up early to clean out his chicken houses. Then in the evenings I had to clean out the horse barn and once a week polish the harness stuff. I said I wanted sixpence a week for me trouble. He clouted me round the ear. Said I was lucky to have a roof over my head. So if his haystack burned down, maybe it served the silly old bugger right."

  "It still wasn't kind."

  Arthur shrugged, "Haven't said I did it, have I? Can't undo what's done, anyway. And whether it was me or not it got me here. Here's a lot better than being worked to death on that farm. It's almost dark. Hadn't you best go? "

  "Yeah. But I'm in trouble anyway. How do I get out?"

  "I'll take you through the house. Then you go down the drive to the front gate."

  They went out and closed the door. As they left, the kitten could be heard meowing. Arthur led Jeffery in through the back door of the house and down a passageway until they came to the front door. Other children wandered around inside the house, but the two boys spoke to no one. Neither one of them noticed Betsy eyeing them from the kitchen door.