When he had finished she said, ‘Now then, son. What’s all this about? Why did you run away?’
‘They wasn’t nice people, Mum.’ A sob caught in his throat. ‘Please don’t send me back. They made me work all hours and there wasn’t enough food. And when I moaned about being hungry, he beat me – the farmer. Used a stick, he did. Look.’ He stood up and pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers.
Daisy gasped at the sight of the weals across his back. The beatings must have been going on for some time as fresh cuts overlaid those which had almost healed. Dora pulled the boy to her and hugged him, stroking his hair. The old Jimmy would have shrugged her off with an embarrassed grin. But tonight he clung to his mother and wept. ‘Please don’t make me go back,’ he begged.
‘Mum, you won’t will you – send him back, I mean? You can’t,’ Daisy said.
‘Of course not. Besides, there’s been no bombs. We shouldn’t have sent him in the first place, but they said it was for the best...’ She looked down at the boy’s tear-stained face. ‘You’d best get up to bed, son.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Daisy, put a hot water bottle in for him. It’s still cold at nights.’
‘All right, Mum.’ She poured water from the kettle into the stone bottle and left the room, giving Jimmy another stricken look before going upstairs to make up his bed and put the hot water bottle under the covers. Despite so often being impatient with her annoying little brother, she only felt compassion for him now. What must he have endured to dare the long journey across the country to get home?
When he came upstairs, he got into bed without completely undressing and smiled sleepily up at Daisy. ‘Thanks, sis,’ he said. His face changed and, with a look of apprehension he said, ‘What will Dad say? Will he be mad at me?’
‘Don’t you worry about that now. Have a good sleep. We can talk in the morning.’
When Daisy came downstairs the next morning her father was still in bed. ‘Does Dad know Jimmy’s home?’
Dora nodded. ‘We agreed to let him sleep. Poor lad was exhausted.’
‘Is he mad at Jimmy?’
‘He wants to send him back, says the news is bad and the bombing could start any day.’
‘He can’t do that,’ Daisy protested. ‘Has he seen the state of Jimmy’s back?’
Dora shook her head. ‘Said we’ll talk about it later.’
‘Poor Jimmy. How did he manage to travel all that way?’
‘He’ll tell us when he wakes up. Now, love, sit down and have some breakfast. You don’t want to be late for work.’
‘Plenty of time. I’m on late shift today, start at two and won’t finish till ten.’
Dora placed two slices of toast in front of her. ‘Go easy on the butter. Ration’s nearly finished. It’ll have to be marge till the end of the week.’
Daisy ate her toast slowly, thinking that if she was on the early shift she would have had a more sustaining breakfast in the canteen. One thing about working in the NAAFI, there was always plenty to eat. Still, it was nice not to have to rush. She’d go to the post office later and send her letter.
There was the sound of movement from upstairs and she decided to wait until she’d heard about Jimmy’s adventures.
He came downstairs rubbing his eyes, his face still tear-stained, his hair on end. Daisy smiled. He looked much younger than his almost thirteen years and she was reminded of the times she’d looked after him while Mum was busy and how much she had resented it.
Now, she felt only sympathy, especially when Dora turned from the stove and said roughly, ‘Look at the state of you. Go and wash your face and while you’re at it, put a comb through your hair.’
Jimmy shuffled through to the scullery and Daisy looked at her mother in surprise. But Dora flapped a hand at her and said, ‘Don’t mind me, love. I’m so glad to have him home but I daren’t show my feelings. Your dad is determined to send him back to Wales and I’m afraid he’s right. There’s bound to be bombs even if the rumours of invasion are wrong. And with the dockyard just up the road, as well as the airfield up the Island, we’ll be in the firing line.’
‘Mum, you can’t send Jimmy back to the same place. Look what they did to him,’ Daisy protested.
They didn’t notice that Jimmy had come back into the room until he spoke. ‘I ain’t going back, you can’t make me. And if you do, I’ll just run away again.’ His voice choked on the words and Daisy put her arms around him.
‘We won’t make you go. We’ll talk to Dad, make him understand.’ She turned to her mother. ‘We’ll persuade him, won’t we Mum?’
‘Of course we will. Wait till he sees how those people treated him.’ Dora bustled around making breakfast for him and topping up the teapot. ‘Take a cup up to your dad, will you?’ Dora asked. ‘Time he was up.’
Before she could do so, the door opened and Stan came in. ‘Now then, son. What’ve you been up to then?’
‘Dad, he was horrible, that farmer. Locked me in the barn, he did. Said he’d deal with me later. I knew what that meant and I wasn’t going to hang around to get beaten again.’ A note of defiance entered Jimmy’s voice. ‘I just ran, didn’t know where I was but I had to get away.’
‘And you managed to get home – all that way?’
Jimmy nodded. ‘Please don’t send me back, Dad.’ He was almost in tears.
‘We’ll see. Now tell us what happened.’
‘How did you get out of the barn?’
‘Why did he lock you up?’
They all spoke at once and Stan waved them to be quiet. ‘Let the boy tell us in his own time.’
‘He called me a thief – but I didn’t steal anything. I pulled up a carrot from the garden and ate it and he saw me. Said I should wait till his missus called us in for dinner.’ He turned to Dora. ‘I was hungry, Mum.’
‘And he locked you up for that?’ Daisy’s eyes widened incredulously.
Jimmy nodded. ‘But I got out, kicked the door until the lock broke - and then I just ran.’
Gradually the story came out, punctuated occasionally with sobs and pleas for understanding. He had walked for miles, hiding in hedgerows and farm buildings, helping himself to the occasional loaf of bread from a baker’s van or fruit from a vegetable cart. ‘I know I shouldn’t have, Mum, but I was so hungry,’ he sobbed.
‘Never mind that, love,’ Dora said, ruffling his hair.
‘How did you find your way?’ Daisy asked.
‘I don’t know. I just kept walking. There’s no signposts or anything and I couldn’t ask in case someone made me go back.’
Finally, someone had given him a lift. He had meant to hide until the lorry had passed by but he was too late and the man had stopped and shouted at him. When he tried to run, the man jumped down and grabbed him by the collar. ‘I was so scared,’ Jimmy said. ‘But he was kind. And he drove me to the next town and gave me some money. Told me to get the train home.’
‘So you didn’t walk all the way then,’ Daisy said.
‘No, but I didn’t have enough for the fare to Sheerness. I walked from Sittingbourne.’
‘How did you get on to the Island? They’ve got guards near the bridge and you have to show your identity card,’ Stan said.
‘An army lorry stopped at the checkpoint and I crept up and hung on underneath until we got over the bridge. Then I jumped down and walked the rest of the way.’
‘You were lucky to get away with it. They could have arrested you as a spy,’ Daisy said with a laugh.
‘It’s no laughing matter,’ Dora snapped. ‘He could have got into real trouble.’
Jimmy looked worried. ‘I won’t, will I Dad?’
‘No, son. We’ll just say you hitch-hiked.’
‘What about the stealing?’
Before Stan could reply, Dora gave him an impulsive hug. ‘Don’t worry about that. I’m just so glad you’re home.’ She shot a warning glance at her husband.
‘Will I have to go back to school?’ Jimmy asked.
‘We’ll see.’
‘They didn’t send me to school in Wales. They said it was too far. We were right out in the country. Besides, I had to work on the farm to earn my keep, they said.’
‘If only I’d known, I would never have sent you away.’ Dora sighed. She got up and started to clear the dishes.
‘I’m inclined to agree with you,’ Stan said.
Daisy helped with the washing up and then went out to post her letter. As she walked up to the Post Office, she thought about how scared her little brother had looked, and how frail he was. Obviously under-nourished and weak from the beatings he’d received, he had lost his old perky spirit. She hurried home, anxious to add her pleas to her father to let him stay home. Who cared what the government said about keeping children out of harm’s way? He’d endured far more harm in the months he’d been away.
Stan was sitting at the kitchen table eating his dinner when she entered the house but there was no sign of Jimmy or Dora.
Daisy’s heart sank as her father looked up from his plate and frowned. ‘Not at work then?’ he asked.
‘Late shift,’ Daisy answered.
Just at that moment Dora came in. ‘Got time to eat before you go to work, love?’ she asked.
‘Yes, please, Mum. Don’t worry, I’ll get it.’
‘Sit yourself down. You’ll be on your feet soon enough. Rest while you can.’ She turned to Stan. ‘Want some rice pudding?’
He pushed his plate away and nodded. So far he hadn’t said a word about Jimmy. Daisy wanted to ask but didn’t want to provoke a row. Stan Bishop was usually fairly easy going, but he was capable of losing his temper if things didn’t go his way. And it had been at his insistence that Jimmy had been evacuated with the other boys from his school, despite Dora’s pleading to let him stay.
Stan had accused her of being too soft. ‘You gotta cut the apron strings some time,’ he’d said. ‘He’ll be starting work in a year or two, nearly a man.’
When Dora had served Daisy’s meal she said, ‘I’ve saved some for Jimmy. Poor lad’s still sleeping, half-starved and exhausted he was.’
Daisy glanced at her father to see his reaction. To her surprise he nodded and his lips tightened, but instead of berating Dora for mollycoddling the boy he said, ‘If I could get my hands on those b....’
‘Now then, Stan. No need to swear,’ Dora interrupted.
‘He should have written and told us. I would’ve been up there and dragged him home like a shot.’
‘He said he did write but we never got a letter after that first one saying what a good place it was and how he liked being in the country.’ Dora choked back a sob. ‘He said he begged us to fetch him home.’
‘They must have read the letters and not sent them.’ Daisy turned to her father. ‘You’re going to let him stay then, Dad?’
‘Course I am. What do you think? And if that WVS woman comes round here saying he’ll be safer in the country, I’ll give her a piece of my mind.’ He finished his food and stood up. ‘I’m off to the allotment.’
Daisy got her coat. ‘I’m off too.’
When they reached the High Street, they joined the human tide of dockyard workers going back for the afternoon shift. Many were on bicycles, others walking, a familiar sight for Daisy ever since she was a child.
Some of the men waved and called out greetings to Stan and Daisy wondered if he missed the work, although he seemed to have adapted well to his enforced retirement. Only a slight limp now betrayed the accident that had caused it. He had recovered well but was no longer strong enough for the heavy work that his job had entailed.
In the past, when Dad had been on a long shift with no time to come home for dinner, Daisy and Jimmy would often take him a packet of sandwiches. She had always loved going into the Dockyard and seeing the huge ships in the dry dock, the clanging of hammers and the smells of hot tar and paint as the men swarmed over the hulls repairing and painting. Nowadays, no one could get near the place without a pass.
At the entrance to the allotments, Daisy said goodbye to her father.
‘I’ll come and meet you from work,’ he said. ‘Don’t want you walking home on your own late at night.’
‘I’ll be all right, Dad. You worry too much.’ As she turned away, she said, ‘I’m glad Jimmy’s staying.’
Stan grinned. ‘I didn’t think you missed him, always saying how annoying he was, pestering you.’
‘I did actually,’ Daisy said with a laugh. But the laugh turned to a sob. ‘I feel sick at the thought of...’
Stan patted her arm. ‘Don’t fret, love. He’s home now. Your mum will feed him up. He’ll be all right – soon be back to being your annoying little brother. Now, get along to work.’ He laughed. ‘And I wouldn’t say no to more of that cake now we’ve an extra mouth to feed.’
‘Shsh, Dad, you’ll get me into trouble,’ she whispered.
But he just grinned and she hurried away, her stomach churning. Dad’s jokey words had revived her worries about the goings on in the NAAFI. Were her work mates stealing food and other goods? Since rationing had started earlier in the year a thriving black market had sprung up. Her mother wouldn’t have anything to do with it but she knew others were not so scrupulous.
Daisy showed her pass at the garrison gate and dismissed the thought from her mind. She just hoped that neither June nor Lily were involved anything dodgy. But who could she trust?
Chapter Seven
Daisy’s shift passed without incident – at least she wasn’t aware of anything untoward. Besides, she was too busy to worry about what her colleagues were up to.
When there was a lull in the never-ending queue of soldiers and sailors all jostling for her attention, she managed to grab a cup of tea and a brief sit-down. Lily joined her and she told her friend about Jimmy’s adventures.
‘I don’t blame him for wanting to come home,’ she said. ‘My mum missed the little ones so much when they were evacuated, she went down and fetched them home. They tried to make her send them back, but she wasn’t having none of it. No bombs, she told them, so why should I send them away. They need their mum, that’s what she said.’ Lily took a swig of her tea and banged the cup down on the table, showing her annoyance at those people in authority.
Daisy nodded agreement. But she couldn’t help thinking it was a bit hard on Lily, who often spent her free time looking after the little ones when her mother was at work in a local pub while Mr Scott had shift work at the gas works. Still, after what happened to Jimmy she wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting to keep their children at home. She might feel differently if enemy bombers started to come over but until then...
She finished her tea and left Lily to finish her break. Back behind the counter, she tried not to worry about Jimmy and how the abuse he had suffered would affect him. Still, he was home safe now. But there were other things on her mind. Aside from her concerns about Jimmy, there was her suspicion of wrongdoing at work. And then there was Bob. What was happening to him?
Her sombre mood lightened a little when Lofty, the despatch rider, came in. He took his motorcycle helmet off and leaned on the counter, watching as she filled his cup from the tea urn and put one of the rock buns the assistant chef had made earlier on a plate.
‘Thanks sweetheart,’ he said with a grin.
‘I’m not your sweetheart,’ she retorted.
‘Ah, but wouldn’t you like to be?’
She shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t like Lofty to be so cheeky. He was usually so quiet. Perhaps he felt braver with none of his pals around. Still, why not have a laugh and a joke with him, even flirt a little?
‘How do you know I haven’t already got a boy friend?’ A picture of Bob flashed through her mind. But he was far away – and he hadn’t written.
‘Well, I saw you at the pictures with your work mates,’ Lofty said. ‘Girls don’t go out with other girls if there’s a lad to take them.’
She tilted h
er head. ‘Are you offering?’
He was about to answer when the door burst open and three soldiers came in, laughing and pushing each other. ‘Hey, Lofty,’ one of them called out. ‘What’re you up to, sweet talking the ladies?’
He flushed bright red and picked up his tea and cake, pushing past the newcomers to find a table.
They continued to tease him. ‘Dark horse, that one. Thought he was too shy to talk to the girls,’ another one said.
Daisy felt sorry for him. She had noticed that he didn’t often join in the banter with the others. He was always the quiet one and she thought he was just shy. She had been surprised that he seemed to be flirting with her today. She didn’t really mind. In fact, she’d been on the point of agreeing to go out with him – if he’d had the chance to ask her.
She liked his polite reserve, although she had enjoyed the banter. He was a different person when he was on his own. And he wasn’t bad looking either, with his mop of dark curls which even the severe Army haircut had failed to tame.
She glanced across at him but he dropped his gaze and she busied herself with the tea urn and giving change. She laughed at the teasing of the lads who crowded the counter – Jock and Taffy and one they called Swede. They all had nicknames and she was getting to know them. She joined in with their banter, giving as good as she got. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Lofty, wondering if he’d really been on the verge of asking her out. Would she accept if he did? Don’t be daft, she told herself. You don’t even know his real name.
Towards the end of her shift her feet were hurting and she kept glancing at the clock. Although she usually enjoyed her work, tonight she just wanted to get home. She was concerned about Jimmy and still wasn’t sure if her father would let him stay or insist that he went back to Wales. Mum’ll talk him round though, she thought.
At last the hands of the clock moved round to ten o’clock and she closed the till. There were only three customers left and she shooed them out with a laugh. Lofty must have left earlier. She had been so busy she hadn’t seen him go. She locked the door and took the money drawer out, carried it through to the office. Mrs Green was there going through the accounts.
Daisy's War Page 5
