“Who are they?” she asked.
“Steph and Laurence Graham,” replied Tom. “They moved in just before Christmas. And that’s their daughter Madeline. They were given the house by Steph’s twin uncles, Frank and Harry. My Granddad Charlie used to play with them when he was a kid.”
Patrick leant over and whispered in Katy’s ear. “See, it’s like I told you; our actions have had consequences. Things aren’t the same as they used to be. I just hope we haven’t caused loads of trouble.”
They arrived at Charlie’s house and Tom rushed straight into the hall, calling out, “Granddad, come here. My friends, Patrick and Katy have had an accident.”
Charlie appeared in the kitchen doorway, giving them both a nod of the head and a knowing smile. An enormous sense of relief washed over Katy. Charlie! He was OK! Behind the worn and lined old face they could see the young boy they now knew so well.
“What have you two been up to then? On second thoughts, I don’t want to know. I’ve got some antiseptic cream and cotton wool here – you’ll soon be as good as new. You first, Patrick.”
Katy wandered into the hallway as Patrick followed Charlie into the kitchen. Noticing a new photograph on the side table, she picked it up for a closer look. It showed the Graham family, happily posing outside Willow Dene. As Katy looked more closely she noticed several significant changes. Little Susie wasn’t so little anymore. In this photograph she looked more like seven or eight years old and the twins looked much more mature. Katy turned over the photograph and saw, written in faded blue ink, May Bank Holiday, 1946.
Katy felt herself both welling up with tears and wanting to jump up and down in excitement. They had done it; the past had been rewritten!
Katy rushed back into the kitchen. “Charlie, what happened the night of the bomb?”
Charlie paused, looking pointedly at Katy and Patrick a large smile unfurling on his lips. “Best bit of luck we ever had that was. Just minutes before the bomb landed, the fire alarm in the cinema sounded. Everyone evacuated the building so that when it hit, the cinema was completely empty. There were only two casualties that evening.
“Two evacuees who had been staying with Mrs Graham went missing. They were last seen just before the blast, cycling furiously away from the cinema. Poor kids couldn’t have made it. They must have been caught up in the explosion. No bodies were ever found so no one ever knew for sure what happened them. The war office declared they were missing, presumed dead.”
And with that, he gave them a wink.
Katy and Patrick’s faces broke into huge grins.
“What happened to Mrs Graham, did she make it back safely?” asked Katy.
“Further bit of luck that was. Just as she came round the corner of Victoria Avenue, she caught sight of Susie letting herself out of the front gate and heading off down the road towards the High Street. I dread to think what would have happened if she’d been any later getting back,” said Charlie.
And with a twinkle in his eye he added, “The future might have been very different indeed.”
Katy and Patrick both jumped up and threw their arms around Charlie, cheering with relief.
At that moment, Tom walked into the kitchen, a surprised look on his face. “Eh. . . Have you guys met before? Or am I missing something? Granddad, Mr Dobson is at the front door. He says you’re expecting him.”
“Show him in, Tom. He’s right on time. Mind you, I wouldn’t expect anything else from a master clock maker.”
A tall and very elderly gentleman, with a shock of unruly white hair, walked into the kitchen. He was stooping slightly and leaning on a wooden stick. He smiled warmly at Katy and Patrick as if he knew them, grabbing their hands and shaking them enthusiastically. Katy and Patrick looked at each other uncertainly. Did they know him?
Katy suddenly saw Patrick break into a smile as he said, “I recognise you now. You live on our street! Our mum told us that you used to own the jewellers on the High Street.”
Mr Dobson stepped forward, smiling, whilst reaching into his pocket to pull out two small, rectangular packages. “Please accept these gifts. I made them for you a long time ago, always hoping that one day I could give them to you in person. I was an enemy and a stranger but you showed me great kindness. Katy, I also have this for you.”
He held out a letter that was brown and yellow with age. Katy took it from him. It felt brittle, yet it was clearly addressed to her. With trembling hands, she carefully opened it. She scanned the page quickly. Unbelievably it was a thank you letter from Mr and Mrs Dieter, dated July, 1942.
Katy looked up from the letter and stared at the man in front of her. “Jan, is it really you?” whispered Katy, not quite believing it could be true.
Jan propped his stick against the table and sat down heavily. “Yes, it’s me! Not quite the young pilot you remember. I changed my last name to a more English sounding one after the war.”
“But how come you’re here?” blurted out Patrick, “Why aren’t you in Germany?”
“I worked as a prisoner of war at a local farm. Charlie used to look in on me and check I was OK. We became good friends and he told me all about how you two ended up in Knutsburry. Later he introduced me to his cousin Hillary and we got quite friendly. After the war we married, bought a house in Knutsburry and started a family.”
Katy let out a squeal of delight, jumping up and down. “Hillary’s married with children!”
Jan smiled at Katy and continued. “This town has been very good to me. We had no reason to leave. I’ve been waiting for a very long time for two special people to turn up. I couldn’t risk missing them, not when I had these to give them.”
Katy and Patrick took the two packages that he held out, slowly opening them. Inside, they found two beautiful watches, the leather straps softened with age and the gold mellowed to a soft honey.
“Turn them over,” instructed Jan.
Katy and Patrick both followed Jan’s instructions and discovered inscriptions written on the back.
For kindness to a stranger – May, 1942.
Katy was overwhelmed with emotions. Stuck for words to express how she felt, she leant over and opened her satchel. “I have something belonging to you,” she said, pulling out Jan’s knapsack and handing it to him.
Jan took it, hands shaking, and opened it, amazed to see the contents again after so many years. He flicked through his old logbook, smiling, and then lingered on the picture of his mum and dad before passing the bag back.
“You keep it. But I’ll keep the photo if you don’t mind.”
Katy pulled the charm she had stowed away out of her satchel. “Do you want to take this?”
“Keep it, Katy. I hope the pixie continues to bring you luck. It certainly helped me. It brought you two to me. And now it’s brought you back home safely again.”
“I’ll keep it with me all the time, I promise,” said Katy.
Katy turned her attention back to Jan’s gift. She took off the old watch she had found in the cardigan pocket, its glass face now all cracked and smashed by her fall from the bike. As she slipped it into her pocket she noticed the time had stopped dead at precisely six o’clock when the bomb fell. She carefully put on the watch Jan had made her, lifting up her wrist for everyone to admire.
“How did you know we’d be here? Today of all days?” said Katy.
Charlie and Jan smiled at each other. “We’ve been meeting on the 15th May for years, in memory of the two brave evacuees that went missing on the night of the bombing,” explained Jan. “Which reminds me.”
Mr Dobson fumbled once more in his coat pocket and pulled out a pale pink envelope. “Hillary asked me to give you this.”
Katy tore open the envelope. Inside was a card. Smiling, Katy read it silently.
Dear Katy,
I have so much to thank you for, not least for bringing Jan to me safe and sound. I would love to see you again. Please come to tea next Sunday at three o’clock, we have so much to catch up o
n. Bring Patrick and Charlie. It’ll be the old gang back together again for the first time in so many years. Except this time some of us are a bit older!
With love,
Your dear friend,
Hillary
Xxx
* * * *
Katy and Patrick slowly walked home, too tired to feel really excited or to discuss what had just happened. It was hard to comprehend what they had just been through. They had been gone for over a month but time had stood still while they were away. It appeared as if only an hour of real time had passed since they had said goodbye to Lizzie and fallen asleep on the floor at Willow Dene.
Standing at the bottom of their garden path, they looked up at the familiar front door. “I thought we’d never get back. It’s hard to believe we’re finally home,” said Katy.
“You do realise no one will ever believe us, Katy. It’ll have to stay our secret.”
The front door opened and their mum appeared. “What are you two doing standing down there? In you come – dinner is nearly ready and there’s lots to do to get ready for the start of term in the morning.”
Katy smiled at Patrick. Nothing’s changed here then, she thought affectionately. Surprisingly, she found this was a relief. “We’re coming, Mum,” she called out. They walked up the garden path and back into the warmth of their own home. Katy looked around at their house. They had taken everything for granted before their journey – the phone, the TV. Without thinking she leant forward and gave her mum a kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?” her mum asked, a pleased look on her face.
“Just happy to be home again.”
“You’re a funny one, Katy,” said her mum, smiling and hugging Katy towards her. “You’ve only been out a few hours. Did you get any good pictures for your project? I see you’re still dressed up.”
“What project?” asked Katy, a puzzled look on her face.
Her mum gave her a suspicious look. “Your Home Front project on the war. I thought that’s what you were doing this afternoon.”
It had been so long since Katy had thought about her project that she’d forgotten all about it.
Patrick quickly jumped in. “She’s just being silly, Mum. She got loads of really great stuff – good first-hand information. It really felt like we were back in the 1940s for a while.” He winked at Katy.
“I think I’m going to have a quick bath before dinner,” yawned Katy, suddenly feeling exhausted and desperate to change out of her 1940s clothing.
As she undressed, she found the old, broken watch in her pocket that Lizzie had insisted she had put on, all that time ago. It looked beyond repair to her but perhaps someone could fix it or use the parts. She didn’t need it – not now she had Jan’s beautiful watch to wear. On the landing her mum had placed a box full of odds and ends, to be taken to the charity shop. Katy took one last look at the watch and placed in the box.
After soaking in a very full bubble bath and enjoying her dinner, Katy lay on her bed, chatting nonstop on the phone to Lizzie. “It’s great to talk to you Lizzie – you won’t believe how much I’ve missed you!” said Katy.
“What do you mean you’ve missed me you daft thing? I spent most of the afternoon with you at Willow Dene! What did you get up to after I’d gone?”
“Oh nothing much really, just fell asleep reading some old magazines and listening to the radio. You didn’t miss much,” replied Katy. She realised she was going to have to be a lot more careful with what she said to people. Patrick was right after all – no one would believe them.
* * * *
The next morning was the first day of the new term. Unable to sleep, Katy got up earlier than usual, her stomach full of butterflies. She had a very important meeting at lunchtime. It was still hard to believe it was actually going to happen – she had to pinch herself to check she wasn’t dreaming!
Just as they were leaving Charlie’s house last night, Tom had pulled Katy aside and casually asked her if she would be around at lunchtime and did she want to meet up? Katy had been completely lost for words but had surprisingly managed to stutter, “yes” in reply. They had arranged to meet outside the lunch hall at one o’clock that day. With this happy thought in mind, Katy picked up the old leather satchel, flung it over her shoulder and headed for the bus stop, Patrick once again trailing behind.
The first lesson that morning was History and Mr Oakley would be collecting their completed projects on the Home Front. Katy sighed with dismay. Lizzie had texted Katy that morning to say she was ill and wouldn’t be in school. With all the rush and daydreaming about her rendezvous with Tom, she had forgotten to pick up the interviews they had done from Lizzie on her way in. They would almost certainly fail – and there wasn’t a hope they’d win the competition. Lizzie was going to be furious with Katy.
Just then, someone walked past Katy’s desk and accidently kicked over her satchel. Out fell the journal that Mrs Graham had given her to write in, and Jan’s logbook!
Of course! thought Katy. She picked them up and handed them in to Mr Oakley, along with everyone else.
You can’t get more authentic than that! thought Katy to herself.
For Loll who always believed in K.P.
First published 2015 by
A & C Black, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP
www.bloomsbury.com
Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Copyright © 2015 A & C Black
Text copyright © Margaret Mulligan
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers
A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 4729 0878 0
eISBN 978 1 4729 0879 7
Katy Parker and the House that Cried Page 10
