Nell bristled, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up.
‘There it is again,’ said Millie, and this time Rob heard it too. A scuffling – too big for a vole or weasel.
‘I told you there was a ghost,’ she whispered in fright.
‘It’s only the wind in the trees.’ Rob pointed to the window. ‘See? The branches of that bush are tapping against the glass.’
‘If it’s the ghost soldier walking, then maybe he’ll be kind and look after Sandy,’ said Millie.
‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ Rob said, ‘but it’s time to go home anyway.’
As he propped the piece of wood against the door to secure it, something occurred to him. He looked at the plank in his hand. When they’d arrived, Millie had been ahead of him. She’d had to step over it . . . it had being lying on the ground – the same piece of wood he’d used to bar the door when they’d brought the pup to the shed. Over the last day and night the wind hadn’t been strong enough to dislodge the plank. Rob saw that Nell’s tail was up, her ears forward; she was casting about. If the noise they’d heard was only the wind, why then was she on alert?
Had someone been inside the shed?
Were they still around, spying on them?
Rob called Nell to him. ‘Come here, girl. Stay by Millie,’ he commanded. ‘Stay close.’
His dog understood his intention. While he took hold of one of his sister’s hands, Nell went to her other side. With Millie guarded between them, they made their way through the trees. Rob steadfastly refused to look at the front of the house.
When they were clear of the wood and safely on the pasture land Rob glanced back. There was nothing to be seen. No figure following behind. Nobody spying on them. Only the movement of lengthening shadows as the sun set, a fiery ball in the sky.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EARLY NEXT MORNING Rob ran to Glebe Farm to refill their milk churn.
‘No more hospital trains have been through.’ Farmer Gordon winked at him. ‘I know you’re on the lookout for them so I’m keeping my eyes open too.’
‘Kenneth’s dad works on the railways,’ Rob told him, ‘and he said he’d tip us off when the next one’s due.’
‘That’s the type of friend that’s handy to have. Although . . . it bears fruit to remember that friends come in all sorts of shapes and sizes.’ Mr Gordon’s gaze took in the manure pile where Jed was raking the muck into heaps.
Jed? Rob looked at the farmer. He surely couldn’t mean that Jed might be a friend . . . Jed wasn’t friendly to anyone. He was a big bully, and everyone stayed away from him.
‘There’s been railway workers busy down in the valley,’ Farmer Gordon went on. ‘Come and I’ll show you.’
As the farmer walked out of the farm gate, Jed made a rude gesture behind his back. Typical of him to do something like that, Rob thought. Jed wasn’t even grateful to the Gordons for the agreement they’d made with his mother. Jed’s dad had died in a farm accident, but his mother lived on rent-free in one of the farm workers’ cottages as long as Jed worked a certain number of hours on the farm. There were six in his family, and Jed was the eldest at home as his elder sister was a maid in service in Edinburgh. But Mr and Mrs Gordon arranged Jed’s work time so that he could still go to school and get an education. Seeing Rob’s disapproving look, Jed stuck out his tongue, pointed at him and then made donkey ears by flapping his hands on top of his head. When Nell stopped and took a step towards him, Jed hurriedly picked up the shovel he’d thrown down. Rob stuck out his own tongue at Jed and then whistled to his dog to follow on after him.
‘They’ve almost finished constructing a water tank alongside the track,’ Mr Gordon said.
From the top of the hill Rob could see the tank with its hose in place. His spirits lifted. This meant that there would definitely be more trains, and they would all stop in the valley to take on water. Rob wished with all his heart and soul that on one of these trains there would be someone who could give him news about his father.
Millie was already waiting for him when he got back with the milk. She put her finger to her lips. ‘Mummy’s still sleeping. I filled the water bottle and the bag with straw and food for Sandy.’
‘Good girl. You really are growing up, Millie.’
Basking in his praise, his sister skipped ahead of him to the house in the woods. Their visit that morning was rushed, but Rob had enough time to notice that the piece of wood was across the door, in the position where he’d placed it the night before. Perhaps it had been an animal that had disturbed it the previous time . . . or maybe whoever had moved it was taking more care in how they replaced it . . .
Later, in school, Rob was labouring over a page of hard sums when the school janitor opened the classroom door.
‘Begging your pardon, Miss Finlay, but there’s a gentleman here who wishes to speak to you.’
The children stopped working.
‘Mr Ronald!’ Miss Finlay spoke severely. ‘I am attempting to teach these children long division. You shouldn’t interrupt me in the middle of a lesson.’
‘The gentleman is an army officer, and what with there being a war on, I thought . . .’ Mr Ronald stepped aside as a tall man in British Army uniform entered the classroom.
He marched over to Miss Finlay’s desk and executed a full military salute. ‘Lieutenant Polden, at your service. Please excuse the intrusion, ma’am. I came to ask permission to use some of the school facilities. I’ll wait for the end of the lesson before speaking to you.’
Miss Finlay dropped the stick of chalk she was holding and her face went pink. ‘I – I—’ she stammered.
It was the first time Rob had ever seen his teacher lost for words.
The officer saluted again, turned on his heel and made for the door.
‘Wait!’ Miss Finlay called after him. ‘Do please speak to me if you wish. I didn’t appreciate the importance of the interruption. It’s . . . it’s . . . well, arithmetic is needed in every walk of life, and the children have to be educated, and . . .’
‘Absolutely true,’ Lieutenant Polden agreed. He faced the class. ‘Boys and girls! Pay attention to your teacher. Arithmetic is very important. If you can’t count, you can’t do anything. Your country needs young men and women who can add up a column of figures. How would I know how many men I had if I couldn’t count them?’ he demanded. ‘Arithmetic is a good thing to learn, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir!’ Rob and his classmates chorused.
The lieutenant picked up the chalk Miss Finlay had dropped and handed it to her. ‘I’ll leave you to carry on your work here. Perhaps I could have a word with you at lunch time?’ And he strode out of the classroom.
‘Er . . .’ Miss Finlay looked at the blackboard as if she didn’t actually recognize what it was. ‘Er . . . that’s right,’ she said to the class. ‘Do as the officer says. Carry on with your work. I’ll go and have a word with Lieutenant Polden while you do the rest of your sums. No talking while I’m gone,’ she added as she left the room.
‘Did you see? He had a medal on his chest.’
‘It was the Victoria Cross!’
Rob and his friends were whispering as soon as the door closed behind their teacher.
‘There was a pistol at his belt.’
‘He’s a lieutenant. They always carry handguns.’
The girls were giggling at Miss Finlay blushing. ‘Do you think she’s fallen in love with him?’ Kate Ward asked.
‘She’s definitely in love with him,’ said her friend, Beth Halliday. ‘His face went red too when he saw her. He must have fallen in love with her at first sight.’
‘That’s rubbish!’ said Kenneth. ‘Soldiers don’t have time for silly things like love. They’re too busy fighting a war.’
‘Well, I think it would be good if Lieutenant Polden had fallen in love with our teacher,’ Kate argued back, her eyes blazing with sudden passion. ‘He could comfort Miss Finlay in her sadness at losing her father.’
&nb
sp; In a moment of insight Rob glimpsed her grief – Kate’s father was one of the recent dead. He nodded in agreement, and was rewarded with a smile.
The class snapped into silence as Miss Finlay opened the door. ‘Lieutenant Polden has requested that his men be allowed to use the school facilities while they are in the village today. We’re going to cut lessons this morning, and have an early lunch break. Then, in the afternoon, we will go to the park and see the soldiers on parade.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘ATTENSHUN!’
‘Right turn!’
‘Forward march!’
Instead of keeping to the usual straggling line when out on a nature ramble, the boys had formed themselves into ranks to parade through the village to the park. Miss Finlay let them march ahead, shouting out military drill commands to each other. When they arrived in the park, they swarmed among the army tables and tents.
Straw men dressed in German Army uniforms were hanging from some of the trees. The soldiers invited anyone passing to have a go at charging the enemy. Jed was first to grab the rifle with bayonet attached.
‘Get a grip on that, son. You stick him good and proper.’
Jed lunged at the straw man with such force that the blade of the bayonet ripped open the cloth tunic.
‘Well done!’ The soldier pulled a handful of straw out of the slashed opening and threw it down on the grass. ‘Let his blood and guts run out. And if he squeals for mercy, don’t you listen to him. Finish him off.’ He took the bayonet from Jed and plunged it into the neck of the straw man. ‘Like this!’
Rob’s stomach contracted. He put his hands to his mouth to hold in the sick rising in his throat.
‘How old are you, boy?’ he heard the soldier ask Jed.
‘Nearly thirteen. But I look older.’
‘You do, my son. You definitely do. You’re a big lad. And the army needs big brave lads like you.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘The recruiting wagon will be here soon. When it comes along, you add a few years onto your age. Before you know it, you’ll have your uniform and your own gun and be ready to fight for King and Country.’
Jed marched off, his chest puffed out with pride.
The paved area round the bandstand had been cordoned off for demonstrations of parade ground drilling. Most of Rob’s classmates rooted around in the bushes to find sticks to serve as guns so that they could copy the marching formations. Rob and Kenneth made for the place where Lieutenant Polden was supervising soldiers digging a trench.
‘It’s got to be a certain shape,’ the lieutenant told the boys. ‘It’s dug in a zigzag pattern for a special reason. If the enemy manage to get through the wire and into a trench to fire at us, we can hide round the corner. If they throw one of their stick grenades, then the blast won’t go all the way down the trench, as it would if the trench was a straight line.’
‘Do we have stick grenades?’ asked Kenneth.
‘We’ve got our Mills bombs, which soldiers carry on their belts. But our lads fight hard to discourage them from coming a-calling,’ Lieutenant Polden said staunchly. ‘The British Army holds the line.’
He let the boys into the trench so that they could be soldiers holding the line. Rob wondered if that was what his dad had been doing before he went missing – ‘holding the line’.
The soldiers set up box periscopes so that the villagers could stand on the fire step and look out into no-man’s-land without being seen. Rob could see the schoolhouse and the post office. But that’s not what his dad would be seeing. On the hospital train Jack had mentioned barbed wire and land mines.
‘How do the soldiers make an advance?’ Rob asked.
‘Oh, it’s a big excitement. The men are fighting fit, every one prepared to do his duty. The rum ration is doled out. The whistle blows. Up the ladder and off we go!’
‘Aren’t they waiting for us with their guns ready?’
‘Our artillery at the rear will have been lobbing shells over our heads at their positions for days ahead of any advance. That softens them up for us to go forward and sort out any that are still lurking there.’
‘What if they’ve been hiding? What if—’
‘Excuse me.’ Lieutenant Polden had seen Miss Finlay standing at the mess tent with a group of her girl pupils. ‘I think I might go and discuss army cooking with your teacher.’
Rob doubted whether he was really interested in cooking – it was just a pretence so that he could chat to Miss Finlay. Once that happened he wouldn’t be able to ask the lieutenant any more questions. But Rob had reckoned without Millie, who’d seen him with the lieutenant and come to join him. She followed as they walked towards the mess tent. ‘Our dad is missing. Nobody knows where he is. We’re worried about him.’
‘Try not to worry. Lots of men go missing in war. It doesn’t always mean that they’ve been killed.’
Rob felt his heart lift. Usually people shook their head when they heard that his mother had been sent a telegram by the War Office.
‘Would you know where our dad could be?’ Millie asked.
‘Do you know the name of his regiment? What battalion? His last posting?’
Lieutenant Polden was surprised and pleased to find that Rob could recite all the details. ‘Your pupil is very knowledgeable,’ he said as he approached Miss Finlay.
‘Rob’s granddad was in the army,’ she said. ‘His family has a proud tradition of soldiering.’
‘I’ll try to find out any information I can,’ said Lieutenant Polden. ‘It will give me an opportunity to come by this way again’ – he glanced at Miss Finlay – ‘I’m happy to say.’
Millie nudged Rob as Miss Finlay’s face turned pink again.
Outside the mess tent, huge pots of food were simmering over braziers. The children and villagers lined up to sample ‘battle rations’, with the soldiers ladling out plates of stew.
‘I wish Mummy was here,’ said Millie. ‘The lovely smell of the food might have made her eat something.’
Miss Finlay glanced at Millie and at Jed, who was now on his third plateful of stew and potatoes.
She murmured something to Lieutenant Polden, who beckoned to Rob and Jed. ‘We always give out rations to our most promising recruits at the end of the day.’ He handed them each a bag containing tins of milk and bully beef. Rob noticed that Jed got the bigger bag. Jed was often disruptive in class, getting up from his seat and not doing what he was told; Miss Finlay frequently sent him to stand in the corridor for ten minutes. Yet his bag had more tins in it than Rob’s. Sometimes Rob couldn’t understand the way adults’ minds worked.
Lieutenant Polden removed the cordon from the makeshift parade ground so that the soldiers could march around the village. Off they went, through the park, past the church and post office, round the schoolhouse and back again.
Rob saw a woman coming from the post office. As the marching ranks of men came down the street towards her, she put her shawl over her head, took her young children by the hand, and hurried away. It was Kate’s mother. Rob remembered that her husband’s name was one of the ones he had called out from the casualty list.
The soldiers began to sing:
‘It’s a long way to Tipperary, it’s a long way to go . . .’
Rob knew it was meant to be a cheerful marching song, but suddenly it seemed terribly sad.
In the darkening evening the flames of the fires sent sparks into the sky. The moon was rising – a harvest moon. His dad was somewhere under the same sky and the same moon. Rob wondered if he was thinking of them and how they might be coping with him not at home.
Miss Finlay was beside Lieutenant Polden. Her head was on a level with his shoulder and she was looking up into his face to hear what he was saying. Rob had seen that expression before. The day his father had left to go to war, they’d stood in the front yard waving him off. He’d kissed Rob’s mother and Millie over and over. He’d shaken Rob’s hand firmly, but then, impulsively, pulled him towards him in a fierce hug. As his
father reached the end of the lane, his mother had run after him. Brimming with love, she’d turned her face up to his for one last kiss. Maybe the girls were right. Maybe Miss Finlay was falling in love with Lieutenant Polden.
Rob moved on. He called to Millie that it was almost time to go home. Then he saw an officer’s dugout with a desk and a map spread out on it. It showed Britain and France and Belgium and Germany. Millie caught sight of Pearl and Daisy in the crowds and ran off to play with them. Rob went inside the dugout to examine the map. He traced his finger all the way down through England and across the Channel to France. Where was his dad? Would he ever see him again?
If the Germans had advanced, his dad might have been captured. Rob hoped that the German soldiers would be nice to him. If he hadn’t been captured, perhaps he’d been in a British advance and got trapped behind the German line? Maybe, even now, he was trying to escape and make his way back to his base? France and Germany were so big compared to Britain. Someone could easily get lost, especially if the land was churned up with hundreds of bombs and shells exploding. But his dad was very experienced at travelling through the countryside in the worst of conditions. One of Rob’s earliest memories was of being out on the hills with him when unexpected bad weather closed in. His dad had scooped him up and carried him home, cooried in under his shepherd’s plaid, snug against the winter storm. It was to him the sheep farmers came if the weather was bad and ewes went missing during lambing season. His dad was the shepherd who could go with Nell through a blizzard in the dark, find the new-born lambs, dig them out of deep snow and bring them home safe.
Would he be able to bring himself home safely?
Rob jumped as someone placed their hand on his shoulder. He looked up. Miss Finlay was smiling down at him.
‘I’m sure Lieutenant Polden will keep his promise to make enquiries about the movements of the Border Guards over the last months,’ she said. ‘Try to hold on – a little hope is all that’s needed.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BUT WHEN THE next train stopped in Glebe Valley, Rob found it hard to hold onto hope.
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