‘Name?’ one of the harassed-looking women said shortly as John and Sunday entered the room.
‘John Willerby.’ John’s eyes scanned the rows of children, wondering which two were the ones he had come for.
‘Ah yes, here we are,’ the woman answered as she quickly read down a list on the clipboard she was clutching. ‘You’re down to take two children. We thought you could take Bobby and Peggy Walker.’ She led them across the room, weaving through a throng of people until they came to two children sitting silently and clutching each other’s hands. It was so loud that the woman could barely make herself heard, but she smiled kindly at the children when they reached them.
‘This is Mr Willerby who you’ll be staying with, children,’ she informed them and Sunday almost gasped with dismay. They were so small, more like a four- and a five-year-old, and they were painfully thin. Most of the children were carrying small cardboard suitcases but these two had a torn paper carrier bag with string handles that was clearly all they had brought between them. The little girl looked absolutely terrified, while the boy was glaring at John guardedly.
‘I ain’t going wiv him!’ Bobby said instantly. ‘He’s an old geezer!’
‘Bobby, how dare you be so rude!’ the woman gasped but John merely laughed.
‘You’re quite right, Bobby,’ he agreed. ‘I am an old geezer, but I have a nice warm house and I promise I’ll take very good care of you and your sister.’
Sunday held her breath as she watched for the child’s reaction. Bobby was clearly the older of the two but although he might be small for his age, she noted he certainly wasn’t afraid to say what he thought. She could see head lice running across the parting in his hair and her hands itched to scrub him clean.
‘S’pose we’ll ’ave to come wiv yer then,’ he said resignedly, for all the world as if he were doing John a great favour. ‘But just fer a little while!’ And now the corners of Sunday’s mouth twitched too.
‘So, is she yer wife then?’ Bobby stabbed a grubby finger towards her.
John shook his head. ‘No, Bobby. Mrs Branning is just a very good friend of mine. She lives close to me so you’ll no doubt be seeing a lot of her during your stay. But come along, I believe my cook has a nice hot meal waiting for you.’
John duly signed the necessary forms and once he had gently ushered the children from the hall and they approached his car, still clutching each other’s hands, Bobby’s mouth gaped open, making him look like a goldfish.
‘Cor, is this yours?’ he croaked incredulously. ‘I ain’t never ’ad a ride in a motor car before!’ And when John nodded, he smiled for the first time since their introduction. ‘Blimey, are yer rich or sommat?’
‘Comfortable,’ John assured him as he lifted Peggy into the back of the car and placed a rug across her skinny knees. He noticed that her stick-like legs were covered in bruises and wondered how she had got them.
Once they were on their way, Bobby couldn’t stop smiling, which John took as an encouraging sign, and when they drove down the drive leading to Treetops Bobby’s eyes were on stalks as he asked, ‘Which part o’ this ’ouse is yours?’
‘All of it,’ John answered and just for a moment Bobby was rendered speechless. He could hardly believe the size of the house or the vast green expanse of lawn. And the fields, which held grazing sheep and cows, were the first he had ever seen, apart from dead ones hanging in the butcher’s shop window. He had been brought up in the heart of the East End in a tiny terraced house with not a tree in sight and suddenly he felt as if he had entered another world, not that he would have admitted it.
Both Edith and Cook had been watching for them from the hall window and by the time John drew the car to a halt they were outside the front door on the steps, waiting to greet them with broad smiles on their faces.
‘Welcome to Treetops, children,’ Edith said as the two little ones clambered out of the car.
‘I’ve got a lovely meal all ready for you,’ Cook told them with a welcoming smile. ‘Come on through to the kitchen.’ She and Edith had thought that perhaps the new arrivals would feel more comfortable in there for now, rather than putting them in the formal dining room.
Soon the children were seated at the large, scrubbed oak table tucking into a roast-beef dinner as if they had never seen food before. In fact, Bobby was stuffing his mouth so full that he was making himself heave. It was almost as if he was fearful someone was going to snatch it away from him. It was the same when Cook served them jam roly-poly and custard and, as she and Edith stood at the sink, she shook her head sadly.
‘Poor little souls,’ she said. ‘Just look at the state of ’em. I reckon we’re goin’ to have us hands full wi’ this pair, or with the little lad, at least. The girl seems quieter. In fact, she seems to be jumpin’ at her own shadow, the poor little mite.’
Edith nodded in agreement but wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Never having had children she was more than ready to take them under her wing. She and her husband had dreamed of having a large family when they had first married but, sadly, he had been killed in an accident down the pit shortly after their first wedding anniversary. Soon after she had gone to work for John Willerby and his wife and that had been the end of her dreams of becoming a mother. Now she leaned towards Sunday and whispered, ‘They both look like they could do with a good bath but what are we going to dress them in? The few things they’ve brought with them are little more than rags.’
Sunday smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. Up in the loft there should still be some trunks full of clothes that belonged to the children who lived here with me and Tom. That’s if John hasn’t thrown them out but I doubt he would have. There’s bound to be something to fit them until John can get them some new things. Once they’ve finished eating, we’ll go up and have a look, if you like, while John shows them round.’
She and Edith set off for the attics and half an hour later came back downstairs laden down with clothes that looked as if they might fit the new arrivals.
‘Just look at this,’ Edith said gleefully as she held up a little tartan kilt with a matching red jumper. ‘Isn’t it just the cutest thing you ever saw? I reckon little Peggy is going to look a treat in this. And there are some long trousers here for Bobby an’ all. Poor little soul must be frozen in those old shorts he’s got on.’
Cook winked at Sunday over Edith’s shoulder. She had an idea that Edith was going to love looking after the children and she had to admit that they had helped to lift the air of gloom that had settled over the house since the war was announced.
‘Right, so all you have to do now is persuade the boyo into the bath,’ she said with an amused twinkle in her eye. ‘An’ all I can say is, rather you than me!’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Going on Sunday’s advice, Edith didn’t even attempt to bath the children until it was close to their bedtime.
‘If you do, you’ll only highlight to them that you think they’re dirty,’ Sunday said wisely and Edith was happy to listen. After all, Sunday had had far more experience of caring for children than she had.
Sunday had kindly come back to help as bedtime approached, guessing that Edith might have trouble on her hands and in a very short time she was proved to be right.
‘If you fink I’m gerrin’ in there you’ve got anovver fink comin’!’ Bobby announced after being led to the bathroom and eyeing the steamy suds. He had never been fully immersed in water as far as he could remember and had no intention of doing it now.
‘But you’ll feel so much better when you’ve had a bath,’ Edith coaxed. ‘And just look at these lovely warm pyjamas you can put on when you get out.’
Bobby stood his ground, planting his legs apart and crossing his skinny arms as he glared at her, so Sunday tried another approach.
‘Well, that’s a shame. We’ll have to bath Peggy first then, so she’ll get the first warm jam tarts straight out of the oven, oh, and her cup of cocoa too, of course.’
‘What?’ Bobby’s ears pricked up as his mouth watered. ‘Warm jam tarts?’
Sunday nodded. ‘Yes, being as it’s your first night here Cook thought she’d spoil you, but if you don’t want any it doesn’t matter.’
He seemed to weigh things up in his mind before saying reluctantly, ‘All right then, I’ll gerrin, but only if you two go outta the room while I get undressed!’
‘Of course,’ Sunday took Edith’s elbow and led her out onto the landing and soon they heard a shout as Bobby stepped into the water.
‘Bleedin’ ’ell! This water is too hot! Are yer tryin’ to scald me?’
The two women went back into him and the smiles died on their faces as they saw the bruises all across his small body.
‘How did you get these?’ Sunday asked gently as, much to Bobby’s disgust, she began to scrub his lank, mousy-coloured hair with a bar of carbolic soap.
His lips set in a mutinous line and he remained obstinately silent. When his hair was thoroughly washed, Sunday took a fine-toothed nit comb from her pocket and began to rake it through as he protested loudly.
‘’Ere! I never said yer could do that! Gerroff me,’ he shouted.
‘The quieter you sit the sooner it will be done,’ Sunday informed him firmly and to her surprise he became still, although he was cursing the whole time beneath his breath. ‘There,’ she said eventually, shocked to see how many nits she had dragged from his hair. ‘Me and Edith will go out onto the landing now if you want to get dried. You can put those clean pyjamas on then.’
She and Edith walked sedately from the room and when he joined them, he was almost unrecognisable. He had looked dark before but now his skin glowed pink and instead of lying flat against his head his hair – which they had thought was dark – had turned fair and was already beginning to spring into little waves.
While Edith took Bobby downstairs for the treats he had been promised, Sunday went through the process again with Peggy, but thankfully she proved to be much more amenable and hardly moved throughout the whole procedure.
‘Why, you look just like a little angel,’ Edith declared when Sunday led her downstairs sometime later in the pretty nightgown they had found for her. Edith made to cuddle the child only for the little girl to cringe away from her and run to her brother.
‘You keep yer ’ands off ’er,’ Bobby warned as he hugged his little sister protectively and Edith looked so hurt that Sunday was afraid she might burst into tears. It was a situation she had come across many times during the years she had cared for children and she squeezed Edith’s hand reassuringly.
‘Just give them a little time,’ she whispered. ‘They have to learn to trust you.’
Edith blinked back tears. ‘I hope they do,’ she responded.
Soon after, Sunday glanced at the clock and sighed. ‘I shall have to get back now,’ she told Edith regretfully. ‘Do you think you’ll manage?’
‘O’ course I shall,’ Edith told her. ‘I’ve already sorted some story books out for when I tuck ’em in. Kids like a bedtime story, don’t they? I’ve sorted out two bedrooms next door to each other as well, so they don’t feel too isolated from each other.’
Sunday smiled her approval and after saying goodnight to the children she set off back to the lodge to tell Kathy and Livvy all about the new arrivals. It had been nice to see children in Treetops again and she had an idea Edith was going to take to being a foster mum like a duck to water.
Back in Treetops, Edith’s next problem came when she led the children up to bed. Their eyes grew round when she showed them into Peggy’s room. Decorated in shades of soft green with a thick, warm carpet on the floor and a cosy fire burning in the grate, it was the prettiest room they had ever seen. The children seemed more than a little impressed with it but when she came to coax Bobby into taking a peep at his room, he planted his feet apart and glared at her.
‘We sleep togevver!’ he declared, placing his arm about his little sister’s waist.
‘But I have the room next door all ready for you,’ Edith told him just as John entered the room.
‘Do we have a problem?’ he asked with a wink at Bobby who was looking very rebellious.
‘Yeah, we do, mister,’ he answered stubbornly. ‘She wants us to sleep in different rooms but we allus sleep togevver!’
‘Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt just until you feel a bit more comfortable with things,’ John agreed amiably with a smile at Edith. ‘It’s a nice big bed so there’s plenty of room for the both of you. What do you think, Edith?’
‘I suppose so,’ she answered hesitantly and instantly the two children hopped into bed and pulled the blankets up to their chins, staring at the two adults warily. ‘Would you like me to read you a story?’ Edith asked, advancing on them with a book in her hand, but Bobby shook his head.
‘We ain’t babies, yer know … But yer could leave it ’ere fer us to look at the pictures, I s’pose.’
Edith gently placed the book on the bed and backed away, as did John.
‘Right, children, we’ll see you in the morning,’ he said kindly at the door. ‘Do you both like bacon and eggs? Our chickens lay delicious eggs. Oh, and I have to say Cook’s porridge is very good as well, if you prefer that.’
Both children nodded vigorously, and the adults quietly left the room.
‘Poor little mites,’ Edith said softly once they were out on the landing. ‘Peggy seems scared of everything, and I don’t know what Bobby thinks we’re going to do to her, but he hardly lets her out of his sight.’
‘I think it would be safe to say they’re both used to being knocked about, if the bruises all over them are anything to go by,’ John answered solemnly. ‘But give them a little time and patience and with fresh air and good food inside them they might come out of their shells.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ she said as she left him to return to the kitchen.
Later, she peeped in the bedroom to check on them and smiled to see them curled up together, snoring gently in the big feather bed. They looked so innocent that it brought a lump to her throat as she gently closed the door and crept away.
The next morning, dressed in the clothes Sunday and Edith had sorted for them, the two children were almost unrecognisable and once more they tucked into their food as if they hadn’t eaten for a month.
Giles, who had been busy working in the stables when they arrived, watched with amusement.
‘So, who are you then?’ Bobby asked in his own blunt way. ‘Do yer work ’ere?’
‘Well, yes I do, but I live here as well,’ Giles told him good-naturedly. ‘This is my grandfather’s house, but I run the stables.’
‘Do you ’ave any horses ’ere?’ Bobby asked, spooning yet more porridge into his mouth. He was like a bottomless pit when it came to food.
‘Yes, quite a number of them, although I don’t know for how long now that we’re at war,’ Giles answered glumly.
‘So, can I see ’em when we’ve finished eatin’? I like animals. We’ve gorra dog back at ’ome called Skippy!’ Bobby’s eyes were glowing with excitement. The only horses he’d ever seen before were the cart horses that delivered the milk. He had quite a nice little sideline going, following them about to pick up their mess before selling it to people to put on their roses, not that many people had roses where he lived.
‘Of course you can see them,’ Giles agreed and to his amusement Bobby began to eat even faster.
‘They’ve eaten more than Mr Willerby an’ Giles put together,’ the cook chuckled once Giles had led them away. ‘Not that I’m complainin’, mind. It’s nice to cook for someone with a hearty appetite.’
Edith nodded in agreement. She was going to visit the school in Church Road in the village later that morning to try and get the children enrolled there and she wondered how they would take to it. If she didn’t miss her guess, the teachers would have their hands full with Bobby, but hopefully they’d settle in soon enough.
Chapter T
wenty-Four
Over the next few days Bobby followed Giles about like a little shadow. Edith had managed to secure the children a place at the village school and they were due to start there the following week but until then Bobby adored being in the stables and despite his earlier misgivings about having children at Treetops, Giles seemed to have taken to them.
Edith was in her element too. Peggy slowly seemed to be coming out of her shell, but Bobby still wouldn’t trust her with anyone other than Cook and Edith, so she now spent most of the time in the kitchen with them, while Bobby himself was off with Giles and the horses.
‘So, do you help your mammy with the cooking?’ Cook asked one morning as she and Peggy stood at the kitchen table. Cook was making a fruit pie and had given Peggy a little pastry to roll out.
Peggy frowned. ‘Me ma don’t cook,’ she said matter-of-factly.
‘Oh, so what do you eat then?’
Peggy shrugged her slight shoulders. Already a little colour was creeping into her cheeks, but she was still painfully thin. ‘We just ’as bread an’ drippin’, or sometimes Ma gets us a pie on ’er way ’ome from work.’
‘Oh yes and what sort of work does your ma do?’
Peggy frowned. ‘I ain’t sure. She goes out at night a lot an’ comes ’ome late usually but I don’t know what she does.’
‘And what about your dad? What does he do?’
‘’E goes to the pub when ma comes ’ome wi’ any money, but I don’t fink ’e goes to work,’ the child said innocently.
Sunday breezed into the kitchen then and the conversation came to an end.
She smiled at Peggy. ‘Good morning, everyone. Did you have a good night’s sleep, Peggy?’
‘She had a bit of a bad dream and I had to go into her,’ Edith answered for the child. ‘But you were all right once I’d tucked you in, weren’t you, pet?’ she said to the child.
Time to Say Goodbye Page 14
