Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle (97 page)

‘It's not fair. I dunno why I can't go as well.' Roger's voice was childlike, his tone sulky. ‘Why does Betty want to go with you and not me? I'm her husband.'

It irritated Johnnie when Roger behaved like this, but he tried to make allowances for everything he'd been through.

‘Because you and Aunty Clara are keeping an eye on the kids for a change, and my motorbike don't take three.'

‘But I want to go as well.'

‘Too bad,' Johnnie interrupted. ‘I want doesn't always get. Your missus needs a break sometimes, and I'm taking her out so stop bloody moaning on like a sissy.'

As soon as the words were out he felt guilty. ‘Anyway, I've got a job you can do if you want an extra couple of bob; just an hour or so while the kids are at school.'

Roger's face lit up. ‘What's that then?'

‘I'll tell you about it in the morning,' Johnnie replied, giving himself a few hours to think of something that would help his brother-in-law's self-esteem.

A large group of children all aged around ten stood in two raggedy lines. They faced forward obediently and, even though the boys feigned bravado, each and every one of the children was noticeably scared and nervous. Hands and feet fidgeted and eyes either darted around, taking in the unfamiliar scene, or stared down at their shoes.

Ruby Blakeley was in the middle of one line, her small suitcase and gas mask at her feet, tightly holding hands with the equally terrified small girl beside her. Her heart was thumping and tears were threatening to overflow once again from her already red eyes; all she wanted to do was run out of the gates and keep on running until she got back home. What had seemed a bit of an adventure when they had set off for the train station earlier that same morning had quickly turned into a nightmare once the reality of the situation sank in. They were leaving their families, homes and everything familiar to go and live far away with complete strangers.

Once the selection process got underway her thoughts became confused. On the one hand she desperately wanted to be picked, but on the other she didn't want to have to go home with any of the strangers who were milling around the playground, chatting with each other.

As they had neared the village, Mrs Sparrow, one of the accompanying teachers, had stood up at the front of the coach and briefly explained to the thirty children on board exactly what would happen once they had reached their destination.

‘To make sure you all understand I'll repeat everything you were told earlier on the train, so listen very carefully. Those of you with red dots on your labels are getting off at the first village and the other half with blue dots will be taken to the next village with Miss Flynn. The other coaches, with the children who are accompanied by their mothers, have gone elsewhere. We'll be ticking your names off the list as you get off so don't any of you be trying to stay on board if you're in the first group.'

The usually stern teacher smiled down at the sea of small faces to ease the tension and paused while every child looked down at his or her name label.

‘Once you're matched with your host family they'll take you to their home where you're going to live with them until London's safe again. These are kindly people who are doing their war duty so we expect you to repay them by doing as you're told at all times, being helpful and behaving well. You'll be attending school while you're here, so you'll make some new friends; and don't forget, Miss Flynn and I will be staying with our groups for the time being. We know you're going to miss your families but you all have to be brave. It's for your own good, remember, to take you all away from the bombing.'

A few minutes after she had finished speaking the coach pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. It was the moment of reality for the children, and some of the girls had started to cry openly while most of the boys chewed their lips, fiddled with their hankies and stared out of the windows, pretending not to care.

‘All right, children. Red dots collect all your belongings and follow me. Quickly! Tell me your name and show me your label as you get off.'

The children scrambled off the coach and formed a crocodile before hesitantly following their teacher into the church hall next to the local school. After a brief respite, which included hot chocolate and biscuits, they were instructed to line up back in the school playground and the process began.

Only three children were picked before Ruby. Then she saw a woman point to her.

‘Ruby Blakeley, step forward, please,' her teacher said, and she took the smallest step forward with her eyes firmly on the ground. ‘Ruby! Manners!'

Swallowing hard, she looked up just as a tall, imposing woman stepped up to her and smiled.

‘Hello, Ruby. I'm Mrs Wheaton. You're coming home to stay with me.'

Despite the lady's friendliness, Ruby was terrified, and she couldn't stop herself from shaking as she bent down to pick up her sparse belongings.

‘You look frightened, Ruby, but don't be. Think of this as a nice holiday,' the woman said gently before taking Ruby's free hand and walking her up the main village street. She talked all the way, explaining about the village and pointing out the shops and landmarks, but the ten-year-old was so wrapped up in her own fear she found it hard to even concentrate, let alone respond.

‘Here we are, Ruby, just in here. This is where we live. We don't have any children ourselves but your schoolfriends will be staying nearby. I was part of the committee that organised the billets so you just have to ask and I can tell you where they all are. And you'll make new friends at school.'

Ruby looked around as they approached the house. From the exterior it reminded her of ‘the big house' up in Woodford, where her mother was employed as a cleaner. During the school holidays she had sometimes gone with her mother and waited impatiently on the wall outside, wondering about the inside, but not once had she been allowed over the threshold; and she had never met her mother's employer.

The Wheaton property was equally impressive, with thick wisteria growing up the walls, flowerbeds on each side and a walled garden to the rear. The house itself was L-shaped and stood alone on a corner at the top of the main street behind a high but neatly trimmed hedge. A large black car was parked on the drive near a detached garage, a fat ginger and white cat curled up on the car roof. He opened his eyes, looked at the newcomer and closed them again.

Talking all the while, Mrs Wheaton led Ruby along a curvy path to a hidden entrance on the side.

‘We always use this entrance because the other one is the one the patients use to go into the surgery. I did tell you my husband is a doctor, didn't I? But there are also doors in the house that lead from one to the other.' She smiled. ‘Oh, and the cat is called Fred. He's very gentle and lazy and loves children. Mr Yardley lives in the flat over the garage. He drives the car for the doctor and does all the odd jobs. You'll meet him later, and we usually have a nurse staying with us. There's a new one coming next week. She'll live in the room at the back of the surgery. That's why we only had room to take in one evacuee. It's a very busy house and surgery.'

With a hand placed in the middle of her back, the woman gently pushed a hesitant Ruby through an already open front door into a wide, square lobby with a tiled floor and half-panelled walls. Several dark wood doors led off it and there was an impressive staircase to the side that turned twice on its way to the first floor. Ruby's first impression was that it was enormous, so enormous she couldn't imagine sleeping even one night inside without being scared witless.

‘I'll show you your bedroom in a minute, but first I want you to meet my husband. He'll be through in just a moment.'

Even as Mrs Wheaton spoke Ruby heard a clunking sound and turned around to see a man in a wheelchair heading across the tiled floor towards them. Ruby was petrified when she saw the man wheeling himself towards her. His head was down and she couldn't see his expression.

‘George darling, this is Ruby Blakeley, the evacuee who's going to be staying with us. She's ten years old and from London. She's also very nervous, understandably. Ruby, this is my husband, Dr Wheaton.'

‘Don't be nervous, Ruby,' the man said as he stopped his chair in front of her. ‘I'm pleased to meet you. I hope you'll be happy during your time here; we look forward to having you for as long as you need to be here.'

The man held his hand out to her and smiled. His face was friendly and his tone soothing but, despite all the niceness, a huge wave of homesickness swept over her and before she could reach out and take the proffered hand she started to cry. Her shoulders moved up and down in time with the huge gasping sobs that she tried desperately to control but couldn't.

Mrs Wheaton immediately bent down and pulled the little girl to her; she hugged her tight and, whispering gently, she continued to hold her until the sobs subsided.

‘There, I think the worst is over for you now so chin up. I'll show you your room and then we'll have dinner and get to know each other.'

Later that night Ruby lay curled up in her bed and thought about everything that had happened during that long first day. She was exhausted, but although Mrs Wheaton had made her a cup of warm cocoa she couldn't sleep. Her room was large and her bed was soft and welcoming, but she hated it and wished she was back home in the familiar boxroom, which she had to herself because she was the only girl. She also wished she had been able to bring some of her favourite personal things with her: the three china animal ornaments that had perched on her windowsill for as long as she could remember, the wooden box that contained all manner of secrets and mementoes, the mini-bolster that she liked to cuddle at night; but most of all she wished her mother was there with her.

When they'd started to gather in the school playground in Walthamstow, Ruby had assumed that all the children were travelling alone, but then she'd realised that some of the mothers had cases with them also.

‘Why aren't you coming, Mum?' she'd asked tearfully.

‘Don't fuss, Ruby. Only the babies have their mothers with them. You're a big girl now, you don't need me with you. Besides, I have to look after the boys.'

‘Why aren't they being evacuated, then? There are big boys here.' Ruby waved her hand around to make her point.

‘You know your dad wouldn't let them go. Just you, because you're a girl. Now, no more tears. Look, everyone's walking; you need to find your place with your friends. I can see Mary Flaherty over there – go and walk with her.'

‘Aren't you even coming to the coach with me?'

‘No, I have to get back. I have to get to work or I won't get paid. You know what Mrs Harrison is like if I'm late. But you write to me as soon as you know your address and I'll write back. You won't be away long, I promise!'

The crocodile of children had started moving slowly, and Ruby took her place, but when she looked around to wave she couldn't see her mother anywhere in the sea of faces. There were so many children that no one would have noticed that Ruby's mother had gone, but still her face reddened and her disappointment was physically painful: her mother hadn't even kissed her goodbye.

Now she was in a beautiful bedroom that was probably six times the size of her boxroom back home. It was well furnished, with a proper wash-basin in the corner and a large yellow teddy bear with brown button eyes on the end of the bed. It was beautiful and luxurious beyond her imagination, but at that moment all she wanted was to be back at home with her mother in the crowded terraced house with an outside toilet and no bathroom.

Ruby Blakeley was unhappier than she had ever been in her life. She buried her head under the fluffy pillow and sobbed silently until she was exhausted. Daylight dawned just as she dropped off, and next thing she knew there was a knock on the door.

‘Ruby? Are you awake? Breakfast is nearly ready. Ruby?'

‘I'm awake.' Ruby replied cautiously.

The door opened slightly and Mrs Wheaton put her head around it.

‘Then get washed and dressed and come down. I'll be in the kitchen. Dr Wheaton has an early surgery this morning and then Yardley, the driver, will take him on his rounds so it's just you and me. I'm looking forward to it.'

Ruby climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the landing into the bathroom. She'd never been in one quite like it until the night before and was overawed again with the inside lavatory with a shiny metallic chain, and the huge white bath with claw feet and gleaming taps. Even at the age of ten Ruby was worldly enough to take it all in and wonder exactly how rich the Wheatons were to have a house that size.

As she shyly took her seat at the table in the kitchen Babs Wheaton turned round from the range and put a plate in front of her with a fat rasher of bacon, a fried egg and a thick slice of fried bread. Just looking at it made Ruby feel sick but she knew she had to make an effort. The last thing she wanted to do was upset her host family on the first day.

‘Did you get to sleep, Ruby? I heard your bed creaking during the night but I didn't want to come in and upset you.'

‘I'm all right,' Ruby mumbled as she looked at the plate in front of her. ‘I just feel a bit sick now.'

‘Would you sooner have a plain slice of toast? You need something inside you, especially if you feel sick.'