Authors: Lilian Harry
He had tuppence. That was all. Tuppence.
Sammy sat up. He drew his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms round his shins. He leant forward, rested his head on his knees and began to cry.
After a while his sobs died away a little and he lifted his head again, sniffing and rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Auntie Ruth had told him not to do that, but he’d lost his hanky as well, and Auntie Ruth wasn’t here. He wished she were. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to see Silver and hear his raucous voice. He wanted to see Lizzie, and Uncle George and Auntie Jane, and Tim and Keith Budd, and Stella and Muriel and all the others.
He wanted to see Dad.
I shouldn’t never have run away, he thought miserably. It was bad of me to take Dad’s money and go off like that.
This is my punishment for being bad. Mr Beckett said in church that if you were bad you’d be punished and it’s true. I wish I hadn’t done it.
I wish I could see Mr Beckett again.
It was cold, sitting in the ruined building, and he got up and stretched. The cushions had been damp and his clothes clung to him, cold and wet. He flapped his arms against his sides in an effort to warm himself up, then crept out of the broken walls, looking cautiously about in case someone saw him. It was probably against the law to hide in bombed houses, and he didn’t want to get into trouble with the police and end up in a proved school, where nobody would ever be able to find him.
There was nobody about as he walked slowly along the road. It was a narrow street, lined on both sides with small terraced houses, much the same as the ones in April Grove. Two rooms downstairs, with a scullery tacked on the back and an outside lavatory beyond that, and two small bedrooms upstairs. Room for a family like his, with two boys or girls, or even for a bigger family like the Budds, with two of each. The sort of house that Sammy thought almost everybody in the world must live in, unless they were rich and had three bedrooms and a real bathroom, and a garden in the front.
He wondered what time it was. It was lightish, although the heavy clouds threw a dark shadow over everything, and it must be going to work time for a lot of people, as the streets were full of walkers or cyclists and the trams and buses were crammed. There was an occasional car and a few delivery vans, most of them dragged by weary horses. He thought it was probably about eight o’clock.
He wondered if Dad would be coming home tonight and what he’d do when he found Sammy had gone. He’d be angry at first, but he probably wouldn’t mind all that much. He’d just think Sammy had gone back to Bridge End, and swear a bit because the money had gone and then go up the
pub. And Auntie Ruth wouldn’t be worried because she would think Sammy was still in April Grove. In fact, he thought, nobody would worry about him. They’d all think he was somewhere else and after a while they’d forget about him.
Bleak, cold fear touched him for an instant as he looked into a future of wandering the streets of Southampton, cold and starving, until eventually he fell down and died. And nobody would know. It might be weeks, months, perhaps even years, before anyone realised he wasn’t where he was meant to be and by then it would be too late.
If only I could get back to Bridge End, he thought. If only I knew the way …
He didn’t know how long he walked before he arrived at the docks. He knew he was there because of the noise, a familiar noise to him from the docks at Camber in Old Portsmouth, and because of the increased bustle. He could see the funnels of the ships too, above the long wall, and hear the occasional hoot. There would be stalls somewhere near, he thought, places to buy buns and something to drink. He walked on beside the wall.
When he came to the big gateway he paused and peered inside, and caught his breath.
There were ships there, moored at the jetties, not liners but big cargo ships. But between the gateway and the jetties was a wide expanse of roadway and in the middle of the roadway there was a train.
It wasn’t a real station, he could see that. The train was on tracks that just seemed to run along the road, like a tram. But it was pulling wagons behind it, and as Sammy watched it came to a halt and a man began to unload boxes and stack them at the side of the road.
Maybe the train will go to Bridge End, he thought with a leap of his heart. Even if it doesn’t, it’ll go to the station and I could get off it there and get on the train to Bridge End without having to buy a ticket. And when I get off, I
can just tell the man that Auntie Ruth will give him the fare. He knows me and I know she’d do that. I
know
she would.
Without another thought he ran through the gate towards the train. He ignored the shouts of the man who was in charge of the gate and scampered as fast as he could across the wide expanse of roadway. His heart thudding, his one objective to reach the train and somehow get aboard before it moved away, he did not even notice the second set of tracks until he was running over them. He tried to avoid them, but caught his foot and fell headlong, his arms flung out in front of him. As he fell he heard more shouts, loud shouts, filled with panic and dismay. And he heard too the mournful whistle of another train and felt the rumble of its coming in the steel tracks beneath his cheek.
With a screech of brakes and a shudder of pistons the train drew into the station and jerked to a halt. Ruth and Dan looked out of the window at the busy, bustling platforms, the mass of people scrambling to get on and off.
The same thought was in both their minds. If Sammy, too, had come to this station, what on earth would he have done? Wherever could he have gone?
It’s hopeless, Ruth thought, climbing down and staring helplessly around. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.
But even haystacks could be taken to pieces and even needles would turn up, eventually. You just had to keep on looking until you found them.
‘We’ll go to the hospital first,’ she said. ‘We’ll see Lizzie. She might have some ideas where we could go, if nothing else.’
Lizzie was at Southampton General Hospital. Ruth had been there several times, had even worked there once for a while, before she got her job at the Bridge End Cottage Hospital. But now the streets all looked so different, with
the bomb damage and the attempts at shoring up and rebuilding, that she found it difficult to remember the way.
‘It was down this way, I’m sure,’ she said, but after three wrong turnings decided she’d have to ask the way. Even then, the first person they asked sent them off in entirely the wrong direction and they walked a good mile before realising the mistake.
Dan swore and then apologised. ‘I know I ought to mind me manners. Nora used to try to keep me up to scratch, but since she went – well, everything’s gone to pot, me included.’
Ruth smiled wryly. ‘You’re all right, Dan. You’ve just had a bad time.’
He grunted. ‘You keep making excuses for me, I dunno why.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘we all need someone to make excuses for us. Oh, thank goodness, there’s the Bargate – that big stone wall and gateway across the road. We won’t have much further to go now. I just hope Lizzie’s on duty, or we’ll have to walk all the way round to Alec’s parents’ house.’ She glanced at Dan. ‘You must be getting hungry.’
‘It doesn’t matter about that,’ he said brusquely. ‘All I want is to get my boy back safe and sound. I’ll think about eating then.’
They trudged on a bit further. The clouds were pressing right down now and there was an icy wind, which seemed to blow right through to their bones. Ruth shivered and bent her head against it, then gave a little cry of relief as they came at last within sight of the hospital buildings. In another moment they were inside its big doors and a nurse was listening as Ruth began to ask about Lizzie.
‘Nurse Warren? Yes, I know her. She’s on men’s surgical. It’s up those stairs and along the corridor – but I don’t know if she’s on duty now—’
Her last words went unheeded as Dan and Ruth ran up the marble stairs. Almost as if they expected to find Sammy
himself waiting for them, they hurried along the big, empty corridor. The ward doors were open and Ruth gave a little exclamation as she saw Lizzie, sitting at a small table just inside the door.
‘Lizzie!’
Lizzie turned and came swiftly to her feet. ‘Auntie Ruth!’ Her eyes went past Ruth to Dan. ‘Mr Hodges! Oh, thank heavens you’re here. But –’ her brows came together in a bewildered frown ‘– how did you get here so quickly? I’ve only just sent the telegram.’
Ruth stared at her. ‘What telegram? We haven’t had any telegram.’
‘No, that’s what I mean. I only sent it half an hour ago – you wouldn’t have had time—’
‘Lizzie,’ Ruth said, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to speak slowly, ‘what was the telegram about? Is it Alec? Or his mother, or father?’
‘No, of course not,’ Lizzie said. She looked from Ruth to Dan and back to Ruth again. ‘It’s Sammy, of course. I sent you a telegram about Sammy.’
‘
Sammy
! You mean – you know where he is?’ Ruth grabbed her niece’s arm and shook it. ‘Where? Where is he? He – he’s not hurt, is he? He’s – he’s not—’
Lizzie caught both Ruth’s hands in hers and pressed her gently into her own chair. She bent slightly so that she could look into her aunt’s eyes and spoke very clearly.
‘Auntie Ruth, Sammy was brought into hospital yesterday. He was down in the docks. He – he fell in front of a train and—’
‘Oh,
no
!’ Ruth’s hands flew to her face. She stared at Lizzie, then at Dan, and he moved quickly to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. Lizzie met his eyes.
‘How is he?’ he asked in a shaking voice. ‘How badly is he hurt? I want to see him.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll just ask Sister if I can take you to him. He’s in the children’s ward – he’s had an operation.’
She looked at Dan and her eyes were full of tears. ‘When he came in, nobody knew who he was. I would never have known he was here if I hadn’t been sent down to the ward this morning with a message. I saw him lying there – so pale – he was unconscious, but of course I knew him at once. I told the sister and she let me send the telegram straight away.’ They were hurrying along the corridor, back towards the stairs. ‘It’s down here … What I don’t understand is what had happened. Why was he down in the docks at all? And why did you come here, if you hadn’t had the telegram?’
‘Never mind all that,’ Dan said roughly. ‘Just let’s see him. And tell us what’s the matter with him. How bad is it? Is – is he going to be all right?’
Lizzie paused. They were at the doors to the children’s ward now. She glanced through the small glass window and turned to face Dan and Ruth. Her face was grave. ‘They won’t know for certain until he comes round from the operation,’ she said quietly. ‘He – he was hit on the head, you see. They won’t know how successful the operation’s been until he comes round again.’
She did not say the words that were in all their minds. She did not say:
if he ever does come round
.
Sammy opened his eyes to find the faces of the two people he loved most in all the world beside his bed watching over him. He blinked for a moment, then smiled sleepily and tried to hold out his hands.
‘
Ow
. It won’t move.’
‘You’ve got a broken collarbone, Sammy,’ Ruth said, tears in her eyes. ‘You broke it when you fell in front of the train. And you had a nasty bang on your head too.’ She paused, remembering what the doctor had told them and added anxiously, ‘Do you know who we are?’
Sammy stared at her. ‘Course I know who you are. You’re Auntie Ruth.’
Dan cleared his throat. ‘And me, Sammy? You know who I am?’
‘You’re my dad.’ He stared from one to the other, memory slowly returning. ‘I was in the dockyard,’ he said slowly. ‘There was a train – I wanted to get back to Bridge End. I’ve been a bad boy,’ he added regretfully and looked at his father. ‘I’m sorry I took the money, Dad.’
‘That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’ve found you and you’re all right – well, you will be when your collarbone’s mended and that bump on your head’s gone down. You’re safe, that’s what matters.’
Sammy looked from one to the other. Ruth could see that he was tiring and needed to sleep. He said anxiously, ‘What’ll happen now? Will I have to go to proved school for taking the money?’
‘No, of course not! You’ll come back to Bridge End with me. And your dad will come out to see you as often as he can.’ Ruth hesitated, glanced at Dan and added quietly, ‘You’re coming home.’
‘Home,’ he whispered. ‘Do I live with you now, Auntie Ruth? Properly? For ever?’
‘For as long as you like,’ she said, her eyes full of tears, and once again glanced at Dan.
‘But what about Dad? If he’s still in Portsmouth …’
‘We’ll talk about that later,’ Dan said firmly. He reached out and took Ruth’s hand and she gripped it, folding her lips hard together. ‘We’ll talk about it when the war’s over and done with.’
Sammy looked at them again. What he saw seemed to satisfy him, and he lay back with a little sigh and closed his eyes.
‘I’ll be able to teach Silver lots of new things,’ he said dreamily. ‘I’ll be able to teach him anything I like.’
His breathing steadied and they knew he was asleep. They sat there for a little longer, Ruth holding Sammy’s
hand and Dan holding hers. Then they got up to creep away.
‘We’ll be able to take him home pretty soon,’ Ruth said. ‘Now we know his head’s all right, we’ll be able to take him as soon as he’s had a good sleep and the doctor’s had a look at him.’ She looked down at the small figure, barely making a hump in the bed, at the fair hair and the shaved patch where the lump had been inspected. ‘Poor little fellow. We must make sure he’s really settled now.’
‘We will,’ Dan said. ‘I won’t take him back to Pompey again. All I want is to know he’s safe and happy. So long as I can come out and see him whenever I can. To – to see you both,’ he added with a touch of anxiety.
‘Come whenever you like,’ Ruth said and smiled at him, thinking how different he was from her first impression of him. He’s like a man who’s always been locked away, she thought, and for a long time only Nora had the key. Now, after the terrors of the past few days, Dan had unlocked his heart again and she felt as if the key had been handed to her. What she would do with it she didn’t quite know. As he had told Sammy, they would talk about it after the war.