killed and hundreds more injured. Once again, the Emergency
Centres were busy finding homes for those who had
been bombed out.
Cissie and her mother crept out of their Anderson soon
after dawn. April Grove had escaped damage, and people all
along the row of long, narrow gardens leading to the
allotments were making their way up their paths, hoping the
gas was on so that they could make tea. Cissie went straight
through the house to the front, hoping to see Polly and Judy
coming home. Alice followed her.
There were quite a few people out there already. Frank
Budd, who had spent the night firewatching, was already
setting off to go to work in the Dockyard and Tommy
Vickers was coming down the street, stumbling a little with
weariness. The two men paused for a moment and Alice and
Cissie joined them.
‘Bad night,’ Frank said, shaking his head. ‘There’ll be all
sorts of damage done. You could read a newspaper by the
light of the flames. I suppose it was the city centre and the
Yard got it worst again.’
Tommy looked at him. Usually a bright, cheery man with
a quip for every occasion, he looked, as Frank put it later,
‘proper done in’. His eyes were red-rimmed with smoke and
fatigue, his face drawn and grey. He rubbed a hand across
his face.‘I just come from Powerscourt Road. There’ve been more bombs there.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Kids - boys — in
the cellar of one of those houses that were bombed last year.
Where young Kathy Simmons lived before she come to
October Street.’ His voice was trembling a little. ‘Reckon
they had some sort o’ den there - you know what boys are.
Collecting stuff - shrapnel, that sort of thing.’ He took a
deep breath while Frank stared at him. ‘Seems like they had
a bomb in there with them - unexploded. They must have
found it and took it there.’ He stopped.
‘A bomb?’ Frank said. ‘Why, the silly young fools. Didn’t
they realise it could go off at any time?’ He stopped and
looked more closely at Tommy. ‘What is it, Tom? What
happened?’
‘The place was hit again,’ Tommy said wearily, ‘and the
bomb went off as well. They’d got out of the cellar, they
were out in the garden when it went, but… He looked at
Frank and the women as if begging them to say it wasn’t
true. ‘They were youngsters from round here, that’s the
worst of it. That Micky Baxter. And young Jimmy Cross.
And that little Nash boy - Cyril, is it? - the one that always
looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Not that we
found much of him,’ he added bitterly. ‘Blown to bits, poor
little tyke. And Jimmy Cross - well, he’s lost a leg, blown
clean off, and they reckon he’ll be lucky if that’s all the
damage.’
Cissie stared at him. ‘But youngsters like that ought to
have been down in their shelters. What on earth were they
doing out there? What were their mums and dads thinking of?’
‘I don’t suppose Nancy Baxter even knew Micky was
out,’ Alice said. ‘She’s not home herself at night all that
much. But the other two - well, I’d have thought they’d be
better looked after.’
‘It’ll have been that Micky Baxter who was the ringleader,’
Frank said grimly. ‘There’s always trouble where
that boy is. What about him, Tom? Was he hurt?’
‘I dunno. I don’t think he was, much, just knocked out by
the blast.’ Tommy rubbed his face again. ‘But those other
two - I tell you, I don’t never want to see nothing like that
again. That little Cyril Nash - he used to come round here
with his guy, Firework Night, asking for pennies. My Freda
always used to give him something, she said he had such a
sweet face. I dunno how she’s going to take this.’
‘And Jimmy Cross too,’ Alice said sadly. ‘I used to live in
the same street as his grandpa when I was little - played
together, we did. They were a nice family, the Crosses.
What a terrible thing.’
Tommy went indoors and Frank continued on his way.
Alice and Cissie looked at each other.
‘I’m worried sick about our Polly and Judy,’ Cissie said,
her voice shaking. ‘Something’s happened to them, Mum,
I’m sure of it. Something awful’s happened to them.’
‘I just don’t know what we ought to do,’ Alice said. She’d
managed to persuade Cissie to come back indoors and boil
up a kettle for some tea; just for once, the gas supply seemed
to have survived the raid. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t be
cut off later, of course, if there was danger from an
unexploded bomb or some fracture further along the mains.
But for now, you could at least make a hot drink. Alice put a
couple of slices of bread under the grill too, but when she
spread margarine and Marmite on the toast Cissie shook her
head.
‘I couldn’t eat a thing, Mum, not till I know what’s
happened to them. And there’s Dick as well, he’s supposed
to be coming out of hospital in the next day or two. What
am I going to tell him when I go in at visiting time if our
Judy still isn’t home?’
‘She’ll be back by then.’ Alice spoke with more conviction
than she felt. ‘Bound to be. But I don’t know what we can
do about it anyway, Cis. I suppose we could go down the
Emergency Centre. They’ll know what’s what.’
Cissie began to get to her feet. ‘I’ll go now.’
‘You’ll eat your breakfast first.’ Once again, Alice’s voice
was stern, reminding Cissie of her childhood. ‘You don’t
take a step out of this house without something inside you.
Eat up your toast now, there’s a good girl. You don’t want
me to waste it, do you?’
If she’d really been the child her mother seemed to think
she was, Cissie would have retorted that she hadn’t wanted
her to make it. But she was a grown woman, for all her
nervousness, and knew that you couldn’t afford to waste
good food these days. Alice was right - she did need
something to eat before she went out. So she picked up the
toast and nibbled it, then realised that she really was hungry
and ate it without further argument. She drank the tea and
then got up again.
‘I’ll go down the Centre now, Mum. You’re right, they’ll
know what’s happened. They might even be there, our Judy
and Polly, having a rest before they come home. They must
have been so busy last night…’ Her voice wavered again
and then strengthened as Alice too began to make ready for
going out. ‘No, you stop here. You need a rest too and I’d
rather there was someone here in case they come while I’m
gone.’
She shrugged on her jacket and let herself out into the
street again. April Grove was busy now, with women at
their doors washing their steps and delivery vans already
beginning to arrive with bread, milk and vegetables. It was a
marvel how people just got on with their lives even after a
night like they’d just been through, Cissie reflected. Mind
you, the baker’s van didn’t seem to have many loaves to
hand out, and old Mr Briggs who drove it seemed to be
operating his own rationing system (‘No, Mrs Kinch, you
‘ad one yesterday, you can’t ‘ave got through that already’),
while his horse seemed nervous, as if it had been frightened
all night, which it probably had. But the milkman was
whistling cheerfully and the burly man from the greengrocer’s
was weighing out potatoes as if he didn’t have a care
in the world. So perhaps the raid hadn’t been so bad after
all, she thought hopefully as she hurried along.
It was a different matter when she came out into the main
road. There were no buses running, and she could see a pall
of smoke further south, over Portsea. A woman walked past
crying, with a handkerchief held up to her face, and there
was a group of workmen standing on a corner looking
stunned. Cissie began to feel anxious again, a heavy sense of
dread settling over her like a cloud. She thought again of the
little boy who had been killed and the one who would be
‘lucky if he only lost a leg’. How many others were there like
that?
Her chest and throat tight with anxiety, Cissie almost ran
along the pavement. I ought to go to the hospital too, she
thought, and let Dick know we’re all right. Even if they
don’t let me in, I ought to go. But I don’t know that we’re all right, she reminded herself. Until I know where Polly and
my Judy are, I don’t know that at all.
Dick would be all right, anyway, tucked up in bed and
well looked after. He was over the worst now, and yesterday
they’d told her he’d be home in a few days. He’d be
worrying about them, she was sure, and the minute she
knew about Polly and Judy she’d go straight to the Royal
and get a message to him, but just for now her sister and
daughter came first.
She arrived at the Centre at last. It was thronged with
people and as Cissie came round the corner and saw the
queue her heart leaped with relief. Not for all those poor
souls who’d been bombed out, of course, but just because
she knew that if there were so many people needing help it
was no wonder Polly and Judy hadn’t been able to get home.
They’d been there all night, handing out cocoa and
sandwiches, and probably that’s where they were still. Some
of the daytime volunteers might have been bombed as well,
or just couldn’t get through the streets to take over. That
was all it was. She’d see them the minute she went through
the door, looking tired but cheerful, glad as always to be able to lend a hand.
Getting through the door wasn’t so easy, however. The
people waiting were reluctant to let her through. ‘Oy, no
queue-jumping if you don’t mind! Go to the back. It’s first
come, first served.’
‘I need to see my daughter.’
‘You’ve got a wait, then,’ said a woman with pinched lips
and a deep vertical line between her eyebrows. ‘Gawd knows
what they’re doing in there, but whatever it is they’re
handing out there’s not going to be much left for us poor
buggers. We bin here since five, and hardly moved.’
‘No, she’s a volunteer - a helper. She’s been out all night.
I just want to make sure she’s all right. And my sister too,
she drives an ambulance. Please let me through,’ Cissie
begged. ‘I’ve got my hubby in hospital, too, in the Royal,
he’s had pneumonia. I’ve got to go and let him know we’re
all right.’
‘In the Royal?’ A man standing just in front of them
turned. ‘Well, you’d better go and see if he’s all right too.
Didn’t you know it got hit last night?’
‘The Royal?’ Cissie stared at him, her heart suddenly
cold. ‘The Royal Hospital got hit?’
”S right. Mine fell on it. Hundreds killed, so I heard.
There was ambulances backwards-and forwards all night,
and what I heard was, the Casualty Ward got the worst of it.
Maybe that’s where your girl’s gone, if your sis was one of
the drivers.’
Cissie felt sick. She put out one hand and leaned against
the door jamb, swept by a wave of dizziness. The woman
who had been reluctant to let her through steadied her with
one arm.
‘Here, hold on, ducks. I dare say your girl’s all right, and
your sister too. They’re probably in here now, dishing out
tea and filling up forms. And if it was just the Casualty that
got hit, your hubby’ll be all right. Don’t you worry. Now
look, you go on in and make sure they’re here and then pop
off to the Royal. Let her through,’ she said, raising her voice to those in front. ‘Let this lady through, she’s got a girl and a sister in the volunteers, and her hubby’s down the Royal.
Come on, move yourselves!’
The queue shifted, some of those at the front grumbling a
little but, as the details were passed along the line, changing dramatically as they went, Cissie was allowed to pass. By the
time she reached the head of the queue the whispers had
arrived before her, and she was receiving sympathetic
glances. ‘Lost her hubby and daughter and sister in the
raid,’ someone murmured as she passed, and Cissie swayed
again. Suppose it were true! Oh, let it not be true, she
begged.
To her relief, the woman pouring tea was Annie
Chapman. ‘Cis! Whatever are you doing here? I thought
you’d be at the hospital.’
Cissie stared at her. ‘At the hospital? You mean the
Royal?’
‘Well, no. They were taking people to Queen Alexandra
or St James’s. The Royal was hit, you know.’ Annie’s hand
flew to her mouth in consternation. ‘Oh, my goodness. Your
hubby’s in there, isn’t he? How is he? Have you been to
see?’
‘No - I didn’t even know about it till a few minutes ago.’
Cissie put her hand to her head. ‘I was looking for Polly and
Judy - they never came home. I thought I’d find them here,
but…’ Annie’s words sank in and she caught her breath.
‘D’you mean to say they’ve been taken to hospital, too?
They’ve been hurt?’
Annie looked dismayed. ‘Cis, I’m ever so sorry to break it
to you like this. That’s what I heard, anyway. They were in