A Wartime Christmas (32 page)

‘Like your dad, I think a change of scenery will do you both good,’ Vi agreed.

‘We’ll have to be back for the fifteenth when Alfie starts school.’

‘September will be a busy month.’

Kay smiled ruefully. ‘Would you like to come with us? I know Mum would make you welcome.’

But Vi began to shake her head even before Kay had finished speaking. ‘No, flower, not me! As nice as the country sounds, I’d prefer to be here where I can wander down to the shops
if I want. Or go to the market. Or just sit outside the front door and watch the world go by.’

‘I don’t like leaving you on your own.’

‘Babs is next door.’

‘Vi, if a letter from Alan arrives—’

‘I could post it on to you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Leave it ter me.’

‘I hope I hear from Jean soon,’ Kay murmured, her thoughts on Sean. ‘Because if she doesn’t go to Stock’s Lane, then I’ll have to.’

‘But the old lady won’t let you in.’

‘She will if I give her some money.’ Kay was thinking of the Post Office account.

It was early in August when Jean appeared at the door again. Kay could tell by the look on her face that it was not good news.

‘We were too late,’ Jean told Kay regretfully as they went into the kitchen and sat down. ‘The place had been abandoned.’

Kay swallowed down her bitter disappointment. She had been telling herself that by some miracle, Sean would be found. Tears filled her eyes. She seemed destined never to find Sean, no matter how
hard she tried.

‘I’m so sorry, Kay.’

‘You didn’t find anything – anything at all – to prove Sean had been there?’

‘Only this. Can you identify it?’ Jean took an envelope from her bag and drew out a scrap of dirty paper. Under the muck smeared over it there was a child’s drawing. Kay
recognized the shape: a blue train carriage.

‘Yes,’ Kay gasped. ‘It’s the carriage from Alfie’s train set.’

‘Are you sure it’s Sean’s drawing?’

‘Without a doubt. He would have had his drawing book and crayons in his satchel.’

‘We didn’t find any of those.’

Kay fingered the piece of paper. ‘Can I keep this?’

‘If you like.’

Kay looked at the drawing. ‘So what happens now?’

‘We’ve given our findings to the police and asked them to list Sean as a missing person.’

‘Is that what Sean is – missing?’

‘His description will be circulated to all the constabularies.’

‘That’s something, I suppose.’

‘I did try to find out about Dolly,’ Jean said with a sigh, ‘but with no success.’

Kay nodded. ‘I guessed that might be the case.’

‘Don’t give up hope, Kay.’

Kay tried to smile, but after her friend had left, Kay went into the front room and took the train set from the wardrobe drawer. She placed the drawing beside it. Sean had memorized the blue
train perfectly. He must have been scared and lonely when Dolly took him to that awful place. She hoped and prayed that he knew she would try to find him.

Kay held the carriage close, together with the scrap of paper. She wouldn’t lose hope, yet she knew it would be almost impossible to find Sean amidst the numbers of missing and displaced
children that were a result of this terrible war.

It was early September. Kay and Alfie arrived at Monkton Station to find Bob waiting on the platform to greet them. He shouldered his way through the crowds, eager to relieve
her of her bags.

‘Good to see you at last,’ he said as he kissed them on their cheeks and ruffled Alfie’s neatly combed hair. ‘My word, son, you’ve scrubbed up well since last I saw
you.’

Kay went red. ‘Sorry I wasn’t there that day, Dad.’

‘Couldn’t be helped. Now, Alfie, are you ready to have the time of your life?’ Bob grabbed Alfie’s hand and marched them through the people leaving the small station. Kay
noticed the many different uniforms about, not just English, but American too.

‘We’ve got a lot of activity here,’ shouted Bob over his shoulder. ‘There’s an air force base a couple of miles away and Monkton is the closest shopping centre. So
we get to see a lot of those chaps.’

Kay blushed when she received smiles from the handsome servicemen dressed in their sleek uniforms and tilted caps. Compared to the elegant women who accompanied some of them, she felt dowdy in
her cheap and cheerful floral dress and market-bought sandals. Even her hair was untidy from the panic they’d had leaving early this morning in order to catch the bus. They’d made it to
the station with only a few minutes to spare. She hadn’t been able to pile her hair on top of her head in attractive curls. Instead, her coppery locks were flying across her shoulders and
over her forehead, straying into the long lashes that fringed her grey eyes. They passed other women too, all smiling and giving the eye to the troops. Some were from the Women’s Royal Air
Force, others looked like Land Army girls in their shirts and trousers. The station was very busy for a small place like Monkton, and Kay said as much to her dad as they emerged into the sunshine
outside.

‘You might have a surprise,’ continued Bob, ‘when you see how lively we country bumpkins can be. Now come on, here’s our coach. The council lays it on at midday for
people who want to go straight to the town centre.’

Kay sat by the window on the coach and Alfie on his granddad’s knee. Like Hertfordshire, the farms, lanes, hundreds of trees, cows, cottages and tractors whizzed by. Kay wondered if Alfie
remembered living in the country with Len and Doris. She always reminded him of his Uncle Len and Nanty in Hertfordshire; though it was years since he’d seen them, they were part of his
family and she wanted him to know that. Studying his face, she was surprised to see his attention was on a young girl sitting on the opposite side of the coach. She was eating sweets from a brown
paper bag and making them look very delicious.

‘Can I ’ave a big bag of sweets, Granddad?’ Alfie asked, unable to take his eyes off the sight of the sweets slowly being popped into the girl’s mouth. Kay noticed she
was very well dressed with nice shoes, and her mother also looked very smart in a red two-piece suit and saucer-shaped hat to match.

‘We’ll see what we can sort out,’ said Bob, grinning and patting Alfie’s arm. ‘That’s Flora Cuthbert,’ whispered Bob to Kay. ‘She’s on the
town council. Very well-to-do. Goes up to the city a lot and rubs shoulders with the top brass. Flora Junior goes to a posh boarding school. Must be the last of the wee mite’s holiday and
she’s making the most of it. Your mum plays whist with Flora at the church hall.’

‘Mum’s taken a shine to whist,’ agreed Kay. ‘Goes on about it in her letters.’

‘Keeps her busy,’ said Bob with a rueful smile.

‘So what’s Aunty Pops’s place like, Dad?’ Kay asked as the coach trundled along.

‘Too big for her to manage really, since Tommy died,’ said Bob. ‘And even when Tommy was alive he didn’t do much. He was a travelling salesman before the war and away a
lot.’

‘Do you and Mum intend to stay with Aunty Pops?’

‘You’ll have to ask your mother about that.’

‘Would you like to come back to the East End one day?’ Kay persisted.

Bob gave a gentle shrug. ‘I’ve got used to country life now. Your mum and Aunty Pops rub along all right. And me, well, I’ve got the bowls club; all me mates are
there.’

‘Are they like your pals from Poplar?’

‘Not really,’ her dad admitted. ‘When you’ve worked for London Transport for three decades you’re part of a clan. Just like your Norman was. A damn good bus driver
who’d have drawn his pension if it wasn’t for that damn accident.’

Kay’s smile faded. She knew how close her mum and dad were to Norman. Which was one of the reasons why they hadn’t taken to Alan. Her first husband was a hard act to follow and Alan
hadn’t tried, anyway. He was his own man.

As if reading her thoughts, her dad nudged her arm. ‘Didn’t mean to bring back painful memories, love.’

Kay resisted the urge to say that memories concerning Norman were no longer painful. Falling in love with Alan had given her a new life to lead. She had long ago come to terms with the shock of
Norman’s premature death and the abrupt end to her first marriage. She had hoped that this holiday would prove different; that she could talk to her parents about the life she planned with
Alan together on the island after the war. They had talked about buying their own house on the island, of doing it up and, with Alan’s skills, making it a home to be proud of. It was a pipe
dream, Kay knew, but it was theirs.

‘Won’t be long now. Monkton’s just down the road,’ said Bob. ‘Your Mum and Aunty Pops are on the edge of their seats waiting to see you. Now just look at that! You
can’t beat a nice little English cafe, even in wartime, perhaps especially in wartime, where you can enjoy a poached egg on toast!’

Kay looked out of the window following her father’s glance. The sun was shining above a black-beamed thatch-cottage tea-room with a notice outside advertising the use of fresh farm eggs.
The last time she had seen a sign like that was when Alan was beside her as they had travelled to Len and Doris’s.

Aunty Pops’s house was big indeed. Kay had imagined a kind of cottage like Len and Doris’s Albion. But it was, so her dad explained, a house built only thirty or
forty years ago. Under the strong-looking slate roof were pale coloured bricks and workmanlike windows that were nothing like the lattice ones she had been expecting. There weren’t many trees
or flowers around. Instead an allotment spread out on either side of the front path.

‘This is my veggie patch,’ said Bob. ‘I’m out here a lot as we grow all our own veg.’ He laughed. ‘In the Smoke I wouldn’t have known what to do with a
spade. But here, we’re all encouraged to dig for Britain. Big part of the war effort, see.’

‘D’you grow any sweets, Granddad?’ asked Alfie.

Bob chuckled. ‘I ain’t managed sweets yet, son. But give me time. One day I might be able to turn a broad bean into a gobstopper.’

The front door flew open and Kay saw her mother appear. Wearing a belted navy-blue dress and red scarf, she looked as smart as ever. Her short, silvery hair gleamed in the sunshine and a brooch
sparkled on the lapel of her jacket. Behind her was an older woman, also with silvery grey hair cut short, who Kay vaguely remembered as Aunty Pops, Lil’s older sister. She was shorter than
Lil, wore trousers and a cardigan and walked with the aid of a stick.

The two women hugged Kay and made a great fuss of Alfie. ‘Nice to see you after all these years, love,’ said Aunty Pops, her wrinkled face as brown as the grubby old cardigan she
wore. ‘Me and Tommy came to stay with your mum for your poor Norman’s funeral.’

Kay hoped Aunty Pops wasn’t going to provide more discussion on Norman. ‘Yes, a long time ago now, Aunty Pops.’

‘The lad don’t smile much, does he?’ said Aunty Pops, thankfully moving on to another subject. She too ruffled his hair and received one of his long stares. ‘Never mind,
we’ll soon get to know one another. Come on in and make yourselves at home.’

‘Well, you’re here at last, my girl,’ said Lil, sliding her arm through Kay’s while Aunty Pops and Bob walked behind them with Alfie. ‘Better late than never, I
say. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves so much you’ll be wanting to stay on a few weeks more.’ She stood still. ‘Nice for the lad not to have to find his fun in the
streets.’

Kay knew her mother was hinting at the day they came to visit. ‘Alfie’s got to be back for the fifteenth,’ she said. ‘It’s the start of the school term.’

Lil waved this aside. ‘He ain’t gonna be expelled for being a week or two late, I’m sure!’

Kay didn’t argue the point. She knew that if Vi was here she’d be rolling her eyes and giving a mischievous grin to the back of Lil’s neatly combed head.

It was early on Friday morning and Vi looked out of the window onto the street which hadn’t yet filled with kids. It was a nice time of the morning, just the gulls
screeching and the river traffic beginning its hustle and bustle. Lifting the sash she breathed in the morning air and enjoyed its freshness as it circulated the bedroom. Then, as she was about to
turn away, she saw a figure in uniform come marching down the road, arms swinging.

Vi took in a sharp breath. It was Eddie!

‘Oh, my Gawd,’ she gasped, hiding behind the lace curtain. ‘Now the cat’s really among the pigeons.’

She stood back, her heart thumping wildly. She’d only been speaking to Babs yesterday in the corner shop. Babs hadn’t said a word about Eddie. She couldn’t know he was coming
home.

Vi listened for the knock on Babs’s front door, or would Eddie pull up the key, she wondered. But she heard the knocker go, a succession of loud raps that was Eddie’s signature tune.
Minutes later there were screams of delight. Vi could hear Gill and Tim, and Eddie’s deep voice in reply.

Vi couldn’t remember if Paul had stayed overnight. He was such a regular visitor now that she’d accepted his presence whenever she saw him. She listened, wondering if she’d
hear raised male voices. Angry yells? But there was nothing more than the children’s happy cries and the bang of the door.

‘It had to happen,’ Vi murmured to herself, shaking her head miserably. ‘Babs is gonna have her work cut out on this one!’

It was early evening on Saturday and Kay was getting Alfie ready for an evening out. They were all going to a dance at the church hall. Lil had bought tickets at her whist
club; included in the price was a buffet, a raffle and a glass of punch.

Kay smiled at Alfie’s long face. He didn’t like his new clothes. And although they had cost an absolute fortune, Lil had insisted she make the purchases. The shop had sold
children’s clothes for years and much of their stock was pre-war. With Lil’s coupons added to Kay’s, Alfie had been kitted out with new short trousers, a smart white shirt, a
sleeveless V-neck jumper patterned with wavy rainbow-coloured lines and, of course, a brand new pair of lace-up shoes just right for school.

‘Why ain’t me shoes got Blakies?’ Alfie complained as Kay urged him to put them on his feet and pull up the long grey woollen socks that were another of Lil’s
purchases.