Читать книгу Lost Angel - Kitty Neale - Страница 7

Bombs continued to rain down on London, and Hilda soon lost count of the number of times they had to flee to Mabel’s air raid shelter. The funeral had been dreadful and she’d barely managed to get through it. So many of her parents’ friends had been there, people like them who had lived in this neighbourhood all their lives. Now they were watching it crumbling around them as more and more houses were destroyed. Those whose homes remained refused to leave the area, stoically saying that the Luftwaffe weren’t going to chase them out, but Hilda had found it hard to listen to. If her parents had left Battersea, they’d still be alive. She had to get Ellen to safety and was still waiting to hear from Gertie, but the thought of parting with her daughter was almost more than she could bear. With her parents gone and Doug away, Ellen was all she had left.

Hilda stood in the queue now, there to beg for accommodation again, and when it came to her turn she said, ‘Please, you must have something?’

‘We’re doing our best, Mrs Stone. We’ve got so many families to re-house and at least you’ve got temporary accommodation with Mrs Johnson.’

‘My daughter’s in a dreadful state. Her nerves have gone and she needs the stability of her own home again.’

‘She should be evacuated.’

‘Don’t you think I know that?’ Hilda snapped. ‘I’m waiting to hear from a friend and if she’ll take her in, my daughter will be sent to Somerset.’

‘Perhaps you should go with her.’

Hilda stared at the woman, mouth agape, yet as her words sunk in, they gave her food for thought.

‘If you ask me, it would be the ideal solution,’ the woman continued, ‘or you could try some private landlords. I’m afraid you aren’t a high priority, Mrs Stone, but if anything becomes available, we’ll let you know. Next, please!’

Dismissed, Hilda moved aside, her place quickly taken by the next person in the queue. It was hopeless, she thought, dejected as she made her way back to Mabel’s.

‘How did you get on?’ Mabel asked when Hilda returned, footsore and downcast.

‘It was a waste of time. I think you’d have to be kipping on the street before they’d help. Oh, I shouldn’t moan, Mabel. I know there’s worse off than me.’

‘Yeah, you’re right. Pat Randle got re-housed – not that it was much, just a couple of rooms – but within a week she was bombed out again. It’s terrible, Hilda, and I live in dread of this place being hit.’

Hilda didn’t say it, but she too lived with the same fear. It broke her heart to pass through the streets where she and her parents once lived, the area a vast, ugly bombsite now, and Mabel was right, the same thing could happen to this house, to this street, and they’d be homeless again. Was it any wonder that they were all so jumpy and Ellen a bundle of nerves?

‘You’re miles away, Hilda.’

‘Sorry, I was thinking about Ellen. If I don’t hear from Gertie soon, I’ll have to think about having her evacuated.’

‘It’d be for the best. I know your mum used to take you to play with Gertie, but after what came out later I wouldn’t fancy sending my kids to her.’

‘Don’t be daft. Gertie wouldn’t hurt Ellen, she loves children, and I’d rather she went there than to strangers. Mind you, something the housing officer said has set me thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘She suggested that I go to Somerset too.’ 11

‘What! But you’re a Londoner. You’d go mad living in the sticks.’

‘At one time I might have, but now I’m not so sure. The thought of being away from these bombing raids, of a bit of peace and quiet, is more than tempting.’

‘When this war started everyone said it’d be over in five minutes, but they were wrong. Families have been torn apart, mine included. Jack’s away fighting, my kids are miles from me and … and now you’re going too.’

Hilda was shocked to see tears in Mabel’s eyes. She wasn’t usually an emotional woman; more the take what life throws at you and get on with it type.

‘I’m only thinking about it, Mabel. I haven’t made my mind up yet.’

The air raid siren suddenly wailed and Mabel jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, sod it, not again.’

They hurried to the shelter, Hilda’s forehead creased with worry. ‘I hope Ellen’s all right. I wish I’d kept her at home now.’

‘She had to go back to school sometime, and, if you ask me, it’ll do her good to play with her friends again. Stop worrying. She’ll be fine.’

They sat down, Hilda’s heart racing with fear and her hand clutching the crucifix. Whenever she was frightened or deep in thought it was something she seemed to do automatically now and impatiently she let it go. It couldn’t help her, just as it hadn’t helped her mother, and she was just being silly.

Tense, they listened for the sound of bombers, but heard nothing and less than an hour later looked at each other with relief when the all-clear sounded. Back in the house Mabel immediately put the kettle on the gas.

‘I don’t know about you, mate, but false alarm or not, I could murder a cup of tea.’

‘I hate it being rationed. How are we doing?’

‘We’ve got enough and, anyway, I use the same tea leaves twice to stretch them out.’

‘Yes, I know. Sometimes I can see through the tea to the bottom of my cup.’

‘You cheeky mare. Still, it’s nice to hear you sounding a bit lighthearted again.’

‘I don’t feel lighthearted, Mabel. When I wake up in the morning the first thing I think about is my parents, and they seem to remain constantly on my mind.’

‘It’s early days yet, but it’ll get easier, you’ll see.’

They sat drinking their tea, Hilda trying to keep up with Mabel’s chatter while her mind kept drifting elsewhere – to Gertie and Somerset.

It was an hour later when the door opened and Ellen walked in.

‘Hello, pet. Did you have a nice day at school?’

‘It … it was all right,’ Ellen said, the stammer she’d developed evident. ‘I … I was frightened when th … the siren went off an … and we all had to go down to the basement again.’

‘It was a false alarm and nothing to worry about.’

‘M … Mr Green said th … the school will be closing. He gave us letters to … to bring home.’

Hilda took it, but after what Ellen had just said, she wasn’t surprised by the contents. It was a general letter, addressed to all the parents, saying that the school would be closing at the end of the month. As others had before him, the headmaster also urged that any children still in London should be evacuated. Hilda looked at Mabel, dreaded telling her, but the letter had sealed her decision.

‘I’ve got to get Ellen away from here, Mabel. If Gertie had got my last letter I’m sure she’d have replied by now. I’m going to write to her again.’

‘N … no, Mum. I don’t want to go away. I … I want to stay with you.’

‘Don’t fret, love. This time I’m going to ask Gertie if we can both stay with her.’ Smiling sadly at her friend, Hilda added, ‘I’m sorry, Mabel.’

‘It’s all right, I understand, but I’m gonna miss you,’ she said, a choke in her voice.

‘I’ll miss you too, and doing this blows any chance I’ve got of getting re-housed. I’m beginning to feel like a gypsy with no fixed abode, travelling from one place to another. I just hope it won’t be for long, that it’ll be over soon and we can come back to where we belong.’

‘Yes, mate, you’ll be back,’ Mabel said with a show of bravery now. ‘Once a Londoner, always a Londoner.’

Hilda knew she was putting on a brave front and smiled gratefully. If Mabel broke down she would too, but more tears were the last thing Ellen needed to see. Yes, Gertie would take them in, she was sure of it, and a little time in the country was just what Ellen needed.

It would be hard to leave her friends, especially Mabel, but in Somerset they’d be safe, Gertie’s home providing a haven until soon, she was sure, this dreadful war would be over.