Escape from the Blitz Read online

  There was another problem, too. For the first time ever, it seemed Mum and Dad didn’t want me to go to bed. And when I did, they kept coming up to see me.

  “All right, love?” Mum would say. “Need anything, sweetheart?” said Dad.

  They were both weepy and sad-looking, and that nearly set me off once or twice. In the end I had to pretend I was asleep. I wasn’t, though. I spent half the night wide awake, terrified Smoky wouldn’t turn up early enough in the morning. But he did, and everything went smoothly – undies and socks out and hidden, Smoky in and fast asleep.

  Then disaster struck. Dad suddenly appeared in my bedroom doorway.

  “Thought you might need a hand with your case, sweetheart,” he said, striding over and picking it up. It was a good job I’d managed to get it shut before he’d come in. “Blimey, what have you got in here? The bloomin’ thing must weigh a ton!”

  “What? Nothing!” I squeaked and tried to grab it. “I can carry it!”

  But Dad had already set off down the stairs, the case swinging in his hand. I’d planned to be careful with it, and I had a sudden vision of poor Smoky being wildly thrown about inside. I winced, expecting to hear him start howling at any second. By some miracle he didn’t. Dad dumped the case by the front door and not a peep came out of it.

  Mum insisted on cooking me an enormous breakfast – bacon, eggs, fried bread – and she and Dad sat there watching me eat every mouthful. “Come on, we’re supposed to be at school by nine,” Dad said at last. “We mustn’t be late.”

  I was wearing my school dress and shoes and my school cardigan. Mum helped me into my coat. I scowled when I saw a label tied to one of the buttons with a bit of string. My name – ‘Elizabeth Joan Grimwade’ – and my date of birth were written on one side, and the name and address of my school on the other. Elizabeth is my proper name, but it always looks really peculiar to me when I see it written down – everyone calls me Betty. But that wasn’t the only reason I didn’t like the label.

  “I don’t really have to wear this, do I?” I said. “It makes me feel like a parcel.”

  “Sorry, love,” said Mum, smiling. “There’s no getting out of it, I’m afraid.”

  “You’re not like the parcels we see down at the sorting office,” said Dad. “They don’t talk back and give us loads of cheek. Right, I’ll carry your case…”

  My school is a ten-minute walk away, and I didn’t take my eyes off that case till we arrived. But then I looked around, surprised. Three double-decker buses were parked by the school gates, and a crowd of parents and children stood beside them. I reckoned about half the school was there, mostly the older kids. There were little ones as well, holding on to their parents or their big brothers or sisters. Most of the grown-ups were pretending to be cheerful, but some of the mums were crying.

  I heard some of the parents asking our headmaster, Mr Jenner, how long the evacuation was likely to last, and he said he had no idea. “That depends on the government,” he said. “And the Germans, of course.” I could tell that was probably the wrong thing to say. The mums who seemed the most upset just cried louder.

  All the kids had cases and labels on their coats like me, and carried their gas masks too. That was something else the government said we had to do, in case the Germans attacked us with poison gas. The masks were horrible rubbery things that came in a cardboard box with a string attached so you could carry it over your shoulder.

  I could see Mr Jenner in the crowd – he’s tall and has white hair. He was doing a lot of shouting, and I have to say things seemed slightly out of control. I spotted several other teachers behind him, including Miss Harrison, my teacher from last year. She’s young, dark-haired and pretty, and really nice. She saw Mum and Dad and me and came over to us, pushing through the crowd.

  Everything happened quickly after that. “Lovely to see you, Betty!” she said, smiling. “You’re in Bus A with me!”

  Somebody grabbed my case and put it upstairs on the bus with all the other cases, and the teachers started to hustle us on too. Mum hugged and kissed me and so did Dad, and Mum said something I didn’t catch. Then I was on the bus looking out of the window as it drove off.

  Mum and Dad waved, and I felt tears running down my cheeks. I waved back at them, but soon the bus went round the corner and I couldn’t see them any more.

  Smoky and I were on our way to Devon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We were going to Paddington train station first, and the journey across London in the bus was very strange. It was a bit like being on a school outing, and some of the kids were laughing and singing. A lot weren’t though, especially the little ones. Most were sitting in their seats looking worried, and quite a few were sobbing. Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison were on our bus, and Miss Harrison spent a lot of time trying to calm them.

  But the strangest thing for me was the view through the bus windows. Bermondsey is just over the river from the centre of London, and Mum and Dad had often taken me to ‘see the sights’ like St Paul’s Cathedral or the Tower of London, or to head ‘up west’, to look at the posh shops on Oxford Street.

  It all looked different now. Our buses went over Westminster Bridge, so we got a glimpse of the Houses of Parliament. There were sandbags stacked up round the gates and soldiers on patrol behind them. The entrances of other buildings we passed also had sandbags round their doors, and in some of the squares and parks gangs of workmen were busily digging big holes – for air-raid shelters, I realized.

  There were always soldiers at Buckingham Palace, to protect the King and Queen and their daughters, Elizabeth and Margaret. But they’d swapped their red jackets for brown ones, and those funny furry hats they wear for tin helmets. Then in Hyde Park we saw even more soldiers. They were winching a giant balloon up into the sky. It was bigger than our bus, a great silver thing like some gigantic toy. I asked Miss Harrison what it was, and she said it was a ‘barrage’ balloon. They were supposed to make it difficult for German planes to fly low over London.

  I was beginning to wonder if there might actually be something in what the grown-ups were saying about a war. They certainly seemed to be taking the idea pretty seriously… But then I suddenly realized I hadn’t given poor Smoky a single thought since we’d got on the bus, and I felt terrible. What if the holes I’d made in the case weren’t enough? What if Smoky was gasping for breath at that very second?

  “Are you all right, Betty?” said Miss Harrison. “You’ve gone awfully pale.”

  She was standing next to where I was sitting, a concerned look on her face. “I’m fine, Miss,” I said. “Er… I didn’t sleep very well last night, that’s all.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Miss Harrison said, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s hard to be separated from your parents. But don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

  Of course, I smiled like a good little girl. I couldn’t tell her the truth: that I hadn’t been lying awake worrying about being separated from Mum and Dad. I had to keep Smoky secret from her and Mr Jenner too. So I sat there, staring at the ceiling above my head with my fingers crossed, hoping Smoky was all right.

  Moments later, we arrived at Paddington. The buses stopped in the street and I jumped straight out of my seat. “Can I get my case, sir?” I asked Mr Jenner.

  “No, you can’t,” he snapped. “I’ll find a couple of porters to put our bags in the train’s luggage compartment. Get the children organized, Miss Harrison.”

  That was easier said than done. We tumbled off the buses, but dozens of other buses were already there and more were arriving all the time, each bringing kids and teachers from every part of London. Miss Harrison had to shout a lot to make sure we stayed together and didn’t get mixed up with any other schools. Mr Jenner was gone a while, but he came back at last, bringing a couple of porters pulling big trollies.

  They immediately started chucking our cases onto them. I could hardly bear to look, but luckily, soon I didn’t have to. Mr Jenner marched us off to o
ur train.

  There was more chaos inside the station. The platforms were packed with kids and teachers yelling at them, or at each other. Nobody seemed to know which trains to get on, and it took ages to find ours. But we did in the end, and Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison herded us into the right carriage. I managed to grab a window seat, and I was relieved to see our cases being loaded into a carriage further down. Eventually the train pulled out and we began to leave good old London behind. I almost started blubbing again – and quite a few of my schoolmates did start crying.

  I have to say that what followed was one of the worst days of my life. The journey lasted for hours, and I was worried sick about Smoky the whole way.

  I desperately wanted to go and check on him, so I asked Miss Harrison if I could fetch something from my case. But that wasn’t allowed. I thought about sneaking off when I went to the toilet – there was one at the end of the carriage. But Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison watched us like hawks, and I knew I’d never get away with it.

  In the end I just sat staring out of the window, watching towns and villages and fields crawl past. Miss Harrison made everyone sing songs like ‘Wish Me Luck As You Wave Me Goodbye’ and ‘Doing the Lambeth Walk’. My schoolmates seemed more cheerful now, even the little ones, almost as if this was only an outing.

  I didn’t want to sing. I couldn’t be happy till I knew Smoky was all right. I didn’t talk to any of my schoolmates, not even when they tried to talk to me.

  “Cheer up, Betty,” said Miss Harrison. “You mustn’t be downhearted.”

  I looked at her. But I didn’t say a word.

  CHAPTER SIX

  We didn’t get to where we were supposed to be till the early evening. The train kept stopping and starting again, and at one point Mr Jenner had a blazing row with the driver. So, as you can imagine, nobody was singing by the time we arrived, not even Miss Harrison. We’d eaten our packed lunches ages ago, and we were all starving. Everybody was tired and fed up, and most of the little ones were snivelling.

  The tiny station we finally stopped at was in the middle of nowhere. We tumbled out of the carriages and stood on the platform, a hundred kids huddled behind our teachers. Some people were waiting for us – a vicar with a bald head and glasses, a couple of snooty-looking women in posh clothes, and an elderly man holding a clipboard. He was frowning, and the other three didn’t seem too happy either.

  Mr Jenner strode up to him, and they shook hands. But they were soon arguing.

  “I’m sorry, we simply weren’t expecting so many,” said the man, glancing at his clipboard. “We were told we’d have to find homes for no more than twenty.”

  “That’s utterly ridiculous!” said Mr Jenner, his face red. “What do you expect us to do now? We can’t just turn round and take them back to London, can we?”

  Miss Harrison and the other teachers were looking worried, and my heart sank. I couldn’t face the idea of getting on the train again. Judging by the moans and groans of the kids around me, nobody else could either. But then we were saved.

  “All right, all right!” said the man with the clipboard at last, raising his voice. “We’ll have to make do somehow. You’d better come to the village hall.”

  It turned out there were no buses, so we had to walk, and carry our own cases. The train driver and our teachers were handing them out, and I barged through to the front of the queue. I grabbed my case and hurried further along the platform, away from everybody else. I put it down and knelt beside it as if I was checking my shoe buckle. I didn’t dare open it. I couldn’t let Smoky out – if he was even still alive.

  “Smoky! Can you hear me?” I whispered. Silence. I said it again, and heard a faint “Miaow!” I was so relieved I hugged the case and almost started blubbing. He sounded a bit cross, but I couldn’t blame him for that. I’d be cheesed off if I’d been stuck in a case for as long as he had. But at least he wasn’t dead! “You’ll have to be quiet now, Smoky,” I said. “I’ll get you out soon, I promise…”

  I picked up the case – Dad had been right, it was heavy – and joined the others. We trudged out of the station in a straggly column behind Mr Jenner, who was following the man with the clipboard. It was getting dark, so I couldn’t see much of the village. Not that there was much to see – just a street with a butcher’s, a greengrocer, a pub and a church with a small hall behind it, which is where we were heading.

  There were more people inside the hall, some ladies behind a table loaded with plates of sandwiches and cakes and jugs of orange squash and lemonade. A crowd of kids made a dash for it, pushing and shoving each other out of the way to stuff sandwiches in their mouths and get a drink. “Children, please!” yelled Mr Jenner. “Remember your manners…” But it was too late. Soon everything had vanished.

  The ladies behind the table looked horrified, and tut-tutted and muttered among themselves. The original group from the station were doing the same, but by that point I couldn’t have cared less. I felt so tired I didn’t know how I was still standing up. Everybody else had put their cases down, but I held on to mine. I wasn’t going to be parted from it ever again, not if I could help it.

  The next half an hour was a bit of a blur. The grown-ups did a lot of arguing, and more arrived to join in. Miss Harrison explained to us what was happening. Some families who had volunteered to take in one child now said they’d have two, even three. Families from other villages had been asked if they’d help out, and the hall gradually began to empty. Eventually only about a dozen of us kids were left.

  By then I could barely keep my eyes open. I remember standing in a line while a couple of even more snooty-looking women walked along, staring at us. “They seem rather… common,” one whispered to her pal. “Are you sure they’re clean?”

  That woke me up a bit. It wasn’t a nice thing to say, and I nearly told her so. But I didn’t. I was glad to see Miss Harrison giving the woman a look, though.

  Then another posh lady arrived. She was wearing a nice skirt, a jacket with a fur collar, and a hat with a narrow brim – I think it’s called a Trilby. I could tell the grown-ups thought she was important. They were practically tripping over themselves to help her.

  “Lady Musgrave, so good of you to come!” said the man with the clipboard. “We hardly expected someone of your standing to get involved in this…”

  “Nonsense, we must all do our bit,” she said, like she was telling him off.

  Blimey, I thought. She was so posh it probably cost five bob just to talk to her. Someone like that wouldn’t want a Betty from Bermondsey staying with her, would she now? But Miss Harrison pointed at me, and her Ladyship came over.

  “How do you do, Betty?” she said. “Would you like to come with me?”

  I picked up my case and followed her into the dark night. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so nervous. I had no idea what was lying in store for me…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  At least I wouldn’t have to walk this time – there was a car waiting outside the hall. I’d never been in one before – ordinary people couldn’t afford to have cars, only posh people with lots of money. The car certainly looked very impressive, even in the dark. The driver jumped out and held the back door open for Lady Musgrave. He was short and stocky and almost as old as Mr Jenner, with grey hair and a grumpy face.

  “This is Betty, Arthur,” said Lady Musgrave. “You can take us home now.”

  “Right you are, your Ladyship,” Arthur growled. He had a proper country accent, like a farmer in a film. He frowned and reached for my case, and I couldn’t bring myself to let it go. We had a brief tussle, but he won and slung it in the boot.

  I winced inside – poor Smoky! – but there was nothing I could do about it. So I sat in the back seat of the car with Lady Musgrave, and Arthur got in and drove us out of the village. It was warm and cosy in the car, and the seat was soft and deep and very comfortable. Soon I felt more tired than ever, and couldn’t stop yawning.

  “Poor you!” murmured L
ady Musgrave. “Has it been a terribly long day?”

  “Not half,” I said. I felt peculiar, almost as if I was dreaming. The car’s lights lit up the road ahead, but there was nothing on either side of us except blackness.

  “Well, you’ll soon be able to relax,” said Lady Musgrave. “It’s not far now.”

  A few moments later we slowed down and turned off the road. We went up a long drive lined with trees that loomed out of the dark, and stopped at last in front of a big house. We all got out of the car and Arthur went round the back to take my case from the boot. Then he stomped off with it towards the house. He pushed open the front door and disappeared inside. Lady Musgrave and I followed him.

  It’s hard to describe exactly how I felt at that moment. I’d never been in a house like that, so I suppose I was stunned. The hallway was enormous, probably about the size of my entire house, with several doors on both sides. There was a huge flight of stairs in the middle, like something from a palace in a Hollywood movie.

  “Hilda, we’re back!” Lady Musgrave called out. “Is supper ready?”

  One of the doors opened and a woman came out. She was short and round, with frizzy dark hair trapped in a bun. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was wearing a pinny a couple of sizes too small. “It is,” she said. “But it’s only sandwiches, mind.”

  “I’m sure that will do splendidly!” said Lady Musgrave. “And is our guest’s room ready too? I have a feeling she’ll want to go to bed as soon as she’s eaten.”