Barefoot and Lost (41 page)

 
   I told Pop, how worried I am
, I keep no secrets from him, knowing that; if I am wrong he will correct me and advise me. He thought for a long time, at first it seemed that he hadn’t heard me. ‘
Phil
, I’m not about to advise you but I will tell you how I see the situation.     

    
June
is under stress, most of it she has brought upon herself because she is a very determined and stubborn woman. That is not criticism, but her qualities are working against her, she believes she can do it all by herself, but of course she can’t, and won’t be told, she will have to find out for herself and, in the meantime her world is falling apart around her.’

     ‘Do you think I’m right and that horrible woman will send me away?’

     ‘As I said, I’m not advising you; think about it, she has given up her livelihood, by shutting down the house, there is no money comi
ng in, how long can you survive
as a family without income? Not long I’d wager. She is trying to turn the house, which is
entirely unsuitable, into a convalescent home. When the woman from the council comes to assess the situation regarding you, she will decide that the environment is unsuitable for the raising of a young person.

    
‘I knew it, they will send me away.’

     ‘Phil, we can’t be sure, we have to persuade June to listen to sense.’

     ‘How can I do that, she won’t listen to me?’

     ‘She might, if you spoke some words of wisdom
.’

     ‘I wouldn’t know what to tell her, anyway she won’t listen.’

     ‘She would, if I advised you on what to say; I have a better idea, why not write her a letter, her curiosity will make her read it.’

     ‘What, a note or a proper letter?’

     ‘A proper letter delivered by the postman. When she sees that you have gone to all that trouble to speak to her she is bound to read it.’ Pop goes to his writing desk, and returns with a writing pad and a pencil and sets them in front of me.

     ‘What shall I write?’

     ‘No
Phil
, you are going to write the letter in your own words, all I’m going to do is give you the words of wisdom.’ So I begin,

     
                                                                                            
Sunday 7
th
May 1947

    
Dear
June

     I have tried to speak to you but all you do is to tell me I’
m selfish, that is not true,
that is why I’m writing
,
so you will listen to what I have to say.

    
I’m very worried that
Miss
Peabody
will come and take me away becau
se
you are not looking after me.
W
e are not like a family should be
,
I spend too much time on my own
,
in a house that is not a home anymore
,
it is just an empty building with 3 people
in two rooms.
When Reg comes home you think you will be able to do the things for him that it takes a whole hospital to do
.
Y
ou can’t
,
or you will get ill trying
.
T
hen what
if
you are in hospital
,
who
will look
after Reg
, and
me?

    
I think that you should put Reg in a convolesent home
,
where he will be looked after properly until he gets better.
I think
you should
then
open up the house and get guests to stay so you can earn some money
.
I know you can’t do it on your own but you could get Connie or someone else to help you and I would help as well
,
we could then be a family again.

I love you
,
please don’t let me go back to a
home
;
please think about what I have said
.

Love from

Phillip
xx          

PS If Reg could speak he would not want you to kill yourself looking after him.

    
‘
That should get her to take notice
Phil
, as I said before, you have a way with words, aim to be a journalist, don’t be persuaded to be anything else.’

     ‘Okay I’ll try; do you have an envelope I can borrow?’

     ‘Well hardly borrow, yes and what about a stamp do you have money for the stamp?’

     ‘Yes, I will post it on my way home from school tomorrow.’

     Yesterday and today I have watched the legs of the postman through the top of the kitchen window as he walks along the pavement, once again he walks on past, having nothing for us. I don’t want to be here when June gets my letter, in fact I’m wishing that I had never sent it and am toying with the idea, that when it does arrive, of rushing up to the letter box and taking it before June sees it.

     School was particularly
horrible today, first thing, walking back from the bike shed,
M
ichael
and
I
had
a row
. I
t started with me telling him to shut up about his dad, that he was boring and a pain in the neck. He retaliated by trying to hit me, I blocked his punch and hit him; I was seen by the teacher on playground duty.
Michael
played all innocent, ‘He just hit me sir; no I don’t know why,’ the creep, that’s it he can go to hell, I would sooner have no friends than a creep like him. I was given detention at lunch, having to do lines, and then our form teacher has given me extra homework. As I was leaving school to come home I could see
Michael
with some boys from his class, he pointed at
me,
and they all laughed, some friend.

     Pushing open the front door I am surprised to see letters laying on the door mat, mine, and two others in brown envelopes. I put mine in my pocket, one of the others is a
bill,
but the other one is an OHMS letter, addressed to
Mrs.
Elizabeth
House
and stamped private and confidential, I turn it over in my hand, should I open it? I’d better not, best wait to see what
June
says. I have placed the letters on the dresser, propped up like mine from
Rachel
; I have decided to put mine there as well. The time is dragging, the curiosity is killing me what can that be, for Gran, after all she has been dead for ten months? Come on
June
hurry up.

     Eventually,
June
is coming down the steps, ‘Hello
June
, there are some letters on the dresser.’

     ‘What, another delivery, they must have gone back to two a day, like they did before the war.’

     ‘There is one addressed to Gran.’

     ‘Are you sure?’
June
lifts the letters, shuffles through them then opens the bill. ‘Oh hell I forgot to pay that, I hate getting red reminders.’

     ‘The one for Gran, you see it is addressed to her, are you going to open it?’

     ‘I’m not sure if I should, it is marked Private, and perhaps I should give it to my solicitor and let him deal with it.’

     ‘It might be nothing important; I think we should take a look first.’

     ‘You’re right it could be a reminder to return a library book.’
June
slits the envelope very carefully with Reg’s knife, inside is one sheet of white paper, ‘Oh my God
Phillip
, your
Uncle
Ron
is dead.’ She hands me the let
ter, I read: Dear Madam. Please
be advised, it is with regret we have to inform you that your son, Marine 543980, died from the result of his wounds, at the Military hospital in
Bergen
op Zoom, The Netherlands. His personal effects will be passed on to you in due course. Please confirm that this is your current address by telephoning the number and extension at the top of this letter. Handing the letter back to
June
I don’t know how I feel, I’m not sad, I hardly knew
Uncle
Ron
but the times I did do things with him we usually laughed a lot. He was good fun and always joking.

     ‘So I really am an orphan now.’

     ‘Looks that way Phillip, I’m so sorry, I’ll telephone that Major tomorrow and tell him about your Gran; what is this one, not more bad news I hope.’ Using Reg’s knife she carefully opens it,
I get up and leave the room. ‘I’m j
ust going to the toilet.’

     Half an hour has passed and still no word from June, I
’m w
onder
ing why I haven’t heard from her
, she can’t be angry or she would have been up here banging on my door. Cautiously, I open the kitchen door;
June
is sitting in Reg’s chair, her head in her hands, and my letter on her lap.

     She has been crying, she turns her head to the door, dabs her eyes with a
clenched handkerchief. I’m not sure what to do, I just stand looking at her, June gets up, comes to me, puts her arms around me and starts to sob, I can feel her tears on my forehead. Through her sobbing she says, ‘Oh Phillip what am I going to do?’

     ‘I think we should talk about it.’

     ‘You’re right, let me have a bath and tidy myself up; I’ll cook us some scrambled egg and then we can sit and talk about what options we have.’ We talked for hours, not only about our problem but about June
’s
life
, how she had been
a very young nurse in
France
, where she had lived as a child. She met Reg when he was wounded, eventually coming to
England
where they got married. I asked her did she speak French she told me fluently, like a native.

     ‘
June
, if you speak such good French, why weren’t you used as a spy in
France
?’

     ‘Phillip you ask the most unusual questions; as a matter of fact I volunteered,  but they turned me down as I was too old, so I became an ambulance driver, not quite the same excitement or risks, but still a worthwhile job don’t you think?’

     ‘
I would like to be a spy, but Pop says I should become a journalist.
’

     ‘I think he is right; let us go over our plan. One: I leave Reg in hospital until I can get him into a convalescent home. Two: I put this place up for sale and find a sm
aller
more suitable house, a bungalow preferably. Three: We carry on as we are, but you spend more time at
Sam
’s. Four: I spend more time with you, and Five: When all that is done we become a fully blown family again.’

     ‘What about like Pop said about getting guests to stay again, and then selling the house as a going business?’

     ‘I don’t think that is viable, it would take too long to get e
stablished and I don’t think we
have time, anyway, I couldn’t leave Reg in a home indefinitely. It would be a big risk investing in here and then not being able to sell, no, that option is out; agreed?’         

     ‘Agreed, shall we shake on it;
June
, you didn’t mind me writing to you, did you?’

     ‘No, it was what I needed, a sledge hammer to knock some sense into me, once again you did the right thing. By the way you spelt convalescent wrong, you left out an A and a C and added an O, it’s a French word, I should know, most important if you want to be a journalist you need to get your spelling correct; agreed?’

     ‘Agreed.’ We shake hands which develop into a hug and a kiss.

     Two weeks have passed. Reg has been in a convalescent home on the seafront, just past
Warrior Square
, for the past five days.
June
is taking me to see him tomorrow, Saturday being the best day as Pop spends all day at the Synagogue.

     The house is not sold but a buyer is interested, he wants to turn it into flats but has to wait for the Council’s approval I don’t know why they have to be involved, I’d have thought, if you owned it, you could do what you want but apparently not, I just want things to hurry along so we are a normal family again. June
is now working in the c
onvalescent home five nights a week. Those nights I sleep at Pop’s in Michael’s bed, I try not to think about it but sometimes, when I am just laying there, I feel as though he is in the room with me, it doesn’t scare me it gives me a sort of warm feeling. Staying at Pop’s on school days is good for my homework he doesn’t do it for me but points me in the right direction. He has a way of doing it that make me believe I have worked it out for myself,  now I feel I am no longer falling behind the best in the class.