Jenny's War (28 page)

‘What about the rest of the chickens and ducks?’ Dot asked suddenly.

‘I’ll kill them all termorrer afternoon and we’ll take them with us.’

‘But if we’re stopped . . .’

‘We won’t be. We’ll set off just before six o’clock. That’s when the local copper comes off his day shift.’

‘How d’you know he’s on his day shift now? He might be on nights and just starting.’

‘Because I’ve been watching ’im for a while an’ timing ’im, that’s how. He’s got two days left to do before he finishes his run of days.’ Arthur smirked. ‘Never think to alter their routine, do they?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Don’t know yet. We’ll just set off and see where we land up.’

‘But—’

‘Just do it, Dot.’

Jenny didn’t have much packing to do; it was already done in the suitcase still hiding under her bed. The following evening she sat on the edge of her bed, swinging her legs and biting her lip. If only she’d run away before now. The railway wasn’t far away, but if she went with her mother and Arthur, they might really end up in the middle of nowhere and it might not be so easy to get to a train station.

She held her breath. Should she go now? Before they left. If she crept down the stairs with her case whilst her mother was banging about in her bedroom packing all her clothes and belongings, could she make it to the station before she was missed? Arthur was in the back garden killing the chickens; he wouldn’t be in for a while.

Jenny pulled on her socks and shoes and reached for her coat. Thrusting her arms into the sleeves, she picked up her suitcase and had already begun to move towards the door when she heard her mother shouting. ‘Jen – Jen. Come here. I need some help.’

Jenny stood for a moment, undecided. Should she make a dash for it? But if her mother came looking for her, she’d be missed straight away. Maybe Dot wouldn’t come looking, maybe—

She heard her mother’s bedroom door open and Dot’s yell. ‘
Jen!
Where are you, you lazy little bugger? Come and give me a hand.’

With a sigh, Jenny put her case back on the bed and took off her coat.

‘Coming, Mum,’ she shouted back, resigned to being stuck with the two of them for a little while longer.

They set off a few minutes before six, Jenny sitting in the back huddled against a mound of dead chickens and ducks hidden beneath a blanket. The smell made her feel sick, but she dared not make any complaint; Dot was in a bad mood and there was a row erupting already in the front seats of the van as they drove away from the cottage.

‘Where are we going, I’d like to know?’

‘I told you, Dot, I don’t know myself yet. Give it a rest, will yer?’

‘Give it a rest, he says. Give it a rest. Dragged halfway round the country in the middle of the night.’

‘Six o’clock’s hardly the middle of the night. It’s still light and we’re meant to be off to see yer mam. Remember?’

‘I meant when we left London.’

Arthur couldn’t argue with that one.

As they reached the outskirts of Sheffield, Arthur said, ‘I’m just going to drop these birds off at this butcher I’ve been dealing with.’

‘He won’t be open now, will he?’

‘He lives above the shop.’

They pulled off the main road into a side road and then turned again into an alley that ran at the back of the row of shops and houses. Arthur stopped the vehicle and switched off the engine. ‘Wait here. I won’t be long.’

‘You’d better not be,’ Dot muttered.

Minutes later, the back doors of the van opened and a small, portly man stood beside Arthur. He looked shocked when he saw Jenny and took a step backwards. He recovered quickly to joke, ‘I didn’t think you meant that kind of a bird, Arthur.’

Arthur grinned and winked at Jenny. ‘She’s not for sale, mate. Far too valuable, is our Jen.’

He had an easy, bantering relationship with his partner in crime, but Jenny glared at the man as if he was personally responsible for Arthur’s criminal ways. He was not, of course, but he was encouraging her so-called stepfather by being an outlet for stolen goods.

‘We’re having to move on, Jim. These’ll likely be the last for a while. But I’ll be in touch if things pick up again.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Wherever we can find a place.’

‘You can stay here for a night or two, if you like.’

Overhearing the man’s offer, Dot was out of the front seat and moving round to the back of the van.

‘That’s real kind of you – Jim, is it?’ She flashed her smile at him and fluffed her hair. The man blinked behind his round spectacles and turned pink. Dot was flirting with him. ‘But won’t your wife mind?’

‘Er – I haven’t got a wife,’ he stammered. ‘I live on my own. But there’s a spare bed all made up. My brother comes down from York to see me now and again and stays the night.’

Dot linked her arm through his. ‘What? A nice man like you not married? I can’t believe it.’

Jenny sighed inwardly and closed her eyes momentarily. Dot’s flirting always embarrassed her. Her mother hadn’t been so bad just lately, since she’d been with Arthur. They’d been together for nearly four years now and that was a long time for Dot to stay with one man. Jenny glanced at Arthur, but he was just grinning, backing Dot in making up to Jim as it would earn them a bed for the night at least.

‘That’s very kind of you, mate, ain’t it, Dot? We’ll take you up on that offer. It’s getting late for Jen, here.’

Jim peered into the van as if he’d forgotten Jenny’s existence. ‘Oh yes, well, I haven’t actually got a bed for her.’

‘She’ll be all right on the floor. Couple of blankets and a pillow an’ she’ll be as right as nine pence.’

‘I might be able to get a mattress from next door. It’ll be uncomfortable on the floor for the little lass.’ The man was considerate, Jenny thought. She’d give him that.

‘No, no, don’t put yourself out. It’s only for one night till we can have a look around. She’ll be fine,’ Arthur insisted.

But the one night turned into two and then three and four. For once Dot discovered the shops in the city, she refused to leave. ‘Just one more day, Arfer, there’s a dear,’ she wheedled. ‘Jim doesn’t mind, do you, Jim?’

And the portly little man turned pink once more.

A week to the day since they’d first arrived, Arthur finally persuaded Dot that they should move on.

‘If one of me mates from the wardens’ post sees me, they’ll wonder what I’m still doing here when I’m supposed to be down south.’

They set off, leaving the outskirts of the city, and headed back into the Derbyshire countryside, but further north than where they’d been before. They’d travelled about ten miles when they came to a huge lake.

‘What stunning views,’ Arthur said as they all got out of the van and stood admiring the sun shimmering on the stretch of water. ‘I’d love it if we could find a place somewhere round here.’

‘But it’s in the middle of nowhere,’ Dot wailed. ‘It was bad enough before, but here . . .’

Now she’d had a brief taste of city life once more, she couldn’t bear to be buried alive in the dales again. ‘No, Arthur, we’re not stopping here.’

‘We’ll do as I say, Dot. It’d be safe here and it’s still near enough to Sheffield for me to carry on with my warden’s duties.’

Jenny glanced at her mother and caught the gleam in Dot’s eyes. Now what’s she planning? the girl wondered.

‘Uncle Arthur—’

‘Dad,’ he reminded her. ‘We’re still the Mercer family and don’t you forget it.’ He tweaked her ear.

‘What’s those two towers at the end of the lake?’

Arthur squinted towards them. ‘Oh, I know where we are. This must be the Derwent reservoir. And they’re building another one somewhere near here and I seem to remember reading that they’re going to drown a couple of villages.’

Jenny gasped. ‘You mean, they’re going to drown the people?’

‘Don’t be daft, Jen. ’Course they aren’t. The folks’ll have to move out.’

‘Leave their homes?’

Arthur shrugged. It was no concern of his and he couldn’t have cared less. ‘That’s progress, Jen. The big cities need a supply of water from somewhere.’ But Jenny felt for the folks who were going to lose their homes. Maybe it was necessary to provide water for the big cities, but, nevertheless, it must be hard for the villagers.

‘Now.’ Arthur’s eyes were gleaming as an idea came to him. Jenny’s heart sank; she didn’t like that look. ‘If villagers are already leaving their homes, there’ll be some empty houses maybe going cheap to rent.’

Dot stared at him and Jenny trembled inwardly. Whatever was he suggesting? It was Dot who voiced their fears. ‘If they’ve gone, Arfer, then they’ve gone for a good reason. I’m not livin’ in no cottage that’s going to be flooded.’

Arthur laughed. ‘Yer silly mare. They won’t be flooding it yet. Work’s going a lot more slowly now because of the war. They can’t get the building materials so easily.’ He nodded towards the wall of the dam and the towers, indicating that something similar must be under construction for the new reservoir. His grin broadened. ‘In fact, I might see if there’s any work going. They’ll be short of labourers if a lot of the workers have been called up.’

‘What?’ Dot sneered. ‘With your bad heart? Yer can’t have it both ways, Arfer. Dodge the call-up and then get taken on to do heavy work.’

‘I s’pose you’re right. Anyway, ’ Arthur turned away from the picturesque view, ‘let’s go house hunting.’

They found a small stone cottage to rent on the outskirts of one of the villages due for eventual destruction. Jenny shivered, her sensitive soul already feeling the air of desolation and sadness. Several of the houses were deserted and the word was that the coming Christmas of 1942 would be the last that the residents would spend in their old homes. But Dot had more personal problems on her mind than where strangers were going to live. The cottage Arthur found was even more primitive than the one on Jack Fenton’s farm. There was an outside lavatory and no running water. It had to be carried from a well and heated in the range in the kitchen.

‘I’m not standing this for long, Arthur, I’ll tell you now.’ Dot was adamant.

‘You’ll have to stick it for a bit. I’ve signed up with the owner for a month.’

‘Well, you can unsign it, Arthur Osborne—’

‘Mercer,’ Arthur murmured automatically.

‘ – because me and Jen aren’t stopping here.’

‘Actually,’ Arthur said, ignoring Dot’s rant. ‘It might be better if we used the name Osborne.’ He turned to Jenny. ‘Can you remember to call yourself Jennifer Osborne from now on?’

Jenny stared at him. ‘When I start a new school, they sometimes ask to see my birth certificate.’

‘Tell ’em it got lost in the Blitz.’

More lies, she thought, and dropped her gaze.

‘What about the ration books,’ Dot asked. ‘They’re all in the name of Mercer. Even yours.’

Arthur shrugged. ‘It’s no bother getting new ration books. You just tell ’em we were bombed out in London and they were lost.’ He grinned. ‘You might even get some money out of ’em if you tell ’em we lost everything.’

Dot sniffed. ‘No doubt we have by now. Our old house will have been looted even if it hasn’t been bombed.’

‘There you are, then. It’ll be the truth.’

Dot snorted and almost smiled. ‘For once,’ she muttered.

‘She’ll have to go to school. I don’t want the attendance officer knocking on my door.’

‘Shouldn’t worry,’ Arthur grinned, ‘he’ll have to find her first. And where’s he going to look for Jennifer Osborne?’

Dot glared at him. ‘I don’t want her mooning about the place all day under my feet. Get her into a school.’

‘I’ve no idea where the nearest one is.’

‘Then ask the neighbours. Is there one in the village? They’ll know.’

Arthur laughed. ‘What neighbours? We’re right on the edge of the village. The nearest house is at least half a mile up the road.’

Dot shuddered and muttered, ‘And don’t I know it.’

‘Just like I like it,’ Arthur murmured, ignoring her. ‘Jen’ll be all right. I’ll get her some books and some paints. She loves drawing and painting. Encourage the kid, Dot, and she’ll be fine. I don’t want her going to school here, even if there is one.’

‘Drawing, indeed. What good’s that going to be? She’ll never get a job
drawing
.’

‘Maybe not, but if it keeps her happy and out of your hair . . . besides, she says she wants to go to art school when she’s older.’ Arthur knew more about Jenny’s ambitions than her mother did.

‘Art school? Whoever heard of her sort going to art school? Oh that little madam’s got ideas above her station and no mistake. I blame those folks she was with when she was ’vacuated. Far too la-di-dah for the likes of us.’

‘They were good to her, Dot.’

‘Yeah, too good. Gave her big ideas.’

‘No harm in having a dream,’ Arthur said and added wistfully. ‘I had dreams once. I was going to be an engineer. All set to take up an apprenticeship, I was, and then my dad died and I had to get a job quick.’

‘My heart bleeds,’ Dot said sarcastically. ‘And what sort of
job
did you get? Started the wheeling and dealing straight away, did yer?’

Arthur glared at her, but didn’t answer and Dot knew she’d hit the proverbial nail on the head.

Jenny wasn’t bothered about school either. Once Arthur had bought her paints and paper, she was quite happy drawing and painting to her heart’s content. The only drawback was that no one was interested in her efforts. Arthur merely glanced at them and said, ‘Very nice, Tich,’ whilst Dot’s lips curled in disapproval. His pet name had stuck even though now she was nearly as tall as her mother.

How she missed Charlotte’s smile and her constructive comments on her work, leaning over to show her with a swift and expert dash of the paintbrush how she could improve. If Jenny closed her eyes, she fancied she could smell Charlotte’s perfume close by. And then there’d been Georgie who’d hung her paintings on the wall in his room.

She hoped they were still there, waiting for him to come back.

Jenny was left alone at the cottage a lot. Whilst she missed the company of other children – she almost longed to be back with Beryl and Susan but for the trouble Arthur’s thieving had caused – she could wander the fields and the woods and the lanes around the edge of the reservoir untroubled. She saw very few people. In fact, she avoided meeting anyone, afraid that they’d ask why she wasn’t in school.