Moonlight and Ashes (3 page)

‘Why can’t I? Would you really care?’

Maggie stared into the depths of the fire, her heart fluttering with shock. There was so much she wanted to say, but she and David had missed their chance many years ago, and now it was too late. Perhaps it would be better if he did leave, for being so near him and seeing him so often was almost painful.

‘I’m just worried that you might get hurt, that’s all,’ she muttered, and her heart was breaking as she saw the hope in his eyes die.

‘If everyone thought like that, no one would go. Anyway, if things carry on the way they are, no one will have a choice. The Germans have already invaded Poland and I reckon it won’t be long before they start on us.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said dully, and they lapsed into silence as she tried to imagine her life without him.

 

From their place at the kitchen table the twins sat watching their father. He was standing in front of the mirror above the mantelpiece smoothing Brylcreem onto his jet-black hair. When he was ready, he stepped towards the door. ‘Best behaviour for your mother then, else it’ll be a taste o’ me belt fer you pair when I get back in,’ he warned, then without so much as another word he opened the back door and stepped outside. The fire flickered and spat in the draught, and then he was gone. Maggie hurried to place the black-out curtain back over the door.

‘Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t snow tonight,’ she commented.

‘Cor, that would be smashin’,’ Danny said, excited. ‘We could go sledgin’ in the park, Lizzie.’

His sister was just about to reply when a tap came on the back door and seconds later, Mrs Massey, their neighbour, popped her head round it.

‘Is it all clear?’ she asked.

Maggie grinned. ‘If you mean, has Sam gone to the pub yet, yes he has.’

‘Good.’ Mrs Massey barged into the room slamming the door behind her against the increasingly bitter night. Waving a bottle of stout in the air, she announced, ‘My Fred treated me afore he went out an’ I thought you might like to share a sup wi’ me. I’ve got half a dozen Woodbines an’ all so we’re all set fer a good Friday night, by the looks of it.’ Peering at Lucy, who was by now fast asleep in her crib again, she settled herself into the fireside chair.

Danny and Lizzie exchanged an amused glance. They thought the Masseys were a very funny couple. Mrs Massey was huge, with chins that wobbled when she laughed and a backside that she had to squeeze into a chair, whilst Mr Massey was a tiny little man, stick-thin, who only reached up to his wife’s shoulder. Even so, they seemed happy and had produced five children. The two oldest girls were married, the oldest boy had just joined up, and the two younger children, Carol and Tony, had recently been evacuated.

It was these two that Maggie asked after now as she set two glasses on the table. ‘Any news of the kids?’

The big woman’s lower lip quivered. ‘Matter o’fact, I had a letter from both of ’em just this mornin’. Seems they’re in a village somewhere on the outskirts o’ Nuneaton, but they ain’t livin’ together. Tony is with a farmer an’ his wife, an’ havin’ the time of his life if his letter is owt to go by. Carol is with a childless couple an’ sounded a bit homesick in the letter.’

Maggie squeezed her hand sympathetically. ‘You must miss them.’

‘Yes, I do,’ Mrs Massey admitted. ‘Though God knows why. The little buggers were allus up to some mischief or another at home, but it ain’t the same wi’out’em an’ Lord only knows how we’ll feel at Christmas.’ She looked across at the twins, clean and ready for bed after their Friday-night baths. Danny was sketching on a large pad and Lizzie had settled down at the table to do a jigsaw. ‘Yer really should be thinkin’ o’ gettin’ them pair somewhere safe an’ all,’ she advised. ‘You’d never forgive yourself if there were any bombin’ an’ any harm come to ’em. They’ve had no choice but to send the kids out of London, an’ they reckon that soon we won’t have a choice either.’

‘Oh, I don’t think there’s much chance of that,’ Maggie said quickly, eager to change the conversation in front of the twins.

Mrs Massey sniffed, and hitching up her huge breasts, she took a slurp from her glass and stared into the flickering fire.

Half an hour later, when the twins were in bed, she resumed the earlier conversation almost immediately.

‘You’ll have to let ’em go soon, love, so yer may as well make yer mind up to it,’ she said gently. ‘Only reason they weren’t sent off wi’ mine was ’cos they had the chickenpox an’ were too bad to go. But it’ll be different now they’re well. They could well decide to evacuate’em any day now.’

‘
No!
’ Maggie flushed as she realised that she had raised her voice. She couldn’t pretend that her marriage had been made in heaven, but she could just about endure it while she had her children around her. God knows what she’d do if the twins weren’t there. Suddenly tired, she sank down onto the old settee. ‘I’d just like to keep the family together until after Christmas,’ she muttered, and her neighbour’s kind heart went out to her.

‘I know yer would, love, an’ God willin’, yer shall. I’m only warnin’ yer ’cos this bloody war is goin’ from bad to worse. The first bombs could be dropped on London any day now, an’ then it’s only a matter o’ time till they start to really target Coventry. Think of it - most o’ the car factories in the city are turning out ammunition, tanks an’ aircraft parts already, so it’s obvious the Germans are gonna take a pot at them. I ain’t sayin’ it to frighten yer. This ain’t easy fer none of us. There’s my Will out there somewhere, bless him. I ain’t heard hide nor hair of him since he joined up last month, an’ who knows how long it will be till I see him again? They could send him anywhere. Could have already, fer all I know. An’ then there’s my Fred - he’s already put hisself up for fire watch, should he be needed.’

‘I know how you feel,’ Maggie replied. ‘David has gone off to camp too, but as yet he hasn’t let us know where he is.’ Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she patted her neighbour’s hand. Mrs Massey was a big woman with a big mouth at times. But for all that she had a big heart too, and during the years that Maggie had lived next door to her, she had proved herself to be a good friend and neighbour time and time again.

‘We’ll get through this together,’ Maggie said now.

Mrs Massey nodded. ‘Aye, happen we will, love. By the way, word has it that they’re startin’ to put the Anderson shelters up in Swanshill next week, so be prepared.’

Maggie gulped deep in her throat - it was all so much to take in.

 

Upstairs, the twins plopped miserably onto the side of Lizzie’s bed. Friday nights weren’t the same any more without Uncle David’s visits. Only last week, he had called round whilst their father was at work to tell them that he would be going away. He had looked very smart, but different somehow in his Army uniform. Their mum had sobbed and clung on to him as if she might never see him again, and that had brought tears to Lizzie’s eyes too.

Their mother had told them that now Uncle David had gone, he might be away for a very long time. The thought made the sides of Lizzie’s mouth droop. They all missed him already. All except her father, that was. He and her Uncle David didn’t get on, for some reason.

The twins had lost count of the number of times they had heard the two men rowing. It was usually following one of their mother’s accidents. Maggie always seemed to have a black eye or a split lip or something, but whenever they asked her what she’d done, she said she had just slipped or bumped herself somehow. And with that, the twins had to be content, although at eight years old they were beginning to notice that the accidents always seemed to happen after they had heard their father shouting while they lay in bed.

‘It won’t be the same without Uncle David here fer Christmas,’ Lizzie reflected sadly as she lounged on her candlewick bedspread, the rags in her hair dancing like snakes. ‘Where do yer reckon he’s gone?’

‘I heard Mam tellin’ Dad as he’d gone somewhere up North fer trainin’,’ Danny replied gloomily.

Dropping onto the bed beside her, their fingers entwined as they sat thinking of their uncle, but then their mother’s voice interrupted their melancholy thoughts.

‘I hope you two are in bed?’ she called. ‘I shall be up to check in a minute, and make sure you have that light out else we’ll have Mr Hutton hammering on the door.’

Guiltily, Danny clicked off the light and side-by-side they clambered into Lizzie’s bed.

‘Ooh, it’s freezin’,’ Lizzie complained as the cold sheets settled around her thin legs. ‘Mam’s forgot to put the hot bottle in to take the chill off.’

‘Never mind. Cuddle up to me an’ you’ll soon get warm,’ Danny told her reassuringly.

They lay in silence for some time until eventually Lizzie asked, ‘You don’t think Mam will send us away, do yer, Danny?’

He shrugged in the darkness. ‘Shouldn’t think so. It’s London they’re bombin’, not Coventry. I reckon we’re as safe as houses.’

On that optimistic note they drifted off to sleep.

 

It was some time later when the sound of the back door slamming brought Danny springing awake. Knuckling the sleep from his eyes, he eased his other arm from around Lizzie and inched towards the edge of the bed. Then, very carefully, so as not to disturb his sister, he swung his legs down onto the cold lino and crept towards the door.

‘Ah, bin cryin’ again, have yer?’ he heard his father jeer. ‘Missin’ that brother o’ mine, are yer?’

‘Of course I’m not,’ his mother said hotly. ‘I’m just a bit low, that’s all, worrying about what’s going to happen to us. And keep your voice down. You’ll wake the children.’

Silent as a little mouse, Danny tiptoed to the top of the stairs and listened.

‘Huh! The children. It’s always the bloody children,’ his father exploded. ‘Sometimes I reckon you’d be happier if I were to join up an’ all!’

Danny waited for his mother to deny it, and when no response was forthcoming he frowned into the darkness. Why were his mam and dad always shouting at each other? He’d never heard his mam shout at Uncle David. But then Uncle David was different to his dad. He’d always made time for them, whereas his dad just made them feel that they were nothing but nuisances and always in the way.

‘I don’t want this to turn into an argument, Sam,’ Maggie said wearily. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate at the minute. I’ve got to take the children to get their gas masks and identity discs next week, and on top of that, the men are coming to fit the Anderson shelter out the back.’

‘I don’t know why yer don’t just let the kids go with the next lot of evacuees,’ Sam told her gruffly.

Danny heard her horrified gasp. ‘How can you say that? They’re your children as well, Sam!’

‘That’s as may be. But go on - admit it - don’t yer just wish they weren’t, eh? If they’d been
David’s
kids yer could all have lived happy ever after, couldn’t yer? It’s as plain as the nose on yer face that you all think more o’ him than me.’

‘That’s a terrible thing to say!’ Maggie cried, but even Danny didn’t find her words convincing.

A funny fluttery feeling started in the pit of his stomach as he heard something overturn and crash to the floor. Then he heard his mother cry out, and unable to bear it, he fled down the stairs and threw the kitchen door open. His father was grasping Maggie’s arm, his fist raised. There was blood trickling from her nose and she was crying, but the second she saw Danny she forced a smile to her face.

‘Hello, love, what are you doing out of bed? I just knocked the chair over and your dad was helping me pick it up.’ She shook Sam’s hand from her arm and glared at him as she righted the chair, then crossing to Danny she gently herded him back towards the stairs door. ‘Come on now, pet. It’s very late. You get back up to bed, eh?’

Danny glanced at his father, who had lit a cigarette and was standing in a cloud of smoke. His face was very red, and the boy could smell the beer on his breath even from across the room.

‘Go on, yer nosy little bugger,’ the man belched. ‘Do as yer mam tells yer, or do yer need me to help yer up the stairs?’

As Sam’s hand shifted to his belt and he swayed unsteadily towards him, Danny turned and sprinted away to the safety of his room, taking the steep stairs two at a time. Once there, he leaned heavily against the door as his heart settled back into some sort of normal rhythm. What had his dad meant about their mam wishing Uncle David had been their dad? It was all very confusing. He was relieved to see that Lizzie was still fast asleep, her thumb jammed tight in her mouth. And what had his mam meant when she said that he and Lizzie were to be issued with gas masks and identity discs? Danny knew what they were; he had seen them on children in the
Pathé News
at the pictures at the Saturday-morning matinées. All the children in London had them, but why would they need them in Coventry? They were safe here. It was London that was being bombed.

For once he passed Lizzie’s bed and, creeping over to his own, he slithered inside, gasping as he thrust his feet down into the cold sheets. Apart from the fact that half his classmates had been sent to the country and there wasn’t so much food in the shops, life in Coventry seemed to be pretty much as it had been before the war, so why was everyone so worried?

Straining his ears into the blackness he was relieved to hear that all was quiet, so turning on his side, he shut his eyes tight and soon slipped into an uneasy sleep.

 

The following Monday, as the twins walked home from school, they were shocked to see huge open-backed lorries lined up the length of Clay Lane. Piled high on the backs of them were huge sheets of corrugated iron that workmen were throwing onto the ground.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Lizzie, totally bewildered.

‘These must be for the Anderson shelters Mam were on about,’ Danny replied wisely. ‘I reckon we’re going to get one in our back yard.’