Time to Say Goodbye (16 page)

But she had no chance to complete the sentence before a tanned face appeared in the aperture through which one gained admittance to the hut, a tanned face crowned with tight curls and enlivened by a wicked grin. ‘Hello, girls!’ said Woody. He turned to someone behind him. ‘I told you we’d find them here! Come along in, Josh, and let’s introduce ourselves.’

Imogen woke early because she had not pulled their bedroom curtains properly the night before and sunshine was pouring in through the gap. Cautiously, she sat up on one elbow so that she could see the alarm clock, which squatted on the small table between her bed and Debby’s. Today, she and the others had planned an expedition to a stretch of water which the boys told her was known locally as the Broad. Here, the boys knew from past experience, the water was deep enough for swimming, and Woody had assured Imogen that she would find it a lot easier to do a breast stroke or even a crawl rather than the dog paddle which was all their rather shallow river allowed.

The expedition to the Broad would be the furthest they had ever gone into strange country and Imogen hugged herself at the thought. They had not mentioned it to either Auntie or Jill. ‘I just know they’ll forbid it because they’re old, and old people don’t believe young ones have any sense,’ Rita had said crossly. ‘Must we mention the Broad, Imogen? After all, it’s a long way off so we may never actually reach it.’

Imogen glanced at the alarm clock, which in term time was set to go off at seven o’clock. They did not use it in the holidays; it simply wasn’t necessary. Mostly, the three of them got up at seven o’clock anyway because after they had done their chores, such as weeding the vegetable garden and looking after the poultry and Pandora the pig, they were free to please themselves. Of course there were other calls on their time: occasional shopping trips to the town and visits to the village for their rations and anything else they might find, but by and large Auntie and Jill were happy for them to take Rufus and a packed lunch, and stay out all day.

Naturally, both adults had insisted upon meeting the boys and had thoroughly approved of them both, had invited them to pop in whenever they were passing and had asked them to remember that the three girls were young and foolish.

‘We shall rely upon you lads to keep our girls safe,’ Auntie had said impressively. ‘Remember, they will follow your lead just to prove that girls are as good as boys, so make sure you lead them into good ways, and not into mischief.’

Lying in her bed now, for the clock read half past six, Imogen reminded herself guiltily that one of their ploys Auntie and Jill would never have countenanced had they known about it was the lookout. Debby had refused categorically to even ascend to the first branch, saying that she and Josh would remain on the ground, but thinking it over now Imogen realised that this had its advantages. For a start, she knew that at first Rita had felt excluded; five is an awkward number and because she and Woody had met for the first time on market day, as had Debby and Josh, it was only natural that when they paired up it would be Rita who would be left out. This was a new experience for the other girl, and not a pleasant one. But when Debby and Josh made no secret of the fact that they hated heights and had no intention of climbing the tree, Rita came into her own. She scrambled up like a monkey, swinging from branch to branch and causing even the fearless Woody to tell her sharply to stop showing off, and be a bit more careful. ‘You’re so keen to prove you’re tougher than the rest of us that you don’t think of anyone else,’ he had said severely. ‘It didn’t occur to you that I was coming up a couple of branches beneath you and you were kicking bits of bark and leaves into my face. If I hadn’t been such an experienced climber I might have let go of the branch to brush away the muck, and fallen to my death.’

Imogen had expected Rita to give a sharp retort, but it seemed that Debby was not the only one who was beginning to change, for when Rita did speak it was quite humbly. ‘I’m sorry, Woody,’ she said. ‘You’re quite right. I’ll be more careful next time.’

‘Good; see you don’t forget it,’ Woody had said sternly. ‘Remember what your auntie said? We’re older than you, me and Josh, so we’re the ones in charge.’

Imogen, watching, had seen a flash of rebellion in Rita’s eyes and had waited once more to see her friend try to take Woody down a peg or two. But to her relief, this did not happen. In fact the five of them very soon took it for granted that whatever they did, they would do together.

Having ascertained that there was no need for her to get up yet, Imogen lay down again, but the sun was now directly on her face so she slid out of the sheets – she had kicked the blankets off long ago – and went over to the window. She began to draw the curtain properly across, then hesitated; wouldn’t it be rather a waste to spend the lovely morning lying in bed? If she got up right away she could go down to the kitchen, light the Primus under the kettle and make a pot of tea. She could take a cup to Auntie and another to Jill, and then she could start the preparations for breakfast.

To think was to act. Imogen went over to the washstand and began to pour water from the ewer into the round basin with its pattern of poppies. Having washed, she put on the faded shirt and shorts which Jill always referred to as their working clothes, though really, Imogen thought, buttoning the shirt, it would have been more accurate, perhaps, to call them everyday clothes; now that the summer holidays had arrived they were what she and the others wore every day except Sunday, or when they were taken into town to help carry Auntie’s shopping.

Imogen tiptoed across the wooden boards, avoiding the one that creaked, and was opening the door with all possible stealth when a sleepy voice addressed her. ‘Whazzup?’ Rita’s voice demanded. ‘Izzit time to gerrup?’

Conscious of a decided feeling of disappointment, Imogen realised that she had been looking forward to surprising Auntie and Jill on her own, both by taking them a cup of tea and by starting the breakfast, thus easing the day’s work for the two of them. But as she paused, a hand on the doorknob, she looked back and realised that Rita had spoken more or less in her sleep, so instead of answering she went quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Downstairs, she lit the Primus, made the tea and carried two cups up the stairs. She had to stand them down to knock on Auntie’s door, then pushed it open and beamed as Auntie sat up with every evidence of surprise and pleasure and took one of the cups. ‘How lovely,’ Auntie said, sipping. ‘And you’ve brought one for Jill as well. Goodness, you are getting off to an early start this morning! Have you anything in particular planned?’ She glanced towards the bedroom window. ‘It’s going to be another lovely day by the look of it. Well, after the winter we suffered I should think we jolly well deserve a good summer.’ She glanced at the old-fashioned brass alarm clock on her chest of drawers. ‘I’ll just drink this, then I’ll get up and come downstairs,’ she said. ‘I know the fine weather’s lovely for us but it’s just what Herr Hitler wants if he’s to knock out the Royal Air Force and send his troops over the Channel. They’re calling it “the Battle of Britain”. . . but I missed the news last night so must catch it this morning. And I hope it won’t interfere with your plans, Immy dear, but the accumulator needs recharging, so if you and the others don’t mind you might take it down to the blacksmith’s – the garage, I mean – and get it done. I take it you’re meeting your pals? Are they calling for you, or are you calling for them?’

‘I don’t know that it matters,’ Imogen said. ‘If we’re early, we’ll walk up towards Pilgrim’s and meet them. But either way, we’ll take the accumulator down to Mr Tidnam’s and pick it up on our way home.’

Auntie nodded. ‘Right, but make certain you’ve got it home in time for the news,’ she said. ‘Going anywhere in particular?’

Behind her back and feeling thoroughly guilty, Imogen crossed the fingers of the hand not holding Jill’s cup of tea. ‘I s’pose we might go to the Pilgrims’ tree house if we have time, but we won’t know until we meet the boys,’ she said untruthfully, and salved her conscience by the recollection of Rita’s suggestion that they might never actually reach the Broad. ‘Is there anything else you want from the village? Apart from having the accumulator recharged, I mean?’

‘Torch batteries, if they’ve got any,’ Auntie said. She smiled at Imogen. ‘Hope springs eternal, they say. Oh, and if you see any toothpaste . . .’

Imogen laughed. ‘You’d better make a list,’ she said, thinking that the expedition to the Broad was fast disappearing. ‘And now I’d best take this cup of tea to Jill before it goes cold.’

By the time the girls set off they were already uneasily aware that their day out was unlikely to include a trip to the Broad. The boys, too, had been held up and explained with much detail what had happened.

‘That darned young bull that Mr Pilgrim is so proud of got out of the bull pen,’ Woody said. ‘Someone made a mistake somewhere, we aren’t sure who, but when old Herbert opened the bull pen the Minotaur – that’s what they call him – instead of charging into the enclosure where the cow was, ignored that gate and broke through the one which leads to Parson’s Piece. There was lots of shouting and hullabaloo, but he took not a blind bit of notice. He went charging straight across the meadow and crashed through the gate on the opposite side. Apparently, old Herbert says there was a heifer down at the river . . . well, anyway, the Minotaur stopped when he reached his lady love and after they’d said hello he was quite easy to catch and bring back to where he belonged. But it’s made us late, so I’m afraid we probably shan’t reach the Broad until mid-afternoon. Want to change our plans? We can just muck about down by the river, or walk as far as we can in the time, because we’ve got to get back as usual for five thirty tea.’ He fell into step with the girls and Josh followed suit. ‘Come on, shall we save the Broad for another day? And by the way, what made you three late?’

‘Oh, Auntie wanted some messages run,’ Imogen said. ‘Stuff she couldn’t wait for, and Jill was busy dealing with the delivery from the brewery so it was up to us to go down and get our rations and so on.’ She looked enquiringly up at Woody. ‘I s’pose what you’re saying is that we might as well muck around here and perhaps go to the Broad another time.’

The five of them had met just about halfway between the farm and the pub, and now stood in a small group, discussing what best to do. ‘We’ve left the accumulator in the village,’ Imogen went on. ‘That means we’ve simply got to get back to Mr Tidnam before he closes. Auntie was fed up last night because the newscaster’s voice was too faint for her to hear, though she turned the volume up as high as it would go.’

Woody’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Don’t you have two?’ he asked. ‘I thought everyone had two so whilst one was being recharged you could still get the news with the second one.’

‘That’s right; we’ve got two as well,’ Imogen assured him. ‘But Auntie forgot to pick the recharged one up. That’s why we’ve got to be back in good time, otherwise she won’t know what’s going on, and you know how old people fuss about the news.’

‘I see,’ Woody said rather gloomily. ‘Still, I suppose we can go to the Broad another day when we can get away soon after brekker.’

‘We could go to the lookout,’ Rita said brightly. ‘The river will seem tame after we’ve talked about nothing but the Broad for ages.’

Debby began to speak, but was immediately interrupted by Josh. ‘Trust you to think of your own fun and nobody else’s, Rita Jeffries,’ he said scornfully. ‘You know very well Debby and I don’t like heights.’

‘We’re not even thinking about going to the lookout today – well, nobody but Rita is,’ Woody said quickly. ‘Shall we go down to the river? I know it isn’t deep enough to swim in, but mucking about in the water will be cooler than just tramping to nowhere in particular.’

‘If we don’t set out somewhere soon we might as well not go anywhere,’ Debby remarked. ‘Come on, fellow adventurers, let’s hear some sensible suggestions.’

Imogen smiled at the younger girl. ‘Good for you, Debs,’ she said approvingly, and turned to the others. ‘Come along, ladies and gentlemen; suggestions for today’s expedition, if you please?’

‘Tell you what,’ Woody said after some thought, ‘why don’t we go along to the airfield? Me and Josh went to the end of the main runway a couple of weeks ago – we were taking a message to an old bloke who used to work for the Pilgrims – and we stayed for ages, watching the planes take off and come back. It’s nowhere near as far as the Broad and it was dead interesting . . . it’s only a small airfield by most standards, and there are no heavy bombers or anything like that, it’s just Spitfires and Hurricanes, but you’d be surprised at the row they make on take-off, and there’s a spot where you can lie in long grass and see everything.’

‘Shall we have a vote on it?’ Imogen suggested. ‘Hands up who wants to go and watch the planes take off?’

Four hands shot skywards, including Imogen’s own; it was only Rita who did not seem interested.

‘Right, that’s settled by a majority of four to one,’ Woody said briskly. ‘Let’s set out at once, then we can have our dinner in the wood. Josh and me know where there’s a stream where we can eat our sandwiches sitting on the bank with our feet in the water.’

The small group followed this plan to the letter, though it was tempting to stay beneath the shade of the trees; Woody actually suggested they might have a little snooze before going further, but this was shouted down by the rest of the company. ‘Come on, Grandpa Woody; if we stop for a snooze we shan’t see any planes at all,’ Josh said. ‘And from here on we’ve got to keep our heads down because we’re getting near the perimeter fence. There are guards patrolling it, of course, but the grassy hollow Woody and I picked last time was pretty good. We reckoned we could see everything without being seen . . . but you’ll see for yourselves in a minute.’

And presently they found the dip in the ground and tumbled into it just in time to avoid being spotted by two guards, rifles slung on their shoulders, solemnly marching along the perimeter track on the inner side of the fence. Once they’d gone by Woody began to tell the others what they would see. ‘I told Laurie, last time he came up to the farm to see if we had any eggs to spare, that I wanted to join the RAF as soon as I was old enough, and learn to pilot a Spitfire,’ he said. ‘Only when Laurie told me how wizard the Hurricanes are I changed my mind. It seems they’re not as fast as the Spits, but they’re a good deal sturdier. And he says that Flotsham has been lucky so far and not been raided because of its position. Lots of trees with the huts built under the cover of the foliage, and grass runways, camouflaged so that they don’t stand out. I can tell you, seen from the air, it only looks like an airfield when the planes are getting ready for take-off. Once they’re gone . . . well, it could be anywhere.’