Tin Hats and Gas Masks (7 page)

They both helped to wash and wipe up, then they set off for the West End. They had seats booked for
Applesauce
at
the Palladium. ‘Second house,’ Mrs Bookman told them, ‘because I wasn’t sure if we’d make the first at half past two. But this starts at twenty past six so it’ll give us time for a meal first. I know a nice little place where we can eat. It’s small but the food’s good. Unless you want to go to Lyons Corner House. They have a band there.’

The subject of where to eat lasted almost until they were in Oxford Street, the smaller place eventually winning when Mrs Bookman told them about the chocolate éclairs with real cream.

‘I’ve only been there once meself, but it was good,’ she said, ‘and it’s handy for the theatre. Don’t want too far to go, do we?’

They had a wonderful afternoon. ‘It’s smashing to be in London again,’ Johnny said, ‘though to be fair the country’s not bad. More to do than I’d thought there’d be. Which do you like best, Annie, forgetting about being away from home I mean. Just supposing you could have a choice like, after the war?’

‘The country, Johnny. It’s quieter, not so smoky, and you can keep animals.’

‘You like animals, Annie? What, sheep and things? Because you can keep cats and dogs in town, can’t you?’ Johnny’s mum smiled across at her.

‘Yes, but with me it’s horses mostly, Mrs Bookman.’

‘Call me Mum, or Mrs B or something,’ she said. ‘Mrs Bookman’s such a mouthful. Horses, eh – I like horses too. Have you got one at your home?’

‘No. But I can ride. I used to have lessons, and there’s a girl at school sometimes lets me ride her pony.’

‘I wouldn’t have minded doing that. Oh, I can’t ride, but I’d have loved to try. Still, it’s a different world in the country and maybe I wouldn’t enjoy it for long. You go where the Lord puts you, don’t you?’

Johnny thought his heart would burst. He wasn’t sure whether with excitement or happiness, just to be back walking the streets of home. To make a perfect day it needed his dad and brothers there too, but Jim and Ron were both overseas now, and, like his mum often said, ‘You can’t have everything.’ He would see his dad tonight anyway, and tomorrow morning, because he didn’t work on Sundays. Anyway, if they were all there he’d probably be in trouble for something or another, he thought, he usually was.

‘How’s Doris, Mum?’ he said, and, turning to Annie, ‘That’s me sister-in-law.’

‘I know. You never stop telling me.’

‘She’s OK, Johnny. Working in the factory with me in the week, and usually goes to her mum’s at weekends. And I heard from Ron
and
Jim the other day. Not much, but they’re both all right. Thank God you’re not old enough yet to go in the forces.’

She turned towards Annie. ‘Jim and Ron, our other sons, are both overseas now,’ she said to her.

They gave themselves plenty of time before the theatre for their tea.

‘Oh, it’s lovely, isn’t it?’ Annie said when they were inside the little restaurant with its red-plush wallpaper and white tablecloths. The waiter was elderly with a thatch of white hair and a charming manner. Both children studied
the menu for so long that Mrs Bookman suggested she should order for them.

‘No mum – I know what I want but it’s nice to see what else you could have. If you weren’t having what you are having, I mean.’

Mrs Bookman and Annie went into a fit of giggles at this piece of logic and it was a very jolly party who eventually tucked into steak-and-kidney pie, potatoes and vegetables.

‘Leave enough room for your éclair Johnny.’ Annie laughed as he wiped the last piece of pie on his fork round the plate.

The éclairs, when they arrived, looked every bit as scrumptious as Mrs Bookman’s description of them. Johnny looked at the silver cake-fork by his plate, then watched to see what Annie would do.

‘Mmm, this looks gorgeous,’ she said. She picked up the fork and cut into the éclair’s creamy centre just as the air raid warning sounded. Johnny and Annie looked at each other then turned to Mrs Bookman who was already pushing back her chair. The waiter clapped his hands for attention.

‘We have a deep cellar,’ he said loudly, ‘anyone who wishes to use it please follow me.’

Some customers stayed at their tables but Mrs Bookman ushered the children to join others who were following the waiter through to the back of the premises. Not sure whether to take the cake with him Johnny saw no one else had done so, and with a mouth-watering glance at the gleaming richness of the chocolate éclair on his plate, he
tagged along behind Annie.

They reached the kitchen doorway just as an almighty noise rumbled around and the ceiling caved in on them.

‘Johnny, Johnny where are you?’

‘Annie, I’m here but I can’t see you. Where’s me mum?’

Both children called for her, but the only sound was of someone moaning.

‘Mum, are you OK?’ Johnny began crawling towards the sound.

A man’s voice answered. ‘It’s my leg – I can’t move my leg.’

‘Wait,’ Johnny said. ‘Someone’ll be here in a minute. It must ‘ave bin a bleedin’ bomb. Annie, Mum, answer me for God’s sake.’

His eyes were gradually becoming accustomed to the gloom and when he crawled on to something soft Annie’s voice, very close, said, ‘Johnny, is that you? Can you lift this thing off me, it’s squashing my arm.’

He fumbled around, trying to feel the shape of whatever
was pinioning her. ‘Are you hurt Annie?’

‘I – I don’t think so. Are you? And – and what about your mum?’

A beam of light suddenly flashed on to the children and a deep voice said, ‘Over here, Bert.’ Then softly, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll have you out into daylight in a jiffy.’ The light from the torch swung round on to Johnny, on his hands and knees in the rubble that had been the restaurant.

‘You all right, son?’

‘Yes, but I can’t find me mum.’

‘Stay still while we get the little girl out, then we’ll look.’

Another warden joined him, and together they lifted the beam that had trapped her. Five minutes later both children were in an ambulance
en route
for the hospital, Johnny protesting that he couldn’t go without his mother.

‘Tell me your name, son, and we’ll see you meet up, but we’ve got to get this ambulance away now. And don’t worry, we’ll tell her you’re both all right and where they’ve taken you.’

The ambulance doors closed and Johnny and Annie, together with half a dozen others, all of them covered in dust and plaster, were on their way.

At the hospital they set Annie’s broken arm, checked the cuts and grazes on them both, then told them to wait. A WVS lady came along within minutes and gave them a drink of cocoa each.

Johnny turned to Annie. ‘How d’you feel, Annie?’

‘I’m – I’m not sure, Johnny. All right, I think. It doesn’t hurt now.’ She glanced down at her arm, encased from the wrist to just above the elbow in plaster.

‘D’you feel like coming with me to look for Mum? I’m bloody worried about her.’

‘D’you suppose …’ her eyes were dark with fright.

‘I don’t know, do I? And now they’ve fixed you up they aren’t going to bother – there’s people in worse states than us. But I’ve got to find her.’

Annie was hesitant. ‘We ought to stay and let them find her, Johnny. It will disrupt things otherwise.’

‘You stay, then, I’m going to look for her.’

‘Johnny, wait for me, I’m coming with you.’

In the waiting-room of the hospital where the staff had left the walking casualties of the bomb, several people watched the children go. Most of them looked dazed, and if they thought they ought to stop them none was yet thinking well enough to do so. The WVS ladies had moved on and Johnny and Annie walked quietly out.

Johnny’s main thought was to get away from the hospital and back to the restaurant, where he was sure his mother was still somewhere in the building. Perhaps the wardens had dug her out by now, if so she would be going frantic looking for them, and if they hadn’t, then he must return to find her. Beyond that his mind refused to think.

‘I wonder where we are?’ he said to Annie. ‘I don’t suppose they brought us far, do you?’

‘The – the restaurant was – was just off Oxford Street, Johnny. Maybe we should ask someone.’

It was dark now and Johnny stopped the first person he heard and dimly saw coming along.

‘Oxford Street. Turn right at the next corner and keep
straight on. It’s a long road though. Which part do you want?’

‘Near the Palladium.’

‘I should catch a bus, son. Any one along here will take you. Does your mother know you’re out?’

‘Oh yes,’ Johnny answered quickly. ‘We’re going to meet her now.’

They had been walking for about five minutes when Annie said, ‘Johnny, I feel bad. I think I’m going to faint.’

‘Oh Gawd. Annie, you mustn’t. Look we’re nearly there. Hang on to me.’

‘Let me stand still for a minute. I’m so cold.’

Johnny was frightened. Suppose Annie died on him. Whatever was he going to do. Well, for one thing he was going to find his mother. Perhaps he should have left Annie at the hospital. Maybe she was injured worse than he knew.

‘Annie. D’you feel better, gal?’

‘Yes. I’m all right now, but don’t walk so quickly, Johnny. I expect it’s the shock. I’ve never fainted, but I came over so queer then, I thought perhaps that was what was happening to me.’

‘Hullo then, and where are you two off to?’

The large policeman who loomed out of the darkness and shone his muffled torch in their startled faces reached out a friendly arm. Johnny, who now felt that every adult was out to stop him reaching his mother, took Annie’s good hand and, pulling her with him, ran down the first turning he came to.

He turned off from this and, still half dragging, half
supporting Annie off from the next one too. A few minutes and a few turnings later Johnny pulled Annie into a shop doorway. ‘I think we’ve lost him’, he said. ‘Are you OK, Annie?’

‘Yes, Johnny. But why did you run from the policeman. He could probably have taken us to your mum. Now we might never find her.’ To his great consternation Annie, calm matter-of-fact, cope-with-anything Annie, burst into tears.

‘Annie, please don’t cry. Please. Please.’ He had his arm round her and she was still shivering. ‘Look, we’ll find somewhere you can sit and rest – a café or something, and I’ll go and look for Mum.’

‘Oh Johnny, do you suppose I b-brought that air-raid on by what I said this morning?’

‘W-what d’you mean? What did you say?’

Annie swallowed her sob. ‘You know, when I said, I’d like to experience one.’

‘Of course not,’ he said softly into her ear. ‘You don’t ’alf talk some bloody nonsense sometimes, Annie.’

‘Johnny, don’t leave me here. I don’t suppose there’s a café open anyway. I’d rather come with you. I’m all right now, honest.’

He could feel her still trembling beneath his hold. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘but we’ve got to get out of this area soon or that copper will find us and we’ll be back with them all trying to hush us up. See – if me mum’s …’ he swallowed hard, took a huge breath and said quickly, ‘if she’s dead then I want to know. Come on.’

Silently and cautiously the children left the doorway
and started walking again. This time, although they passed a few people, they did not ask the way. After they had been going for some twenty minutes Annie said, ‘Have you any idea where we are, Johnny?’

‘No. But we can’t …’ The wail of the siren interrupted him and they both stopped immediately.

‘Must be another raid,’ Annie said, ‘I never heard the All Clear for the last one. And Johnny, I’m all right. Look I’m not shaking any more. Stupid to be so silly.’

He couldn’t actually see her face but he looked in that direction. ‘’Course you are,’ he said, ‘I knew you would be. You’re a great girl Annie. You’re my girl, aren’t you?’

She didn’t answer for a moment and he said, ‘Come on, we’d better keep going.’

She looked skywards. ‘There’s no sign of any activity Johnny.’ As she spoke searchlights swept across the heavens and they felt for each other’s hands.

‘They have street shelters up here,’ Johnny said, his voice a little catchy, ‘me mum told me. We’ll dive into one of those if we see a Jerry. ’Til the all clear goes, like.’ His voice grew stronger, ‘Don’t suppose anyone’d take any notice of us there because all sorts who were caught out would go.’

They were now in a street with many small shops, and when, suddenly they heard the planes overhead they held on to each other’s hands and sheltered in one of the doorways. As Johnny held Annie tightly to him she whispered, ‘What you said Johnny, about me being your girl. Well, just in case they get us this time I want you to know that I am. I want to be your girl.’

Overhead the sound of aircraft continued, and the children huddled together in the shop doorway, waiting for the bombs to fall. When nothing happened and the sound of the engines had died away they were amazed.

‘I thought that was our lot, Annie.’

‘Me too. But they’ve gone over.’

‘W-what do we do now? How’s your arm?’

‘Not too bad. It doesn’t really hurt now. I suppose the plaster is supporting it.’

‘Annie.’

‘Yes.’

‘D’you suppose Mum’s dead?’

‘I hope not. Oh, I hope not.’

‘She wasn’t in that lot they brought to the hospital. We were there quite a long time and I watched everyone who came in while you were having your injuries seen to.’

‘They might have taken her to another hospital, Johnny.’

‘No,’ he said, ‘she’d have come in to where we were – and she didn’t.’

‘Look, Johnny, we’d best find someone to help us, or else go back to your house. I’ve got some money – oh, my bag, Johnny, it’s gone! I’ve lost my handbag and it’s got my money and our return tickets in it.’

He put his hand in his trouser-pocket and jingled some coins. ‘I’ve got some, Annie. Don’t worry. But I don’t know what time it is or – or anything.’

He was very close to tears too now, fighting hard to keep them back. ‘Let’s wait here ‘til the All Clear goes,’ he said, ‘then we’ll try and find a bus-stop. If we get back on that main road where we were before it’ll be easy as pie.’

They sat down on the tiles in the shop doorway, and Johnny put his arm round Annie. ‘All right?’ he asked her.

‘Yes. Are you?’

‘I am now. You try to sleep for a while and I’ll keep watch.’

Five minutes afterwards they were both asleep.

The policeman found them there an hour later. It wasn’t the one who had chased them, but he was nevertheless looking for two children who had walked out of the hospital when they were left unattended. Gently he tapped Johnny on the shoulder. ‘Come along, laddie, I’ll take you home. What’s your name?’

He was a large policeman, tall, fat, authoritarian, and he was straddled across the doorway, blocking the children’s way out. Johnny was tired in spite of his snooze and this time he gave in easily.

‘Johnny Bookman, and this is Annie Evesham.’

‘I thought it might be. Well, come along and we’ll find you something to eat and drink at the station while we’re waiting for your mother.’

Annie was struggling to her feet by this time, and Johnny said, ‘She was with us in the restaurant when the bomb fell.’

‘So I gather. And she’s been looking for you two ever since.’ He held on to Annie’s good arm on one side, and one of Johnny’s on the other.

‘You – you mean, she’s alive?’

‘Yes, son. And worried sick about the pair of you, I gather. She expected to find you in the hospital, see. Aright old turn-out this is.’

He took them to a police station a few minutes’ walk away and telephoned from there to the hospital to say they were safe.

It was late by the time Mrs Bookman collected them. They were drinking cocoa and exchanging riddles with the desk-sergeant when she came in. She threw her arms round Johnny and hugged him so tightly it actually hurt, then quickly she turned to Annie and engulfed her too. ‘You bloody fools,’ she said through her tears, ‘you should have waited at the hospital.’