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Authors: Lilian Harry

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

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BOOK: Under the Apple Tree
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The others gazed at her and then looked at each other

miserably in the glow of the fire. There didn’t seem to be

anything anyone could say, Judy thought. They all felt

pretty much the same. But you couldn’t give in. You just

couldn’t.

‘Come on, Mum,’ she said gently. ‘We all depend on you,

you know. You’re the one that keeps us all going.’

‘Well, I’m not much use to you now,’ Cissie said bitterly.

‘I’m not much use to no one. I’ve just had enough, that’s all.

We’ve been having raids for months, and there’s been all

those terrible things happening in London and Coventry and

the rest, and now it’s our turn, and they’re just bashing us to pieces, to pieces — and what can we do about it, eh? Tell me

that. Oh, I know we can bomb them too, but what good’s that going to do? It just means a whole lot more people get killed

in their own homes, people like us who never wanted a war in

the first place. How’s it ever going to end?’

‘We can’t just let them ride roughshod over us,’ Judy

said. ‘You know what they’ve done in Poland and all those

other countries. We can’t let that happen here.’

‘So it’s better to be bombed to bits, is it? It’s better to

have everything smashed to pieces around us and have little

babies killed?’ Cissie took the apron from her face and stared

at them. ‘Oh, I know what they say, I know what they tell

us, and I’m just an ordinary person who doesn’t know

anything about these things - but I just can’t see the sense of it all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I know we’re not

supposed to talk like this, but I’ve just had enough of it all

today, that’s all.’

‘You need a cup of tea.’ Judy got up, but her grandmother

put out a hand.

‘There’s no gas, love. The mains got fractured, see, and

they turned it off because of the danger. That’s why we’ve

got the kettle on the fire.’

Judy sank back. ‘No gas and no electricity. It’s the same

all over the city, I suppose. It’s a good thing we’ve got some

coal.’ A thought struck her. ‘Here, what about ,mr coal?

From - from home? Hadn’t we better get that over here?’

‘We’ve done it, love,’ her father said. ‘Been going

backwards and forwards all day with my old barrow. Had to

leave one of us on guard, too. There’s people swarming all

over the place, looking for anything they can pick up. Not

that there was much to find in our place,’ he added ruefully.

Judy stared at him. ‘You mean they were stealing things?’

‘Well, they wasn’t offering to pay for them! There’s

always people out for easy pickings, no matter what’s

happened.’

She nodded. ‘I know. The shops have all got soldiers

standing outside them because of looters, but I never

thought they’d take stuff from people who’d been bombed out. That’s awful.’

‘It’s all awful,’ Polly said, ‘but sitting here telling each

other about it won’t make it any better. Now look, I know

we’d all like something hot but we can’t, and that’s all there

is to it — but we can make a few sandwiches. There’s plenty

of marge and fish paste and some of that blackberry and

apple jam Mum made in the autumn, and you’ll never guess

what else I found in a tin in the cupboard.’

‘What?’ Judy asked obediently, and her aunt gave a little

crow of triumph.

‘Christmas cake, that’s what! Keeping it for Easter, your

Gran was, but I reckon we need it more now. We can all

have a really good slice, and thumb our noses at Hitler while

we eat it!’

Judy laughed and after a moment or two the others joined in.

Their laughter was a little shaky, and sounded dangerously

close to crying, but somehow they all felt better for it, and as Dick stoked up the fire and the kettle boiled and Polly began to cut bread, and the Christmas cake was sliced up and handed

round, the little gathering began to seem almost like a party.

‘I reckon we ought to play a few games,’ Judy said. ‘Or

sing some songs. Cheer ourselves up a bit. Just in case

there’s any Fifth Columnists listening down the chimney.

We don’t want them reporting back to Hitler that we’re

downhearted, do we?’

They ate their sandwiches and cake, then did as she had

suggested. But as their voices rose in a wavering rendition of

‘Roll Out the Barrel’ and ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’,

they were each still thinking of the devastation outside, and

of the people who were homeless tonight, or who had been

killed or injured. They were each thinking of Kathy

Simmons and her baby boy, of the two little girls who had

lost their mother, and of all those others up and down the

country who had had their lives shattered.

Later on, when everyone else had gone to bed - Cissie

 

and Dick upstairs to the front bedroom, Polly to the back

room she would share with Judy, and her grandmother Alice

to the front room downstairs — Judy sat by the dying fire

and tried to write a letter to her fiance, Sean.

It seemed so long since she had seen him, so long since

the night last May when they’d got engaged, only three

weeks after they’d met at a dance on South Parade Pier.

Dick and Cissie hadn’t been at all keen on such a hasty

courtship, but Judy was twenty-two, so they couldn’t very

well say no. And there was no question of a wedding yet,

with Sean going back to sea the very next day.

For most of the past eight months, Sean had been in the

Northern Atlantic, off Norway and Iceland. During that

time, he had sent letters — none for weeks, and then a dozen

all arriving at once. Letters that were now buried beneath a

heap of rubble in Friday night’s blast.

How did you tell your fiance the sort of things that had

happened during the past twenty-four hours? Judy sighed

and sucked the end of her grandmother’s fountain pen, and

started to write.

Dear Sean,

We had a bit of trouble in Pompey last night. There were

a lot of aircraft and we got badly bombed. We ‘re all OK

but Mum and Dad and Polly and I are staying with

Gran up in April Grove. I hope things are OK with you,

as they find me here. I’m too tired to write any more now

and will close for tonight.

From your loving Judy.

It didn’t seem much, but she felt that if she started to tell

him what it had really been like, she would still be there

come morning.

Chapter Three

Polly got up early next morning and found Judy already

downstairs, lighting the fire.

‘I know Gran wouldn’t usually have a fire in the morning,

but there’s no other way of making any tea. I wanted to get

everyone a hot drink before I go off to work.’

‘You’re going to work?’ Polly looked at her niece in

surprise. ‘But it’s Sunday.’

‘Doesn’t matter. We’ve got to get the new offices sorted

out. People will be flooding in wanting help, and we can’t

just tell ‘em to go away and come back on Monday. There’s

all the Emergency Centres to be seen to, and people

evacuated or found new homes - any amount of things to be

done.’ Judy held a sheet of newspaper in front of the fire to

make it blaze up. ‘It’s a good thing you went and got our

coal. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we get the gas and

electricity back.’

‘It’s not just that, either. They were going round telling

people to boil water for ten minutes before drinking it in

case of typhoid.’ Polly put some plates on the table and

began to slice the rest of yesterday’s loaf. ‘Well, at least Jerry gave us a quiet night; we’ll all feel better for a few hours’

sleep. Me and your mother have got to go round the

Emergency Centre again this morning, get new ration books

sorted out and see what money they’ll give us. They were

too busy yesterday, so once we’d registered we just came on

here. And there’s people we ought to let know - your

Auntie May and Uncle Fred, and your mum’s friend Mrs

Walker. One of us ought to go round and see Jean Foster

 

too, let her know where we are. She’s Terry’s girlfriend

after all, almost one of the family.’ She stopped and stared at the loaf in her hand. ‘I wish I could go out and see Sylvie.’

‘Oh, Polly! She must be wondering if you’re all right.

They won’t know what’s been going on, out there in the

country.’ Judy lowered the newspaper just as it was

beginning to scorch in the middle. ‘Why don’t you go on the

train?’

‘I don’t suppose they’re running, do you? Anyway, I

don’t feel I can leave your mum and dad, not with the way

Cis is, and your dad was wheezing all day long yesterday.

There’s such a lot to see to here. I did send a telegram

yesterday, just to say we were all well, but she don’t know

nothing about the house, of course. There’s not much point

in telling her, is there - not straight away. She’s only seven

and I don’t want to frighten her.’

‘She’ll have to know, though, because of addressing her

letters.’ Judy stood up, irresolute. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go

into work, after all …’

‘No, no, you go, you can’t let the office down. We can

manage here, and what Sylvie doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

I’ll try and go out sometime next week if the trains are

running again, and I’ll write her a letter. Now, is that fire

hot enough for the kettle yet?’

The two of them got together a scrappy breakfast of bread

and margarine, just coloured with jam, and by the time the

kettle boiled Alice had emerged from the front room where

she had slept on the sofa and Cissie had come down from

upstairs. ‘I told Dick to stay in bed; he’s had a terrible night, hacking away. That dust and smoke really got into his chest.

How were you on that settee, Mum? I felt proper bad,

turning you out of your own bed.’

‘Don’t be daft, girl, I was snug as a bug in a rug. Stood to

reason you two would have to have the double bed. I might

be able to get a camp bed or put-u-up for later, but the

settee’ll do for now.’ She bustled through to the lean-to scullery. ‘I suppose there’s no gas on yet?’

‘Nothing’s on yet. And we haven’t got all that many

candles left, neither. I don’t know what we’re going to do if

they don’t get things straight soon. There’s going to be

people desperate.’ Polly poured out five cups of tea. ‘There,

are you going to take Dick’s up to him, Cis? There’s not

much sense in him coming down till the room’s warmed up

a bit. And look, I’ll toast a slice of bread, he needs

something hot inside him. Spread some Marmite on it.’

Cissie took her husband’s breakfast up the stairs and the

others sat round the table, drinking their tea. Polly looked at her mother.

‘Cis and me are going down the Centre this morning, see

what’s what. Are you going to stop here with Dick?’

‘I am not!’ The old woman looked at her indignantly, her

bright eyes snapping. ‘Stop here when there’s work to be

done? No, I’ll be helping on the tea-stall, same as yesterday.

There’ll be plenty glad of a cuppa while they’re clearing up.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want you to overdo it.’

‘I’ll be the judge of when I’ve overdone it!’ Alice retorted.

‘Just because you’ve moved in here, our Poll, it doesn’t

mean to say you can start ordering me about. I’d have done

as I pleased if you hadn’t been here and I’ll do as I please

now you are, and don’t you forget it.’

Judy grinned and Polly shook her head. ‘I’m not likely to

forget it, you independent old besom! You’ll be ordering us

all about from your deathbed - that’s if you don’t outlive us

all. All right, you go and pour tea for firemen while me and

Cis go and see about our ration books and try to put

together a few clothes and things. How about you, Judy, do

you want us to try to get you anything?’

Judy shook her head. ‘Miss Marsh said there were going

to be some things out at the new offices - the Lady

Mayoress was going to see to it. After all, if she can’t get us a few things from her own Clothing Store, nobody can!’ She

 

put down her cup and stood up. ‘I’d better be going.

Goodness knows how long it’ll take me to get all the way out

to Southsea. I don’t suppose there’s any buses running.

Better expect me when you see me.’ She shrugged into her

coat and called up the stairs to her mother. “Bye, Mum I’m

off now. ‘Bye, Dad.’

Polly watched her go. ‘I hope she’ll be all right. She was

tossing and turning all night long. It really upset her, seeing our house bombed to bits and then going down and seeing

the Guildhall in flames - not to mention all the other

damage. We’ll have to keep an eye on her, Mum.’

‘She’ll be all right. She’s made of the right stuff-like you

and me. And she knows that the best way to take your mind

off things is to get on with your work. No, it’s Cis that I

worry about, she takes everything so hard. And Dick, too.

He was grey when he got round here yesterday, proper

grey.’

‘Well, with all that smoke and dust about…’

‘It’s not just his chest. It’s what it’s doing to his mind. It’s bringing it all back, you can see that. What he went through

BOOK: Under the Apple Tree
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