The man who'd taken my chocolate looked over at him, but didn't say anything.
"They're just kids, Mike," the man on the ground said. "Let them go."
The man with my chocolate stepped aside, and waved me through. We walked towards the other men who were standing behind him. They were staring at us. I wanted to run, to get past them as quickly as possible, but I knew that Ben wouldn't like that so I kept walking instead. Ben went a little bit ahead of me, so he was between them and me. I think he was protecting me again. When we were living at home, we were always fighting, and he was always being nasty to me, and I wasn't sure that he liked me very much. But since Mum and Dad had gone, he was looking after me all the time, and I really didn't know what I would have done without him.
I took a look over my shoulder, and the man with my chocolate was walking close behind me. He could have reached out and touched my shoulder if he wanted. I walked a bit faster so I was right behind Ben.
We reached the men ahead of us. I looked over towards the man on the ground, but he had his head down. I'd noticed that when people have their head down it usually means that something bad is happening, and I was worried that this meant that the men were going to attack us. I held Ben's hand, to help me keep going.
The men were in our way. Ben went round them, and I went, too. They didn't do anything to stop us. As we went up the road, I could feel them watching us, but I didn't dare turn round to look at them, in case they were following us.
All of a sudden, there was the sound of shooting. Really, really loud.
I tried to start running, but Ben had my hand and he wouldn't let it go. I looked at him, trying to work out why he wouldn't let me run when they were trying to kill us. He pointed up at the sky. There was a plane up there, heading towards Ramsgate. And there were two other planes following it, shooting at it, trying to blow it out of the sky.
I took a look over my shoulder at the men. None of them had followed us. They were all just standing there, watching the planes up above, without saying a word.
"Which one's ours?" I asked Ben.
He didn't answer me. He just kept walking.
So I walked, too.
#
Ramsgate. Ramsgate at last. I wished we had never left. If we'd stayed where we were, maybe we would have caught a boat sooner, maybe we would have got to France, and maybe Mum and Dad wouldn't be dead now. But I guess you never know. Maybe a bomb would have dropped on us anyway, and we would all have died together. That might not have been such a bad thing, though, all going at the same time.
There wasn't much left of the harbour as we went through. It had been so badly bombed that there was hardly anything left standing. I could tell that, even in the dark, with only a little moonlight to see by (there were no street-lights of course). Every so often, there were clouds across the moon, and we had to stop walking so we could make sure that we didn't step into one of the big holes in the ground the bombs had made there.
We heard people talking and calling out to each other on the far side of the harbour, but we couldn't see them and we didn't want to go and look for them in case they were dangerous, so we kept on walking. We saw a few people around, sitting down on the pavement, and we crossed the road to keep as far away from them as we could, even though some of them had children and I thought that maybe they were safe. None of them bothered us, anyway.
Some of the streets in the town were hardly touched, and others weren't really there at all anymore, which was quite strange. I wondered how the Russians decided which streets to bomb and which to leave. I worried again that we would get home and find our house was gone, and all this walking would have been for nothing.
And then we were in our street. I walked over the rubble at the end of the road, and I remembered Mum trying to climb over it and falling over when we were going to Tesco's and I missed her all over again. There were more houses knocked down at this end of the road than I thought there had been, but I wasn't sure whether there had been more bombs here or whether I had just forgotten how bad it was.
Ben started walking faster as we got near our house. I knew he was wondering whether or not it was still there. I wanted to walk slower, for the same reason, like Mum had done before we'd got to Nan's. Sometimes it's better not knowing if something bad has happened
And then we saw it, the shape of our house in the dark. It looked okay as far as I could see.
We were home.
It's hard to tell you how happy I felt when I saw that our house hadn't been bombed. Losing our home would have felt like losing someone you love. It was the place I felt safest, out of everywhere in the world. And I know this sounds funny, but it felt like when we got inside, we would find Mum and Dad there, waiting for us, and everything would be alright again.
I now started worrying again that we wouldn't be able to get in. We hadn't got the key, and we weren't strong enough to break the door down. In films, they can open doors using credit cards, like I said earlier, but I didn't know how to do that and we didn't have any credit cards anyway because we were too young for the bank to give us any.
As it turned out, though, it was easy to get in as the porch door had been kicked in and the lock on the front door was broken. Someone had come into our house after we'd left it. I guessed it was the two men with the bag who had tried to break the door down when Mum and Dad had still been here.
I wanted to go in. We had spent so long walking here, that I couldn't bear to wait outside now we were here, but Ben wanted me to wait outside for a while in case there were bad people inside.
"I'll go in," he told me, "and check it's okay. You wait here."
"Why you?"
"I can run faster than you if I see anyone. You wait here, so you'll have a headstart if we need to get away quickly."
"I don't want to wait here on my own."
"Shush! They'll hear you."
"Who'll hear me?"
"Whoever's inside."
"There might not be anyone in there."
"There might be, though."
"Might not be."
Ben sighed. "Just wait there. Please. I'm asking nicely. I don't want to argue. I'll be two minutes, I promise."
"Truthfully?"
"Truthfully."
He went inside the house. I wanted to go too, but I knew he would be cross. Besides, it was very dark in there. He had to put his hand on the wall as he went in, so he could feel where everything was and not bump into things. If there was anyone in there, he might not know until it was too late. Part of me thought that was a good reason to go in with him, and part of me thought that was a good reason to stay outside like he'd asked me to. I felt guilty that I wasn't braver. If I was brave, I would have gone with him, whatever he'd said. If I was really brave, I would have told him to stay outside while I went in. I hated being eight. If I was a grown-up, I don't think I would have been so scared all the time.
He was gone for a long time, or at least it seemed like a long time. Much more than two minutes, anyway, even though he said "Truthfully". I kept expecting him to come running out of the house at any moment, with bad men chasing him. But nothing happened. He was still in there somewhere, and I didn't know what to do.
After what seemed like ages, he was still not back, and I decided to go in after him. He'd asked me to wait outside, but he'd broken a "Truthfully" so I decided it was okay to ignore him. Like I said, I was really scared, but it was worse being scared out there on my own, worrying about him, than being scared inside. So I stepped through the door and went to find out whether anyone else was in there with him.
#
I can't tell you just how dark it was in the house, what with there being no light at all. I put my hand on the wall, as Ben had done, to help me work out where everything was.
"Ben?" I called out, but really quietly. I wanted him to hear me, but I didn't want anyone else hearing. I thought that maybe he had seen people inside, and he was trying to creep out of the house a step at a time, and if
I started shouting his name they would know we were there and catch us both.
There was no answer. I didn't want to call his name any louder, just in case.
He had headed for the stairs. I went there, too. I held on to the bannister, which made it easier to walk up them. You don't really need light when you're holding a bannister as you can guess where the steps are. I tried to walk really quietly, just in case.
I got to our bedroom. I still couldn't see anything. "Ben?" I whispered. No reply. I put my hand on my bed. I wanted to run my hand over the mattress to see if there was anyone on it, but if I had felt anyone's legs it would have scared the Hell out of me so I took my hand off it again. "Ben?"
He couldn't have been in there. He would have heard me. I left the room. Either he was in Mum and Dad's room, or he was using the toilet, or he had come back downstairs without me seeing him and he was looking for me outside while I was up here trying to find him.
I decided to go up to my parents' room.
I felt my way outside my bedroom. I got to the bottom of the stairs leading up to Mum and Dad's room.
And then I heard a scream. A really loud, frightened scream.
It wasn't Ben.
There was someone else in the house.
#
I ran away. I ran as fast as the dark would let me.
I nearly fell down the stairs, but I managed to catch hold of the bannister and keep going.
And then I was out the door, and at the top of the path, and ready to race off down the street.
And then I remembered that Ben was still inside.
I stopped by the gate.
I didn't know what to do.
Ben was still in there. Someone else was there, too. Maybe more than one person for all I knew. And if they were screaming, they must have known he was there.
Then again, if they were screaming, then maybe they were more afraid of him than he was of them. It was dark in there. They probably had heard him without seeing him. They probably didn't know he was just a boy.
What use could I be to him, though? I was only eight. I'm rubbish at fighting. I once nearly got beaten up by a girl at school, for calling her "Specs" (she's got glasses). If I went back inside, I was more likely to get in the way than anything else.
But I knew that I had to go back all the same. Ben was all I had left. If it was me in there, he would have gone back to save me, so I had to do the same for him. I didn't want to; I was really scared. It was worse not knowing who was in there, how many of them there might be, whether they wanted to hurt us or not.
I thought of the men on the road coming into Ramsgate, the ones who had made us turn out their pockets. Maybe they had followed us back, taken a short-cut, got here before us so they could take us by surprise like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. Or maybe even the man who had had a fight with Dad when he was still normal. Or the men who'd kicked our door. Or someone even more scary we hadn't met yet.
I went back to the door. "Ben?" I called out. I still called it quietly, because even though they knew that Ben was inside, they might not know that I was there, too. It was best to keep quiet, to try to stop getting caught, so that I could catch them by surprise and save him if I could.
"Ben?"
No reply.
I started going back up the stairs again, back to our old bedroom. It was worse this time, because this time I knew there was someone up there. I thought I could hear whispering up at the top of the house, but I wasn't sure. Dad said that old houses make funny noises when it's quiet, but it sounded like real whispering to me.
I made it to the door outside my bedroom. I stopped again. I listened. I couldn't hear anything anymore.
I went to the foot of the stairs going up to Mum and Dad's bedroom. "Ben?" I whispered, quieter than ever.
Someone tried to grab hold of me, someone standing near the bottom of the stairs. I screamed, almost as loudly as the person had been screaming before. I tried to run. I wanted to save Ben, but there was someone trying to grab hold of me in the dark, and no-one can stand still when that's happening to them, however brave they are.
"Jack? Jack, it's alright. It's me."
"Ben?"
"Who else would it be?"
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to punch him in the arm for scaring me like that, but I couldn't see him and I didn't want to accidentally punch him anywhere else in case he punched me back harder.
"You scared me!"
"You scared me, too, with all that screaming."
"I wasn't screaming. I was shouting."
"It sounded like screaming to me."
"Whatever. Who was that? I heard someone screaming upstairs."
"Shouting, you mean?"
"Shut up. It's not funny. Who was it? Are they dangerous?"
"Come and find out."
He sounded happy, for the first time in a long time.
"Who is it?"
"Come and see."
He started pulling me up the stairs. Just for a second, it was like old times, when we didn't get on very well. Maybe it was because we were back at home again. It crossed my mind that whoever was up there might have promised to let him go if he caught me for them. But deep down, I knew that was rubbish. He had saved me lots of times since Mum and Dad had gone, what with looking after me when I was ill, and keeping Valerie's friend away from me, and the man in Wingham who wanted to give us food (I'm still not quite sure why that last time was saving me, but I kind of knew that it was). So I decided to trust him, and I followed him up the stairs.
It was just as dark up there as it was outside my bedroom. I couldn't see anything at all.
"Is anyone there?" I asked. I knew there was, but I couldn't think what else to say.
"Jack?" said a lady's voice. "Is that you, Darling?"
Just for a second, I thought it was Mum, and I didn't know whether to laugh or scream again. It sounded like Mum. But it couldn't have been, because I had seen her die.
And then I knew. I knew who it was. And she must have been able to see better than me in the dark, as she was holding me in her arms and cuddling me as hard as she could.
"Hello, Nan," I said.
#
It was her. It was really her. It was our Nan. And she was safe.
She hugged me for what seemed like ages.
"I've been waiting for you lot to turn up for days! What kept you?"
"There were planes. And bombs. And we made friends with Valerie."
"Valerie? She sounds nice."
"No, Valerie was a Russian soldier."
"You made friends with a Russian soldier!"
"He gave us chocolate."
"I wish I'd have been there, then! Where's your Mum?"
Neither of us answered. She didn't know Mum was dead. Mum was her daughter. How could we tell her something like that?
"Jack? Ben? Is your mum downstairs? And your Dad? Is everything okay?"
She sounded worried now, but I still couldn't bear to tell her.
"Ben. Talk to me. Where are they?"
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Don't tell me she's -. No. She can't be. I'd have known. Is she? Ben, what happened? Talk to me. Will someone please talk to me?"
"Dad walked towards an armoured car. It wasn't his fault; he went all quiet, and wouldn't talk to anyone. We should have been watching him. I should have been watching him. Mum went after him, and the soldiers shouted at him, and they shouted at her, and then - and then - then they shot them both."
"They're dead?"
"Yes."
"Both of them? Your Mum as well?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She started crying. She hugged me to her even harder than before. And then she was pushing me away, and I heard her sitting on the bed. I had given up crying, so I wasn't sure what to do to make it better for her.
"My baby," she cried. "My baby's dead."
"And Dad," I
added, though as soon as I'd said it I thought that maybe that hadn't helped all that much.
"He was walking towards an armoured car? Why would he do that?"
"He was acting funny. Like Ben said, it wasn't his fault."
She made a little "hmn", noise, as if she didn't quite believe us. And then she was crying again.
"You poor boys. You've been alone all this time. And you've made it back here, without any help? I can't believe it. How did you manage? How did you eat? You're back here now. That's the main thing. I can look after you now. It's going to be alright. Come on, sit on the bed. Come on. I need another hug. A big one."
We found the bed (we knew roughly where it was, so it didn't take long). We sat with her, while she cried. At first, it was nice, but after a while I got a bit bored as there was nothing to do but sit there. At least my knees were getting a rest.
After what seemed like a very long time, she stopped crying.
"I'm going to get us all out of here," she told us. "I've got money. We're going to France."
"Have you got Euros?" Ben asked. He must have been thinking of what the men had said when we were walking to Ramsgate. They hadn't been interested in pounds; only Euros.
"Clever boy, knowing they have Euros in France. Yes. I've got Euros. And pounds. And even some dollars from when I went on that cruise in Florida with your Grandad. Everyone takes dollars. We're going to be fine, you just see."
It was daylight before Ben and I went to our bedroom to get some sleep. We hadn't been in our beds since we had left for Canterbury, and I kept nodding off when Nan was cuddling me, so she let us go to bed to get some rest.
The stuff in our bedroom was all in the wrong place. I think Nan had been tidying up, but it was tidy already (Dad wouldn't let us leave our room in a mess) so I didn't know why she would bother.
Ben woke me up. I was still tired, and I didn't want to get out of bed. It was very light now, and my watch said that it was lunchtime. I wished that we had some lunch, but I knew that we hadn't. That was another good reason why we should have stayed asleep. You're not so hungry when you're sleeping.
Ben gave me another shake. "Come on. It's time to go."
"Go? Go where?"
"To the beach."
"Are you mad? Why would we go to the beach? It's not even summer."
"Nan says there are still boats leaving. Boats for France. We're going somewhere safe."
The English Refugee: The Day It Happened Here Page 15