The English Refugee: The Day It Happened Here

by Jonathan Pidduck

"Why?"

  "Why do you think? Come on. It's time to go."

  "Sleep first."

  "Sleep later. We've got to go."

  "Can I have a drink first?"

  He nodded. He got a little glass bottle out of his pocket, and unscrewed the lid. I sat up a little, and I took a sip of it. I could see someone nearby looking at the bottle. I knew they wanted it. Ben saw them, too. If there hadn't been other people around, I think they would have taken it from us. It wasn't very nice; it was all fizzy and sour, but I knew that I needed it. So I drunk half the bottle and gave it back to him.

  "You have it all," he said.

  "No." I laid back down again.

  "Go on. I've had one already."

  But I didn't believe him.

  He shook me again. "We have to go now. We'll miss the boat."

  "Sleep first."

  "No."

  He shook me again. He was making me angry, but I was too tired to shout at him.

  "Sleep first," I said again.

  He grabbed me by my arm and pulled me up. "We're going."

  I tried to lie back down again, but he wouldn't let me. I gave in. It was easier that way.

  We started to walk away. I remembered Nan. I couldn't understand how I could have forgotten her. I guess it was because I was so tired, and my brain wasn't really working properly.

  "Nan?"

  "She's not coming."

  "We can't leave her here."

  "She's not coming."

  And then I knew. I looked back at her. She looked as if she was sleeping, but she wasn't. She had died, while I had been snoozing beside her. I feel really guilty about that now, but I didn't then. All I felt was tired.

  We walked. The boat was halfway to Broadstairs, which would have only taken five minutes in the car but there were no cars anymore, none that could drive anywhere anyway. I don't know how long it took us to walk, as I wasn't looking at my watch, but it seemed like ages. I kept telling Ben that I needed a rest, but he said we had a boat to catch and he wouldn't even let me sit down for one minute. I cried without tears, but he didn't pay me any attention. I tried to stop walking, but he pulled me hard to make me walk again.

  He was being horrible. I knew we had to catch the boat, but maybe if he was a bit nicer I would have walked without him having a go at me. Maybe not, though. All I wanted to do was to lie down and sleep forever.

  We got to the beach in the end. It's in the middle of nowhere. I don't know why he thought to look there for a boat. I guess he'd run out of other places to look.

  We walked down this hill, with a toilet halfway down. There was an ice-cream shop at the bottom, on a promenade (that's like a road without cars, where you can walk along and see the sea). I wished so much that that shop wasn't boarded up. If only I could have walked in there, and bought an ice-cream, and sat on the sand with my family, watching the waves coming up the beach and then going back down again. I'd done that a hundred times before, but now it seemed such a treat, it was hard to stop thinking about.

  Ben shook me. I had stopped walking, and was staring at the shop. He pointed out to sea. There was a boat, big enough for maybe twenty people, quite near to the beach. That was the boat that we're in now.

  "We're safe," he told me. "That boat's for us. We're safe."

  The boat looked full to me. There were quite a lot of other people on the beach, including some men who were stopping them trying to wade out to it.

  "Eight more places," one of the men was calling out.

  Ben let me sit down. "Wait here. It's okay. We've got places already."

  I sat down. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, but we had a boat now so I managed it. I watched as Ben walked across the sand and tried to talk to the man who had called out "eight more places." The man pointed; there was a queue nearby, with maybe twenty people in it. Ben argued. The man shoved him. I thought that Ben would shove him back, as he didn't seem to be scared of grown-ups any more, but he went and queued up like the man was saying.

  I was getting worried. I might be eight, but I'm not stupid. I counted how many people there were in the queue. There were twenty three, including children. And eight places on the boat. And maybe some of the people queueing up had family who weren't in the queue with them. I hoped that they had another boat coming, because there was no way we were getting on this one.

  The queue moved quickly. I could see that everyone who got to the front was arguing with the man, but it didn't do anyone any good. A couple of people left the queue before they got to the front' I guess they could hear what the man was telling other people and it wasn't what they wanted to hear from him. Some of the ones who got to the front were told to get on the boat, but most of them weren't. Some of them tried to get on it anyway, but the other men wouldn't let them. A couple of them got beat up quite bad.

  More people walked over to speak to the man, and he pointed them to the back of the queue. There were seven or eight people behind Ben when he reached the front, even though I'd counted six people getting on the boat since he'd started queueing. Only two places left, but he was next up. We were going to be alright. I was glad that he'd made me keep walking, as we would have missed the boat if I'd had a rest.

  But then he was arguing with the man, and I knew that something was wrong. He turned round and pointed towards me. I waved; I felt silly doing it, but it was the first thing that came into my mind. The man tried to push him out of the queue. Ben put his hands up to show that he wasn't fighting, and they started talking again. I heard someone at the back of the queue shouting at him, but he ignored them. He got Nan's money out of his pocket, and gave almost all of it to the man. The man counted it, said something else and wriggled his fingers. Ben gave him the rest. We wouldn't have any money at all when we went to France.

  Ben started walking back towards me. He looked back over his shoulder and I knew that he was saying something to the man, but I couldn't hear what he said. The man shouted back at him. "Supply and demand!" I'm not sure what that means.

  I stood up and waited for Ben. I had woken up a bit. I don't know if it was because the boat was there, or because I'd had the soda water.

  "Have we got tickets?"

  "Yes."

  "Why were you arguing?"

  "He doubled the price."

  "But we're still going?"

  "Yes."

  We walked over to the sea. A man tried to stop us going in, but the other man had left the queue now and waved us past. Two other people were half wading, half swimming to the boat. They must have decided to take on two extra passengers. I wasn't sure where we going to sit as it looked really full already.

  Ben gave me a hug. It was my last one I've had from anyone. I didn't really hug him back, as I wanted to get on the boat quickly before there was no more room left. He gave me a little smile, and I smiled back and told him to get a move on. I wish I would have hugged him now, but I guess a smile was better than nothing.

  It was hard getting to the boat. I'm a good swimmer; I've got badges and everything. I had to swim as the water was too deep for me to wade all the way. But my arms and legs didn't want to do what they were meant to do.

  "Race you," Ben called from somewhere behind me.

  That made it a bit easier. It turned it into a game. And we would be in France soon. I swam. I was slow, but I was swimming.

  I got to the boat. A man reached into the water and pulled me up (but the man next to him told him off for rocking the boat). He sat back down again once I was in the boat. I had to stand up as there was nowhere for me to sit. Someone tried to budge up for me, but the gap was tiny, and I didn't want to sit down until Ben was safely in the boat, too.

  A few other people were pulling themselves up into the boat. The man at the back was shouting at them, but the men on the beach were leaving and there wasn't enough room for the man at the back to come over and make them get off on his own. Some of the people in the boat were helping them up (like the other man did for me), and some o
f them were swearing at them and saying that there were too many people, but no-one tried to stop them.

  I was worried that there might not be enough room for Ben unless he hurried up. I looked back in the water to see where he was. He was maybe ten metres away, standing with the sea up to his chest. He wasn't swimming.

  "Ben! Ben! You've got to be quick!"

  The motor on the boat started.

  "Ben!" I was starting to panic. I didn't want to go without him.

  And then he waved at me. He had a sad little smile on his face. And I knew then that he wasn't coming, that he'd only had enough money for me. That was why he was arguing with the man on the beach. I was going and he was staying behind.

  I tried to jump back into the sea. I didn't want to go without him. I'd rather starve in England than go to France on my own. The man who had pulled me out of the water grabbed me, and stopped me jumping over the side. I struggled, but he held on tight.

  "Ben!"

  I looked at my brother. He looked scared. I don't know whether it was because I was trying to jump in the sea or whether it was because he didn't want to be left behind after all. Maybe it was both. He was shouting at me to stay in the boat.

  The boat started moving. More people were trying to get in. The man wouldn't let me go. I just kept shouting Ben's name over and over again. He waved again, and then turned his back on me and started wading back to the beach. I kept shouting. "Don't leave me, Ben! Don't leave me all on my own!" But he wasn't listening. He just kept walking away from me, even though he could hear how scared I was.

  I kept struggling for a while, but the man kept hold of me and wouldn't let go. And then I saw how far away the beach was, and I knew that I could never swim that far, even in the olden days before I was tired and hungry. And just for a second, I thought that maybe I should jump in anyway and I wouldn't have to go to France all on my own, but that made me scared, too, and I squatted down (there was still no room to sit). I tried not to cry, and I nearly didn't.

  I was really cross with my brother for a while. He had put me on this boat, knowing that all I wanted was to stay with him. And I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye properly. And then I was cross with myself, because I knew that I would never see him again, and the last time we would see each other he had had his back to me and I was shouting at him and making him feel bad about doing something good for me. I whispered goodbye, as I looked back towards the beach, and hoped he could somehow hear me. I wanted him to know that even though I had shouted at him, I still loved him anyway.

  #

  I'm not sure there's much point telling you about our boat going to France, as you're already here, but you've had your eyes shut all this time so maybe I should. There were too many people for me to move around. My legs hurt because I couldn't stretch them (with my hypermobility, they hurt as much if I keep still as if I walk too much). Once, I needed the toilet, and I held it in as long as I could because I didn't want to go over the side of the boat with everyone watching, but when I got really desperate I did (but people shouted at me for rocking the boat as I was trying to get to the edge).

  There was still nothing to eat or drink. Nan had quite a lot of money on her, so I hoped that the man at the back of the boat might have something for all the people from all the money we'd paid, but there was nothing at all.

  The sea was a little bit wavy, and someone on the other end of the boat was sick. The sound of them being sick was gross, and it made me feel a bit sick too, and maybe it was a good thing that I hadn't eaten anything because I might have been sick as well.

  The boat didn't go very fast. As we were going along, we saw another boat behind us. I felt a tiny bit better knowing there were quite a few of us going to France, as I can't speak their language and I wanted there to be other people who spoke English so I had someone to talk to. I don't like being on my own. Maybe there were other children on the other boat (there were only a couple of girls my age on ours), because grown-ups talk about boring stuff like gardens and clothes and shopping and stuff. No offence. Maybe Noah was there. But then the other boat started going in a different direction, which made me sad.

  I started feeling sleepy again. I closed my eyes. I think I must have gone to sleep, as it was quite dark when I opened them again, and the sea was much rougher than it was. Water was coming over the side of the boat (I think it was that that woke me up). There was something wrong with our boat, and it was going slower and slower. The sea was getting rougher, and waves were coming over the side all the time.

  There was a bigger, faster boat coming towards us. The man in charge of our boat stood up and waited for it. I could see the black shapes of a few men standing up on the deck of the other boat. We were going to be saved, but it didn't really mean anything as Ben wasn't here with me to be saved as well.

  And then there was the light, the bright spotlight, so I could hardly see anything at all. You must have seen that, even with your eyes shut. I couldn't see the men on the boat anymore, as the light was in my eyes and I couldn't see anything at all.

  One of them started saying something on a loud-speaker. I thought he would speak in French, but he spoke in English.

  "This is the French Coastguard. You are in French waters. You must turn back."

  The man at the back of our boat doesn't have a loud-speaker, so he shouted instead. "We can't. We're taking on water."

  "I cannot help this. You must turn back."

  "We've got kids on board."

  "I am sorry for this. But you must still turn back."

  Another wave came over the side of our boat. My jeans were soaking wet. Someone started crying and a couple of other people started shouting, but the man on the Coastguard boat didn't pay them any attention.

  I could see lights in the distance. That must have been France. I know I said I didn't want to go there, but now we were so close, and I didn't want to stay on our boat forever. I was feeling sick, what with the waves rocking us backwards and forwards. It's horrible being on a boat with nowhere to go.

  "Please," said the man on our boat. "There's only a couple of dozen of us. What harm would that do?"

  "The President says we are full. I am sorry, but it is not my choice. You must turn back. I will not tell you again."

  Someone jumped in the sea and started swimming. They must have been mad; the waves were getting higher and higher, and we were still quite a long way away from France, even though we could see lights in the distance.

  We turned round. We started going back towards England. People on the boat were really upset, and they were telling off the man in the back for turning round, but I felt sorry for him because the Coastguard had told him to, and they had a bigger and faster boat than us so he didn't really have much choice.

  A few other people jumped in the sea when they saw we were going back. One of them didn't even try to swim. They just jumped in and sank straight away, like a giant pebble.

  The only good thing about people jumping out of the boat was that there was a bit more room in it. I came over here and found you. There was space for me to sit down. You remind me of my Mum a bit. Your face is different, but your hair's the same. So I thought I'd sit here and tell you my story while we try to get back to England.

  I'm a bit worried about you. You opened your eyes for a second when I sat down and I held your hand, but then you closed them again and you haven't opened them again. I could put my hand near your mouth to see if you're breathing, but I'm scared to, in case you're not. You're the only company I've got now.

  The sea is nearly up to the level of the side of the boat now, and I don't think it'll be long before we sink. It's still dark, but I can't see any light in France any more. I can't see any lights in England yet, so I'm guessing we're maybe halfway back.

  I want to close my eyes. I'm still tired, and I'm still hungry, and all I want to do is sleep. But I worry that if I stop talking to you, you might give up and then I'll lose you, too. Besides, if I sleep I might not wake up
again.

  I don't know whether we'll make it back home. It'll be good if we do, because I'd get to see Ben again. If I can find him. I don't think he'll be on the beach anymore, so I'd need to look for him at our house, if I can walk that far, and hope he's there.

  But if we sink, that's okay. I'm scared of drowning in the dark, but at least I'll see Mum and Dad again.

  I'm going to shut my eyes now. I'm sorry. I wanted to stay awake for you. But I'm so tired. There's nothing else I can tell you anyway.

  This was my story.

  I wish I could have heard yours.

  #

  AFTERWORD

  This book was motivated by the question "what if it happened here?" What if our children were the ones fleeing persecution?

  In September 2015, the British Government announced that it would accept a total of 20,000 Syrian refugees over the following 5 years. About 330 a month.

  The UN Refugee Agency estimated that there were 19.5 million refugees in the world in 2014, more than half of whom were children. In October 2014, it was estimated that over 9 million people had fled their homes in Syria.

  There is a perception in the UK that Syrian refugees all want to come here. This overlooks the fact that the refugee population in the UK in 2014 was little more than half that in Germany, and that Turkey had given sanctuary to 14 times more refugees than we have. Lebanon had taken in nearly 4 times more refugees than us, despite their population being 13 times smaller.

  Perhaps the most striking statistic is that the UK refugee population had fallen from 193,510 to 117,161 between 2011 and 2014, a reduction of about 40% in 3 years, just as the crisis was getting worse.

  In this book, the future doesn't look promising for Jack. But there are real children out there, children whose lives are still in the balance. Children we can still help save.

  50% of the royalties raised by this book is being donated to UNICEF. If you would like to make a further donation, please feel free to contact any of the various charities who are making such a difference to the lives of children and adults, both in Syria and across the world, charities such as UNICEF, Oxfam and Save the Children.