‘Never mind. Cuddle up to me an’ you’ll soon get warm,’ Danny told her reassuringly.
They lay in silence for some time until eventually Lizzie asked, ‘You don’t think Mam will send us away, do yer, Danny?’
He shrugged in the darkness. ‘Shouldn’t think so. It’s London they’re bombin’, not Coventry. I reckon we’re as safe as houses.’
On that optimistic note they drifted off to sleep.
It was some time later when the sound of the back door slamming brought Danny springing awake. Knuckling the sleep from his eyes, he eased his other arm from around Lizzie and inched towards the edge of the bed. Then, very carefully, so as not to disturb his sister, he swung his legs down onto the cold lino and crept towards the door.
‘Ah, bin cryin’ again, have yer?’ he heard his father jeer. ‘Missin’ that brother o’ mine, are yer?’
‘Of course I’m not,’ his mother said hotly. ‘I’m just a bit low, that’s all, worrying about what’s going to happen to us. And keep your voice down. You’ll wake the children.’
Silent as a little mouse, Danny tiptoed to the top of the stairs and listened.
‘Huh! The children. It’s always the bloody children,’ his father exploded. ‘Sometimes I reckon you’d be happier if I were to join up an’ all!’
Danny waited for his mother to deny it, and when no response was forthcoming he frowned into the darkness. Why were his mam and dad always shouting at each other? He’d never heard his mam shout at Uncle David. But then Uncle David was different to his dad. He’d always made time for them, whereas his dad just made them feel that they were nothing but nuisances and always in the way.
‘I don’t want this to turn into an argument, Sam,’ Maggie said wearily. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate at the minute. I’ve got to take the children to get their gas masks and identity discs next week, and on top of that, the men are coming to fit the Anderson shelter out the back.’
‘I don’t know why yer don’t just let the kids go with the next lot of evacuees,’ Sam told her gruffly.
Danny heard her horrified gasp. ‘How can you say that? They’re your children as well, Sam!’
‘That’s as may be. But go on - admit it - don’t yer just wish they weren’t, eh? If they’d been David’s kids yer could all have lived happy ever after, couldn’t yer? It’s as plain as the nose on yer face that you all think more o’ him than me.’
‘That’s a terrible thing to say!’ Maggie cried, but even Danny didn’t find her words convincing.
A funny fluttery feeling started in the pit of his stomach as he heard something overturn and crash to the floor. Then he heard his mother cry out, and unable to bear it, he fled down the stairs and threw the kitchen door open. His father was grasping Maggie’s arm, his fist raised. There was blood trickling from her nose and she was crying, but the second she saw Danny she forced a smile to her face.
‘Hello, love, what are you doing out of bed? I just knocked the chair over and your dad was helping me pick it up.’ She shook Sam’s hand from her arm and glared at him as she righted the chair, then crossing to Danny she gently herded him back towards the stairs door. ‘Come on now, pet. It’s very late. You get back up to bed, eh?’
Danny glanced at his father, who had lit a cigarette and was standing in a cloud of smoke. His face was very red, and the boy could smell the beer on his breath even from across the room.
‘Go on, yer nosy little bugger,’ the man belched. ‘Do as yer mam tells yer, or do yer need me to help yer up the stairs?’
As Sam’s hand shifted to his belt and he swayed unsteadily towards him, Danny turned and sprinted away to the safety of his room, taking the steep stairs two at a time. Once there, he leaned heavily against the door as his heart settled back into some sort of normal rhythm. What had his dad meant about their mam wishing Uncle David had been their dad? It was all very confusing. He was relieved to see that Lizzie was still fast asleep, her thumb jammed tight in her mouth. And what had his mam meant when she said that he and Lizzie were to be issued with gas masks and identity discs? Danny knew what they were; he had seen them on children in the Pathé News at the pictures at the Saturday-morning matinées. All the children in London had them, but why would they need them in Coventry? They were safe here. It was London that was being bombed.
For once he passed Lizzie’s bed and, creeping over to his own, he slithered inside, gasping as he thrust his feet down into the cold sheets. Apart from the fact that half his classmates had been sent to the country and there wasn’t so much food in the shops, life in Coventry seemed to be pretty much as it had been before the war, so why was everyone so worried?
Straining his ears into the blackness he was relieved to hear that all was quiet, so turning on his side, he shut his eyes tight and soon slipped into an uneasy sleep.
The following Monday, as the twins walked home from school, they were shocked to see huge open-backed lorries lined up the length of Clay Lane. Piled high on the backs of them were huge sheets of corrugated iron that workmen were throwing onto the ground.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Lizzie, totally bewildered.
‘These must be for the Anderson shelters Mam were on about,’ Danny replied wisely. ‘I reckon we’re going to get one in our back yard.’
‘But why? What are they for?’
‘You go an’ shelter in ’em if any bombs get dropped, from what I can gather.’ Danny dodged a workman who was trying to manoeuvre one of the shiny sheets up a narrow entry. The air was ringing with the sound of the sheets as they hit the ground and the workmen’s shouts.
All along the rows of terraced houses, women in head-scarves twisted into turbans were standing, arms folded across their wrap-around pinafores, shivering but watching the proceedings with interest.
Soon the twins’ house came into view. Just as Danny had predicted, a lorry was parked outside. Their mother was standing on the doorstep with Lucy, who was now almost a year old, perched on her hip. She waved when she saw them and the twins broke into a trot.
‘What do you make of this then?’ she smiled, deliberately keeping her voice light.
‘Danny says we’ll have to shelter inside these things they’re building if we get bombed, but we won’t get bombed, will we, Mam?’
Hearing the fear in the child’s voice, Maggie hugged Lizzie to her with her free arm. ‘Hopefully not, sweetheart. But it’ll be nice to know it’s there, just in case. Now come on in out of the cold. I’ve got your tea all ready for you, and Grandma’s here. She’s baked you a cake.’
The children trudged past her into the smart front room that was kept for high days and holidays, and on into the kitchen.
Ellen Sharp beamed as they flew into her arms. ‘Hello, me darlin’s. Had a good day at school, have you?’
She had to shout to make herself heard above the noise coming from the yard. Crossing to the window, Danny lifted the net curtain to see what was going on. Their shelter was almost done and looked strangely out of place next door to the coalhouse and the outside lav.
‘Ain’t left much room fer us to play, has it?’ he remarked as his mother came to stand beside him.
‘Well, that won’t matter, will it? You can play inside it,’ she pointed out. ‘Now wash your hands and come to the table.’
Minutes later, they were all seated and their grandma began to slice a big crusty loaf, which she then smeared sparingly with butter.
‘There seems to be a shortage of everythin’,’ she complained. ‘I just wonder what we’ll end up with for us Christmas dinner this year. The shelves in the food shops are half-empty already, an’ the rationin’ ain’t even officially begun yet.’
Maggie spread the bread with jam and passed a slice to Lizzie. ‘Well, at least we’re all still together.’
‘There is that in it, but for how much longer?’ her mother asked. Instantly Maggie’s appetite fled. ‘An’ have you heard from David?’
The children’s ears pricked up as Maggie lifted Lucy into
her wooden highchair. ‘I got a brief note but he didn’t say much,’ she said quietly. ‘Just that he was OK and that he was up North doing his training.’
‘Whereabouts up North?’
Maggie shrugged. ‘He didn’t say. I don’t suppose he was allowed to.’
‘Huh! Damn war,’ Grandma grunted. ‘Let’s just pray as Him Upstairs keeps an eye out for David an’ all the other young men that are out there fightin’ fer their country.’
The room became silent, save for the sound of hammering outside, as the workmen put the finishing touches to the Anderson shelter.
Chapter Three
Three days later, the twins set off for school with their new gas masks slung across their shoulders in little cardboard boxes. Danny was far from happy about it.
‘Fancy havin’ to lump these about everywhere,’ he grumbled. ‘It’s goin’ to be a right pain in the arse.’
‘You’ll have a pain in the arse all right if Mam catches yer swearin’,’ Lizzie warned him as she fingered the new identity disc that was tied around her wrist. She quite liked hers because it was all shiny and new and looked like a bracelet. Danny on the other hand hated his as much as his gas mask, and had chosen to wear it round his neck where it wouldn’t be seen.
‘Can’t see the point in ’em,’ he stated as he kicked at a stone. It was a bitterly cold, frosty morning and the pavements sparkled like diamonds in the weak morning sun. ‘T’ain’t as if we’re goin’ to get bombed now, is it? The Jerries are droppin’ all the bombs on London.’
‘Well, Mam says they’re just in case,’ Lizzie told him sensibly and they hurried on, intent on getting out of the cold.
As they passed Swanswell Pool, Danny was delighted to see that it was frozen over. ‘We could have a skate on that on the way home,’ he remarked joyously, his complaints suddenly forgotten.
Lizzie’s head wagged from side-to-side. ‘Don’t yer remember what happened to Jimmy Nailer last year? He went through the ice in the middle an’ they had to get the firemen to pull him out. He got pneumonia an’ ended up in hospital fer Christmas.’
‘Spoilsport,’ muttered Danny, and they continued on their way, their breath hanging on the air in front of them like white lace.
When they emerged from school that afternoon, the twins were shocked to see huge silver barrage balloons suspended on thick metal wires floating above the city. The spire of the magnificent Cathedral looked strangely at odds amongst them.
‘What are they for?’ Lizzie whispered in awe.
‘I know,’ Danny told her proudly. ‘They’re so as if the enemy planes did come to drop bombs an’ tried to fly too low, they’d get tangled up in ’em an’ crash.’
‘Ugh!’ Lizzie shuddered at the image he had conjured up.
Although it was only four o’clock, it was almost dark by the time the children turned into Clay Lane. It was the first week in December, and normally they would be passing brightly lit Christmas trees in people’s front windows, but this year no one seemed to have the heart for it.
The Lane now looked as it normally did, thanks to the womenfolk who had set to and cleaned up all the mess left by the gangs of men who had erected the Anderson shelters. The rows of back-to-back terraced houses all looked the same, apart from the curtains that hung at the windows, but once they were drawn against the cold winter night, then they became indistinguishable one from another, thanks to the blackout curtains that everyone had now been forced to use.
The children arrived home in a sombre mood, but the second they set foot through the door, their faces lit up.
‘Uncle David!’ they shrieked.
He was sitting in the chair at the side of the fire bouncing Lucy, who was giggling with glee, up and down on his knee.
‘Hello, kids.’ Slinging their gas masks down, they flew across and wrapped their arms around him.
‘Oh, we’ve missed you so much!’ Lizzie was so excited she was hopping from foot to foot. ‘How long are you home for?’
‘Will you be here fer Christmas?’ This from Danny.
‘When did you get back?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Whoa, hold on there. One question at a time, eh? But first let’s see what I have in my pockets.’ Laughing, he placed Lucy down on the rug in front of the fire and checked that the guard was in place. The little girl was crawling now, and would soon be walking.
Lizzie thought her uncle looked very handsome in his uniform, and she was fascinated by the shiny buttons on his jacket.
David proceeded to delve into his pockets and unload all sorts of treats onto the table. The twins eyed them greedily. There were gobstoppers, toffee pincushions, sherbet dabs, farthing chews, and a packet of liquorice bootlaces - the twins’ favourite.
‘But not before your tea, mind,’ their mam warned, though her eyes were shining. Lifting the knitted tea cosy from the pot she poured them each a cup of tea in her best china cups.
‘Cor, Mam, it ain’t often these come out o’ the china cabinet.’ Danny remarked, almost afraid to lift his in case he dropped and broke it.
‘Yes, well, it’s a special occasion, isn’t it? Uncle David being home, I mean.’ Lizzie noted that their mam had turned a pretty pink colour as she said it and wondered why. But she didn’t have long to dwell on it because Danny started firing questions at him again.
‘Have yer killed anyone yet?’
‘No, Danny, I haven’t. And I sincerely hope I never have to.’ Uncle David was solemn again now. ‘I’ve been doing my training. And in answer to your earlier questions, no, I won’t be here for Christmas, unfortunately. They’ve just allowed me a couple of days’ leave before they ship me out.’
Danny’s face fell a foot. ‘Where will they be sending you to?’
David sipped at his tea before answering. ‘I don’t know. None of us do. We just have to go wherever they send us, but I have an idea they’ll be taking us over to France.’
Lizzie noted that all colour had now drained from their mother’s face. She didn’t like the sound of their uncle being sent to France. Wasn’t that where all the fighting was going on? She’d seen newsreels of the soldiers there, and it didn’t look very nice at all.
All the time they were talking, Lucy was clinging onto the edges of a chair, but suddenly she let go, and on very unsteady feet she took her first two steps.
Everyone’s mouths fell open with amazement as Lucy beamed at them, as if aware of what a great milestone she had just passed. Uncle David swooped towards her and snatched her up just as she was about to fall forward, and everyone laughed as the tense mood was broken.
‘Well, I’ll be!’ Uncle David’s eyes were moist as he kissed the downy hair, so like his own and his twin brother’s. ‘No matter where they send me now I’ll have this to remember.’ He and Maggie exchanged a funny look, which didn’t go unnoticed by the twins, but before they could say anything, the back door suddenly flew open and Grandma Sharp burst in carrying a large dish covered with a crisp white tea-towel.
‘Why, David lad - I didn’t know you were back. How long are yer home for? My, it’s good to see yer all safe an’ sound.’
Dropping the dish onto the table she caught David to her in a great hug and the twins giggled as he blushed a deep crimson.
They chatted for a few moments until Grandma said to Maggie: ‘Pop that in the oven to keep warm, love. I queued up an’ got a load of mince today so I thought I’d do you all a cottage pie while I were makin’ ours. No sense in it goin’ to waste, is there?’
‘Thanks, Mam. That’ll go down a treat.’ When Maggie glanced nervously at the wooden clock on the mantelpiece and then back at David, an unspoken message passed between them and he hastily rose from his seat and started to shrug his long arms into a khaki-coloured overcoat.
‘It’s time I were off,’ he stated. ‘Sam will be home from work in a minute an’ he won’t take kindly to findin’ me here delayin’ your dinners.’
‘Aw, do yer have to go, Uncle David?’ Lizzie’s
eyes filled with tears as he strode towards the door. He stopped to tousle her shining ringlets and tweak her ribbons.
‘’Fraid so, Lizzie. Your other grandma will have my guts for garters if I’m late for my tea. But I’ll tell you what - I’ll go sniffin’ round to see if I can’t find you a Christmas tree tomorrow, an’ if I do I’ll drop it in when you get in from school. How would that do?’
‘Ooh, yes, please.’ Happy again, Lizzie watched him leave, closing the door behind him.
His footsteps had barely finished echoing in the entry when Grandma Sharp sighed and glanced meaningfully at Maggie. ‘Bloody shame if you were to ask me,’ she said.
Maggie flushed and hissed, ‘That’s enough o’ that, Mam. Especially in front of the children.’
Danny raised his eyebrows at Lizzie in exasperation. Sometimes grown-ups were very hard to understand.
Later that evening, as the children sat at the kitchen table doing a jigsaw, Danny suddenly remembered the treats his uncle had brought them.
‘Can we have a few of the sweets Uncle brought us, Mam?’ he asked innocently.
His father, who was reading the newspaper in the fireside chair, instantly looked up. ‘An’ what uncle would that be then?’
‘Uncle David,’ Lizzie piped up brightly. ‘He’s home on leave fer a couple o’ days an’ he popped round to see us.’
‘Did he now!’ When Sam’s head snapped round to glare at Maggie, who was sitting opposite to him, she tensed and her knitting needles seemed to click even faster.
‘Oh yes. I er . . . forgot to mention it, what with getting the dinner out an’ seein’ to Lucy, an’ one thing an’ another.’
‘It’s time you pair were in bed,’ their father suddenly said, turning his attention back to the twins.
‘But Dad, it’s only just gone seven,’ Danny protested.
‘I don’t care if it’s only just gone six. I said bed. Now get up them stairs if yer know what’s good fer yer.’
Moonlight and Ashes Page 3