Gus smiled at him gratefully. ‘Thanks a lot. Tarra then, both.’
They watched him go in through the door, then Eric turned his attention back to Danny. Up here, high on the hill, the storm had turned into a blizzard and they could barely see a hand in front of them.
‘I tell you what, how about I give you a piggy-back?’ Eric suggested. Danny stared at him uncertainly but then before he could stop him, Eric had squatted down in front of him. ‘Hop on,’ he urged. ‘And once you have, wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, then bury your face in my shoulder. I’ll have you home before you know it now.’
Danny self-consciously did as he was told and was amazed when Eric began to stride surefootedly through the drifts. Just as he’d promised, the lights of Tremarfon soon appeared ahead of them and he breathed a sigh of relief. Once Eric had kicked the kitchen door open, he placed Danny down onto the red tiled floor and began to peel his wet outer clothes off him. There was a welcoming fire roaring up the chimney, and after hoisting Hemily out of the fireside chair, he plonked Danny down into it. Samson immediately pottered over to him and put his head in his lap as Hemily sauntered indignantly away with her tail swishing angrily in the air.
Eric chuckled as he hung up Danny’s wet clothes, and the boy held his chilled hands out to the warmth of the fire. For the first time since he’d been there, he felt as if he had come home. But more importantly, he felt wanted. It was a nice feeling, and he basked in it as he watched Eric from the corner of his eye. He suddenly realised with a little shock that for some reason, Eric didn’t appear quite so daunting now. Admittedly, the eye-patch and the scars were still there for all to see, but somehow they weren’t quite so scary any more. Perhaps it’s ’cos I’ve got used to them, he mused. Or could it be that, underneath, Eric ain’t quite as hard as he likes to make out? Whatever it was, it made Danny happy, and he settled back contentedly into the chair until his dinner was ready.
Down in the village, Lizzie was having her dinner too, but the atmosphere was nowhere near as easy as it was up at Tremarfon.
‘Come along now, Megan,’ Mrs Evans urged her. ‘How are you going to grow into a big strong girl if you don’t eat your soup? Look, I’ve done you chicken, your favourite.’
‘M-m-my name isn’t Megan, it’s Lizzie,’ the child stuttered for at least the tenth time that night.
The woman seemed not to have heard her. She prattled on, ‘I was thinking, now that they’ve had to close the school down, I could be teaching you for a while. We could start after dinner, if you like. After all, if I want my girl to be top of the class, we can’t be shirking now, can we?’
Lizzie gazed miserably down at the dish in front of her. Mrs Evans had forgotten to warm it and a layer of grease floated on the surface, making her stomach revolt. Blodwyn seemed to be forgetting a lot of things these last few days. Only yesterday she had sprinkled salt instead of sugar onto her porridge and then forced her to eat it, insisting that it was good for her. Lizzie had somehow managed to do as she was told, but the second she got to school she’d had to run to the little toilet block where she had been violently sick. Another strange thing that Mrs Evans had started to do was talk to someone whom Lizzie couldn’t see, which was very unnerving to say the least. But worst of all was the fact that she made Lizzie sleep in her big double bed with her. Lizzie hated it and would balance precariously right on the edge of the big feather mattress as far away from the big smelly woman as she could get.
Seeing the child’s hesitation now, a note of irritation crept into Mrs Evans’s voice. ‘Can you see her, Father? Turning her nose up at good food, indeed. Why, there’s many a child would be grateful of such a feast, is there not?’
Lizzie followed her eyes to the chair at the side of the fireplace but there was no one there and she began to get frightened. Why did Mrs Evans keep talking to Mr Evans when they’d recently buried him in the little churchyard in the village? Perhaps he’d come back as a ghost that only Mrs Evans could see? The thought of it made her tremble as the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. She wished Danny were there with her, or better still, her mother. She had promised to come and see them in her last letter, so why hadn’t she done so?
‘Megan, stop daydreaming, child, and eat your soup.’
Lifting her spoon, Lizzie valiantly tackled the greasy mess in front of her. Her mother would be bound to come soon - she had to.
When Danny came down to breakfast the next morning, Eric had a surprise waiting for him.
‘Look, I got to thinking,’ the man told him. ‘I don’t want you getting bored while the school is closed so I knocked that up for you. I don’t profess to be the best carpenter in the world, but I thought it might do you and your mates good to have a bit of fun.’
Danny gasped with delight. Propped up against the back door was a sledge that Eric had made from bits of wood that he had found knocking about. Just as he’d said, it wasn’t the best-looking sledge Danny had ever seen, but even so it looked sturdy and the lad could just see himself whizzing down the hillside on it.
‘Why, it’s wonderful,’ he exclaimed with a smile on his face that lit the whole room up. ‘Soho Gus will be dead jealous when he sees it. Can I try it out now?’
‘Well, it might be a good idea to get some breakfast inside you first,’ Eric smiled. ‘And then if you wrap up warmly I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t take it out for an hour or so. I have to go down into the village to the post office, and while I’m there I’ll see if there’s any mail for us. There’s no way the postman will try to battle his way up the hillside in this weather.’
Danny nodded as he curiously eyed the huge envelope on the dresser. Every single week Eric went down into the village to post one off, but Danny still had no idea at all what was inside them. All he did know was that they were all posted to the same address in London. However, this morning he had far more pressing things on his mind as he thought of all the fun he and Gus were going to have on his new toy, so he attacked the lightly boiled eggs Eric had made for him and then flew up the stairs to get dressed for outdoors.
When he came back, Eric had dragged the sledge outside for him. Proudly, Danny grabbed the string handle and started to haul it through the snow. Once they came to the end of the drive, he eyed the downhill slope doubtfully. It looked very steep.
Seeing his hesitation, Eric chuckled. ‘Well, get on then. Even if you fall off you’re hardly going to hurt yourself, are you? The snow is so thick it will act like a cushion.’
Clambering aboard, Danny lifted his feet as Eric stood behind him.
‘Ready?’
Danny nodded. Eric leaned down to give him a push, and the next minute he was moving, slowly picking up speed as he went. In no time at all he was hurtling down the slope and he whooped with delight. This must be what it feels like to fly, he thought to himself as he gave himself up to the sensation.
The snow had stopped falling for now and everywhere looked breathtakingly beautiful. Even the leafless trees looked pretty, for their barren branches were heavy with snow that sparkled like diamonds in the watery sun.
Seeing Derwen Deg ahead of him, Danny decided to call for Soho Gus. The only problem was, he didn’t know how to stop the sledge. His problem was solved when it suddenly came up against a large stone that was buried beneath the snow, and he was catapulted forward to land in an undignified heap at the side of the gatepost.
Eric’s laughter echoed on the air as Danny emerged from a snowdrift looking like a snowman. The only thing that was hurt was his pride, however, for just as Eric had promised him, the snow had cushioned his fall.
Danny realised that he had never heard Eric laugh before and a grin split his face as he shook himself off.
‘I don’t think I’ve quite got the hang of it yet,’ he shouted up at Eric unnecessarily, and the man laughed even louder as Danny shook himself like a dog and snow flew in all directions.
Gus, who had been playing snow
balls, popped his head over the hedge as he heard the commotion. When he saw the sledge, he raced through the gate and gazed at it enviously.
‘Cor blimey, that’s a beauty. Where did yer get that from?’
Danny cocked his head up at Eric, who was walking down the slope towards them. ‘He made it fer me out o’ some wood he found lyin’ about. Do yer fancy havin’ a go on it?’
‘Not ’arf.’ Needing no second invitation, Gus handed Albert to Danny and sat astride the broad wooden seat. ‘Give us a push then,’ he ordered, and Danny was happy to oblige.
Gus almost took off as the sledge hurtled down the hill, and Eric, who had joined them, felt a lump form in his throat. Danny was gazing with such pride at his new toy, as if he had handed him the Crown Jewels. And yet it was just a few bits of wood that Eric had knocked together.
Danny’s small hand found its way into his as he watched his friend’s antics with glee. ‘Thanks, Eric. It’s one o’ the best presents I’ve ever had. Me dad never made me nothin’ like that.’
‘Perhaps he never had time?’ Eric suggested generously.
‘Huh! More like it would have wasted time he could spend in the pub.’ There was such a wealth of sadness in the child’s voice that Eric was rendered temporarily speechless. Not wishing to lose the light-hearted atmosphere of only minutes before, however, he said, ‘Come on, else the speed your mate is going, he’ll be over the clifftop and straight into the sea.’
Smiling again, Danny loosed his hand and they both started down the hill after Gus, lifting their feet high in the deep snow. By the time they reached the village, all three were breathless but in fine spirits. Eric hadn’t had so much fun for ages.
‘How’s about we call round for Lizzie?’ Danny suggested to Gus.
The other boy shrugged. ‘We could try, but I doubt the old witch will let her out of her sight.’
Danny secretly agreed with him but decided to try all the same, so they dragged the sledge along between them until Ty-Du came into sight. At that point Eric left them to go and do some shopping.
‘Right, here goes,’ Danny said eventually, when he’d plucked up enough courage. ‘Nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained - an’ the worst she can say is no, ain’t it?’
Leaving Gus in charge of the sledge, he approached the shiny red cottage door and, lifting the brass knocker, rapped loudly.
After a while he began to think that there was no one in, but then Lizzie’s pale face suddenly appeared at the little leaded window and a broad smile spread across her face when she saw who it was. Danny turned his attention to the door as he heard the bolts being drawn and the next instant he was looking into Mrs Evans’s distracted face.
‘Good morning,’ he said politely. ‘I was wondering if Lizzie could come out and play with us for a while. Eric has made me a sledge and—’
‘Absolutely not!’ Mrs Evans cut him short mid-flow. ‘Do you really think I want to risk her catching cold? Why, it’s enough to cut you in two out there.’
Lizzie suddenly appeared at her side and gazed up at her. ‘I could wrap up really warm,’ she pleaded.
As Mrs Evans glanced at the girl’s expectant face she seemed to hesitate for a second, but then her face hardened again. ‘I said no for your own sake. No one should be out in this weather unless it’s absolutely unavoidable, so get yourself home, Danny. I can’t think what Mr Sinclair was thinking of, to let you out in this in the first place.’
Lizzie’s face fell as Danny opened his mouth to try once more, but before he had a chance the door was closed in his face.
‘What did I tell yer?’ Gus muttered scathingly. ‘I reckon that woman’s gone a bit barmy. It’s Lizzie I feel sorry for though. She’s got a lot to put up wiv, havin’ to live there.’
Suddenly the day didn’t seem quite so bright as Danny thought of his twin’s dejected face. ‘Shall we head back home?’ he said to Gus.
‘Might as well. There ain’t no point hangin’ around the village if Lizzie can’t come out wiv us. I ought to be gettin’ back anyway. I promised I’d ’elp round up the sheep this afternoon.’
Dragging the sledge about, they began to haul it back the way they had come.
‘Never mind, mate,’ Gus said eventually, hoping to raise his friend’s spirits. ‘We’ll be back at school as soon as the wevver improves a bit then you’ll get to see your Lizzie again.’
Danny nodded, but an uneasy feeling was growing inside him. Lizzie had looked so unhappy and . . . he struggled to think of the word he was looking for . . . desperate - that was it. He determined to talk to Eric about his concerns again the second he got home. Not that he really thought there was much the man could do to help after the last visit to the cottage, when Mrs Evans had almost bitten his head off.
‘Why don’t yer write to yer mum if yer that worried about Lizzie?’ Gus suggested, as if he could read Danny’s mind.
Danny tossed the idea over in his mind before slowly nodding. ‘I reckon I might just do that,’ he replied. Up until now he hadn’t wanted to worry Maggie, but now he had the distinct feeling that he should. With a new purpose he quickened his pace as Gus struggled through the snow behind him.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Now, are yer quite sure that there’s nothin’ we’ve forgotten?’ Beryl fussed as she plumped the pillows on the settee for the countless time.
Her eyes kept straying to the window as Maggie and Jo exchanged an amused glance. If truth were to be told, Maggie was feeling almost as nervous as her mother-in-law, for David was coming home today. But she couldn’t tell her that, of course.
The kitchen was sparkling and the appetising smell of a beef stew and dumplings, which just happened to be one of his favourite meals, was floating around the room. A huge fire was roaring in the grate and Beryl was almost beside herself with excitement, mingled with apprehension, for as yet they were unaware of his injuries.
At one point she had almost carried his bed downstairs, but Maggie had managed to talk her out of it. As she’d pointed out, David would want things to be as normal as possible, and if the need for the bed to come down arose they could always do it once he had arrived.
Beryl glanced at the clock again as she had every two minutes since 6 a.m. She’d intended to start her cleaning last night, but yet another raid had prevented it and they’d all spent the night cowering under the stairs, for there was no room in the garden for an Anderson shelter. Thankfully, the raid had lasted nowhere near as long as the one that had changed Maggie’s life, though of course it had left yet more death and devastation in its wake. Maggie was restless, for as soon as David was home she knew that she could then go to see the twins. It would not be an easy visit, with the sad news she would have to tell them, but even so the need was on her now to hold them in her arms again, even more so since she had lost Lucy.
Dinnertime came and went, and Beryl lifted the stew from the cooker, fearful of it being spoiled. But then at last an ambulance pulled up outside and Beryl shot from her seat, almost tripping in her haste to yank the front door open.
All along the street, net curtains were twitching but she was oblivious as she kept her eyes trained on the back doors of the ambulance. The driver climbed down and opened them, then carefully pulled down the steps while Beryl prayed as she had never prayed before.
And then there he was, and a little sob caught in her throat, for her son looked nothing at all like the healthy young man she had waved away a few months back. He seemed to have shrunk to half his size, and his clothes hung off him. His eyes were sunk deep into sockets that were surrounded with deep shadows. A coat was slung loosely around his shoulders, but he did manage to walk down the steps unaided and she clung to him as she openly sobbed with relief. It was as she was hugging him that she became aware that one of his sleeves was partially empty, and her eyes stretched with horror.
‘Can we just get in, Mam?’ he asked impatiently, deeply aware of the neighbours who were trickling out onto their doorsteps.
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br /> ‘Oh, son, I’m so sorry. Of course we can. It’s just that I’m so pleased to see you.’ She nodded her thanks at the ambulancemen who were busily closing the doors, then hurried him inside to where Maggie was standing waiting to greet him.
‘Hello, David,’ she said softly. There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing she could think of sounded right.
‘Come on. Let’s have that coat off you an’ get you over by the fire,’ Beryl gushed. As she slipped it from his shoulders and saw the empty sleeve tucked up just below his elbow she felt her heart would break, but she kept her voice light. ‘I’ve done you yer favourite stew an’ dumplins, and don’t say no to it ’cos you look like yer need feedin’ up, me lad. A few weeks o’ good home cookin’ an’ we’ll have you fit as a fiddle again,’ she declared.
Deciding to get it over with, David raised his arm, or what was left of it. ‘I hardly think I’ll ever be that again, Mam, not with this.’
She shook her head in denial. ‘It could have been a lot worse,’ she told him. ‘It could have been both yer legs, like poor Bill Stretton over in Beagle Street. At least you can still get about, an’ once you get used to it, you’ll be surprised what you can do wi’ one arm.’
Glancing at Jo self-consciously, he allowed his mother to ease him into the chair, and stepping forward, Maggie introduced them. ‘David, this is my friend, Jo. She was staying with me before . . .’ Glancing at Beryl helplessly she wondered if she should tell him of the tragic events that had led to Jo and herself staying with Beryl. But then she decided that as he was sure to find out anyway, she might as well get her bad news over with.
As Beryl fussed with the dinner, Maggie hesitantly began, ‘The thing is, a lot has happened since the last time we saw you. The twins were evacuated to Wales, and a couple of weeks ago . . .’
Jo squeezed her arm reassuringly, and somehow she managed to go on. Slowly she told him of the night of the Blitz and, as he listened intently, his face crumpled and tears began to trickle down his cheeks.
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