Girl with Secrets: a coming of age war story and family saga full of romance, mystery and danger in London’s East End.

by Carol Rivers

  Alone in their room, Daisy voiced her suspicions. ‘I think Aunt Pat and Grandma guessed where we went today.’

  Bobby nodded slowly.

  ‘Why don’t they want to talk about it?’

  ‘People have other things to think about.’ Bobby climbed under his floral cover.

  Daisy shivered under the cold sheet. She knew Bobby wanted to forget about what they saw today. ’I miss Mother and Pops and Matt,’ she yawned. ‘Wattcombe’s not the same as it was.’

  Bobby drew the cover over his head. ‘Go to sleep, Daisy.’

  She closed her eyes and listened to his soft breathing. Her thoughts drifted to London and the family and Sally whom she missed dreadfully. Pops only ever sent telegrams. Mother had written, but short letters that were rather boring. It wasn’t as if Daisy hadn’t written herself. She had composed all of three long letters and described almost everything that had happened in detail.

  All except going to the old house.

  That was too big a disaster to write in a letter.

  ‘Merry Christmas, you two!’ Mother and Pops stood at the open door on Christmas Eve.

  Daisy couldn’t believe her eyes. She had been down in the dumps. Every dreary day since coming to Wattcombe was like a heavy winter’s coat that she could never take off. It just got heavier and heavier, weighing down on her shoulders. They had been evacuated and as Grandma would say, “that was that!” Was she dreaming as she gazed into the faces of the two people she missed most in all the world?

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask us in?’ grinned Pops. ‘This isn’t the welcome we expected.’

  Daisy was overcome with joy as Bobby flung himself into their arms. The next moment she joined him. Tears spilled as they hugged and kissed.

  ‘Gracious me,’ said Aunt Pat as she appeared from the kitchen.

  ‘Well, I never did!’ cried Grandma, ‘This is a surprise!’

  ‘We would have come sooner,’ said Mother. ‘But petrol is scarce.’

  ‘So many shortages,’ grumbled Pops as he slipped off his trilby hat. ‘And so much red tape.’

  Daisy felt excited. ’How long will you stay?’

  ‘Until Thursday, treasure.’

  ‘I only hope I’ve enough food,’ worried Grandma as they all hurried in to the warmth of the fire.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Mother. ‘We’ve brought provisions with us.’

  ‘You can sleep in our beds,’ volunteered Bobby eagerly.

  Grandma smiled. ‘The children will be comfortable enough down here.’

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ said Aunt Pat in a fluster.

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Mother.

  Daisy followed her mother into the hall. ‘We want to come home,’ she whispered. ‘We miss you.’

  ‘I’m sorry Daisy, but you’ll have to wait until it’s safe.’

  ‘But - ‘

  ‘Daisy?’ called Grandma. ‘Where are you? Your father is asking about school.’

  ‘Run along,’ said Mother giving Daisy a tap on her bottom signalling the end of the matter.

  Chapter 27

  ‘Mr Musgrave is nearly blind, well, not quite, but almost,’ regaled Daisy. ‘Mrs Gardiner nods off quite a bit. She often forgets our names. I read stories to the children each day, but they aren’t very interested. They can’t read themselves so I’ve taught them small words like “but” and “and”. When I get to a “but” or “and” I tell them to shout out as if it was a game. Some of them I’ve taught to say their ABC and some of them their numbers, like two plus two, and four plus four. But no one knows their times tables. Not even the older ones.’

  ‘But surely there is some kind of school management?’ Pops protested, looking baffled after enjoying his cup of tea that took at least half an hour to arrive from the kitchen.

  ‘A child of ten shouldn’t be teaching but learning,’ he decided.

  ‘It’s different here,’ Bobby explained carefully. ‘The kids are all evacuees.’

  ‘They think the war is a holiday,’ chimed in Daisy. ‘They don’t want to learn, but take it all as a bit of a joke. Tell Pops about Mr Musgrave, Bobby.’

  Bobby looked embarrassed. ‘Mr Musgrave can’t see very well so the class just mucks around.’

  Pops looked shocked. ’What happened to Mr Fraser?’

  ‘He’s in the army now, like Mr Pine. Mr Keen, the new headmaster said all the younger teachers have been called up. The retired ones have taken their place.’

  ‘Some of the infants have dreadful accidents,’ exaggerated Daisy. ‘They cry for their mothers nearly all day. Others make disgusting smells and just giggle.’

  Pops shook his head wearily. ‘We thought Wattcombe was the best chance of an education for you.’

  ‘It was,’ agreed Bobby politely. ‘It was nice when we were younger.’

  ‘I forgot my numbers,’ added Daisy with a rush of feeling. ‘I’ve nearly forgotten everything I learned at school.’

  ‘My goodness,’ said Pops. ‘What a poor show.’

  ‘Do you want another cup of tea?’ Daisy was pleased with her performance.

  ‘Not now.’ Pops frowned. ‘Perhaps I’d better bring in the luggage. You two can help me.’

  ‘You needn’t have worried Pops,’ hissed Bobby as they put on their outdoor clothes.

  ‘Well, it’s the truth.’

  Daisy understood the importance of exaggeration when it was needed and it was needed more now than ever before. But she also knew her brother was a stickler for facts, just like Pops. So she endured a painful silence with gritted teeth comforted by the memory of Pops’s horrified expression when he learned of the pitfalls of Wattcombe’s wartime education.

  As they joined Pops outside, she told herself that for the first time ever, she knew better than Bobby.

  ‘Happy Christmas one and all,’ said Mother the next day after enjoying Grandma’s roast chicken dinner. ‘The meal was delicious.’

  ‘Mouthwatering,’ agreed Pops.

  ‘Thank you, Grandma and Aunt Pat,’ said Bobby, forking the last potato on his plate.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Daisy. She wished now she had made more of an effort to make decorations. If she had known Mother and Pops were coming she would have brought some chalks and paper from school. Mrs Gardiner wouldn’t have noticed. These days, she spent more time dozing than teaching

  The smell of cooking wafted pleasantly in the air as Daisy helped her mother and aunt. When all was clean and tidy they joined the others in the living room.

  ‘It’s impossible to find wrapping paper,’ complained Mother. ‘We had to use newspaper.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Bobby, tearing open his present.

  To Daisy’s dismay, there were very few treats; a dog-eared girl’s annual and exercise book minus its first page. Bobby received a board game with its dice missing and an elderly railway encyclopaedia.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Bobby, looking forlorn.

  ‘We can play games tonight,’ suggested Aunt Pat cheerfully. ‘I’ll borrow the dice from Snakes and Ladders. Why, it’ll be just like old times.’

  But Daisy thought how unlike old times this Christmas was. There were no new football boots for Bobby or plimsolls for her or Rowntree’s York Chocolate or Duncan’s Hazelnut.

  ‘I tried for fruit,’ Mother apologised. ‘But there was none left.’

  ‘All a bit depressing,’ said Pops from the fireside chairs.

  ‘How are the family?’ Aunt Pat asked.

  Daisy was shocked when Mother replied. ‘Betty has taken leave from the factory.’

  Aunt Pat looked surprised. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘She’s joined the Women’s Voluntary Service.’

  ‘But who will be secretary?’

  ‘We’ve employed a young woman,’ said Pops with a shrug. ’She’ll manage the accounts now Neville Calder has been called up to the navy.’

  Daisy could hardly believe her ears. Aunt Betty had left the factory and Mr Calder
had joined the navy! She wanted to clap her hands.

  ‘However, the factory has been requisitioned,’ Pops said gloomily. ‘We’re making armaments for the war effort.’

  ‘But that’s good,’ said Grandma doubtfully. ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Pops half-heartedly. ‘But we’ve had to ditch our new valves. Just when we’d found something special.’

  ‘You and your valves, Nicky!’ Aunt Pat dismissed.

  Pops thrust back his wave of thick hair and sat forward. ‘That’s just it, Pat. Valves are the heart and soul of electronics. You could compare a basic radio valve to your good old King Edward spud. But you know a real potato when it’s new and freshly dug from the ground. Ordinary valves for instance, can be generated in such a way as to completely outshine their counterparts. Just think of the power they could produce for the whole of mankind.’

  ‘Darling, I’m sure everyone’s heard quite enough of your pet project,’ interrupted Mother patiently.

  ‘Poor, Nicky,’ said Aunt Pat, ‘your valves mean so much to you.’

  Daisy wanted to say that no one understood Pop’s inventions, not even Mother. He sat back in his chair, quiet again.

  ‘And Matt?’ asked Grandma. ‘Has he flown yet?’

  ‘No,’ said Mother with a frown. ‘He’s with Amelia and her parents. The poor boy only managed a few days leave.’

  ‘How grand for them to be together,’ said Grandma.

  Daisy didn’t think it grand at all. Matt had chosen to be with Amelia and her stuffy parents rather than Mother and Pops. But even so, she was not downcast for Aunt Betty had escaped the evil clutches of Mr Calder. Her secret would be safe forever.

  Chapter 28

  ‘We’re going to walk to the village today,’ Bobby told Daisy the next morning as they woke up.

  ‘I’d rather ride in the car.’

  Bobby chuckled. ’Cheer up, little sister.’ He ruffled her hair and made her giggle. Bobby could always make her smile when he wanted to.

  After breakfast they set off. Pops carried lemonade and homemade cake in a basket and they sat on the bench usually occupied by the breathless members of the village council.

  ‘This feels much more like Christmas,’ Daisy said, enjoying her slice of cake.

  ‘It’s a very different Christmas,’ said Pops, grinning.

  ‘Has Matt gone up in an aeroplane yet?’

  Daisy knew Bobby was keen to know everything about the airforce.

  ‘He’s learning his theory,’ said Mother as she packed away the picnic things. ‘It’s very hard work. Every cadet has to pass his exams before he can fly.’

  Daisy glanced at Bobby. She hoped the mention of hard work might put him off joining the airforce.

  ‘We saw Spitfires flying over Wattcombe,’ he said, disappointing her. ‘They were in formation. They were amazing.’

  ‘Were they now?’ Pops said. ‘They must be stationed at the aerodrome west of here.’

  ‘An aerodrome?’ cried Bobby. ‘How far is it?’

  Pops threw back his head and laughed. ‘Too far, I’m afraid.’

  Mother waved her gloved hand. ‘And anyway, these places are secret. No one is allowed in.’

  Daisy knew that Mother didn’t want to encourage talk of the airforce as one son preparing for active duty was enough.

  The next day it began to drizzle and so Aunt Pat brought out the entertainment. Daisy didn’t mind playing the games they had played at least a hundred times whilst staying in Wattcombe. It wasn’t boring with Mother and Pops here. There was laughter and fun and jokes and teasing. Grandma made a wonderful supper which Daisy helped to prepare. There were slender slices of left-over chicken, together with cheese and pickles and some of Mr Webber’s delicious cow’s milk, followed by hot, baked scones. Mother had brought a little butter which melted into the soft, scented dough.

  ‘We didn’t tell them about the fire in our old house,’ said Daisy that night from her makeshift bed on the couch.

  ‘It would only spoil Christmas,’ yawned Bobby. ‘They might know anyway.’

  ‘I suppose it’s just another secret that we aren’t supposed to know.’

  Bobby yawned loudly. ‘Go to sleep, Daisy.’

  She drifted off, trying to think of a reason to prevent Mother and Pops from leaving. Was she sick? Unfortunately she felt very well indeed and couldn’t muster up a hint of flu or a tummy ache or even a toothache.

  So that, as Grandma would say, was that.

  On Thursday morning the wind howled, the gutters dripped and the rain lashed against the windows.

  ‘Nicky, are you sure you’ll be safe driving back in this awful weather?’ asked Grandma at breakfast.

  ‘Wait another day,’ Daisy begged. Perhaps God had sent a storm to stop her parents from leaving?

  ‘I wish we could,’ replied Pops, finishing his cup of tea with a final gulp. ‘But my meeting is at six sharp.’

  ‘The car might get washed into a river,’ Daisy protested. ‘Or the engine might stop.’

  ‘A chance we’ll have to take, treasure,’ said Pops, regretfully.

  ‘Come along, Pat,’ said Grandma, ‘you can help me in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ve made a list of things I need to send to you,’ said Mother as they stood in the hall. ‘I promise to tell Aunt Betty to reply to your letter. Is there anything else you want?’

  ‘I’d like to write to Sally, but I don’t know where she is.’

  Mother smiled. ‘I’ll do what I can to find out.’

  Bobby looked up at Pops. ‘And I’d like to write to Sammy.’

  ‘The doctor may know,’ Pops replied as he piled one suitcase on top of the other. ‘But don’t get your hopes up. London is in chaos.’

  He gave Bobby a hug then swept Daisy into his arms. She could smell the slightly damp gabardine of his mac and the familiar waft of cigarettes. She hugged him and the tears fell.

  ‘Now, now, treasure. It won’t be long before you’re home.’

  Daisy felt a stir of hope. ‘We could catch the bus to London. There’s a stop in the village.’

  Pops looked amused. ‘You’ve got it all worked out, Daisy Purbright.’

  ‘Be good,’ said Mother as she hugged Daisy tightly. ‘Look after each other.’

  Daisy watched through the rain-soaked window as Mother and Pops hurried to the car. When would she see them again?

  Chapter 29

  ‘Welcome to the new children,’ said Mrs Gardiner on the first day of school in January. ‘Daisy will tell you all about school and help you with your lessons. Now get out your pencils and paper.’

  ‘I ain’t got none,’ shouted a mischievous looking little boy.

  ‘Nor ‘ave I.’

  ‘Daisy will get you some from the cupboard.’ Mrs Gardiner sank down into her chair, which was now bolstered by cushions so that she could rest more comfortably. Before Daisy had time to hand out the necessary supplies, Mrs Gardiner’s chin had dropped to her chest. Little snores echoed round the classroom.

  There were giggles and shouts from the class and Daisy clapped her hands. ‘Be quiet, everyone.’

  But very few listened. The new children were unruly and urged the others to disobey everything Daisy said.

  ‘I want me mum,’ wailed a little girl of about five.

  ‘I do too,’ cried another.

  ‘I wanna go ‘ome.’

  ‘I’ve wet meself.’

  By twelve o’clock, Daisy had spent more time taking the children to the cloakroom and making sure they left the toilets clean and tidy, than in class. When the bell rang, the children all ran out, refusing to form an orderly line.

  ‘Is it four o’clock?’ Mrs Gardiner asked when she woke up.

  ‘Not yet, Mrs Gardiner.’ Daisy wished it was.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘In the playground, Mrs Gardiner.’

  ‘Then you’d better go after them.’

  Before Daisy had reached the door, the elderly
lady was snoozing again. Daisy wished with all her heart that Pops could be here to witness this depressing state of affairs.

  The next day there were light showers of snow and though the countryside looked very pretty, the complaints came in thick and fast from the evacuees. Many had no heavy coats or warm scarves. They came from homes where clothes were handed down from an older brother or sister and were very thin and patched. As for walking to school, they were frightened of this new world that surrounded them. Some had never seen cows or bulls before. Others liked to make a show of throwing stones or chasing any animal that appeared. As the snow melted to wet footprints, muddy patches streaked the corridor. Daisy was never without a broom or mop close to hand. Since there were icy patches on which the younger children fell over, there were always scratches and bruises to wash clean.

  ’Wrap up well,’ Grandma warned one morning before they left for school. ‘I’ve never felt so cold.’ Shivering, she huddled under her shawl.

  ‘The children will freeze in the classroom,’ said Daisy as she put on her coat.

  ‘So will we, if the coal merchant doesn’t deliver.’ Aunt Pat shook the empty scuttle.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ dismissed Grandma. ‘We’ll manage.’

  But when Daisy and Bobby got home from school that day, the house was freezing.

  ‘Where’s Grandma?’ they asked.

  ’She went to bed.’ Aunt Pat was in a fluster.

  ‘Did the coal merchant come?’

  ‘He called to tell us there’s none available. Even worse, the stove broke down.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Daisy asked.

  Aunt Pat shrugged. ’It just stopped working.’

  They all shivered their way through supper. ‘What are we to do if it’s just as cold tomorrow?’ Aunt Pat asked. ‘Oh, dear, I fear we’ll all freeze.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Bobby at once. ‘At first light, Daisy and me will take the barrow and search for wood.’

  Daisy watched Aunt Pat as she went to the kitchen. Without Grandma, she seemed lost.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ Bobby said, yawning. ‘Tomorrow we’ll get up early.’