by Joan Moules
When it was, her fears were confirmed. Mrs Dover said he had left the house with Anita that morning at the usual time.
‘What could have happened to him, Miss Clark? I know we had a bit of a to-do last night, but … you don’t think he’s run away, do you?’
‘What sort of a to-do, Mrs Dover?’
‘Oh nothing really. He was a bit cheeky that’s all – upset Mr Dover. But he went off quite normally this morning. Have you asked Anita?’
‘I will.’ Miss Clark prevaricated diplomatically. ‘Now don’t worry and I’ll do a spot of checking.’
She called into the headmaster’s room on her way back to her own class, and reported. She was hesitant to do this, because she liked the lad, he wasn’t bad, and she didn’t want to get him into hot water with authority, but on the other hand she was worried about him.
The headmaster, who should have retired at Christmas but had stayed on because of the war, looked at her with a hurt expression in his eyes.
‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘I thought we might have problems with these evacuees. I had better see the little girl.’
Anita stuck to her story at first, then she confessed that Johnny had said he would catch her up because he had something important to do first.
‘Probably a simple case of truancy,’ the headmaster said to Miss Clark quietly. ‘I’ll have a word with the Dovers and see if he turns up after school is over. If he doesn’t, then we shall need to inform the police.’
‘Miss, what’s happened to Johnny?’ someone from the front row asked when she returned.
‘Nothing, Colin, why should you think something had?’
‘Well, he’s not here, and he’s always saying he’s going back to London.’
‘He’ll be in on Monday,’ she said. ‘Now back to your books children.’
The last hour dragged. While her class were writing she had a pile of exercise books to be marked, but she found herself looking at them and seeing young Johnny’s face all the time. He was an engaging little sinner, she thought. She hoped no harm had befallen him.
When the bell rang Miss Clark dismissed her class quickly. She gathered up her bulging briefcase, locked the cupboards and desk for the weekend and hurried outside in the hope of catching Anita Evesham before she left the building. But she was too late, for Annie was already running back to Kerry Avenue as fast as she could to find out if Johnny had returned yet from whatever his important mission was.
As she ran so she prayed. ‘Dear God, let him be all right,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Johnny.’
CHAPTER 3
1940
‘Annie, Annie, wait for me.’
Annie was travelling at such a speed she couldn’t immediately stop. When she did, and turned round to see Johnny careering towards her, she held out her arms, but had withdrawn them by the time he reached where she was standing.
‘Blimey, where’s the fire,’ he said.
‘Johnny, where have you been?’
‘Been. Why – why school, of course.’
‘Oh no you haven’t. Don’t you dare lie to me, Johnny Bookman. Where have you been?’
‘All right, Annie, but don’t tell anyone. Promise? Swear on the Bible, scout’s honour and all—’
‘I don’t need to tell anyone, they all know. A right old hue and cry there’s been for you today. Don’t stand there looking stupid, Johnny, we’d better get back quick, and my word you’ll have some explaining to do. Why didn’t you tell me you were having a day off? I could have covered for you then, properly.’ She took hold of his hand. ‘Come on.’
The children saw the policeman’s bicycle outside number 14 as they turned the corner into Kerry Road. It was the most well-known bike in Winchurch because it was painted red, white and blue.
‘Gosh, that’s torn it,’ Annie gasped. ‘Johnny, you’d better tell the truth now.’
The constable was a local man and he knew Johnny by sight. He had made it his business to watch out for the evacuees because he thought some of the local children might gang up against them – and he hadn’t overlooked the idea that it could be vice versa. He and his wife were hosts to four of them themselves, and he kept his ear close to the ground so he would know what was going on among the younger population of Winchurch.
Johnny took a deep breath, as Annie suggested, before he went in. Mrs Dover alternated between relief and anger when the children arrived.
‘Thank heaven,’ she said several times. ‘I imagined you lying dead somewhere, and whatever would I have told your mother then?’
‘Let the boy tell us where he’s been,’ the constable said. ‘Come on son, what happened to you?’
Mr Dover had left his study when the law arrived, and was sitting by his wife’s side.
‘That’s the trouble with the youth of today. No sense of duty or gratitude,’ he said when Johnny had finished his tale. He had omitted his reason for needing to go to the post office because Annie was in the room.
Constable Jones looked across to him. ‘It did show a lack of responsibility, you know,’ he said. ‘You must start learning to think of the consequences before you give in to impulses like days off school. I’ll let you off this time, but mind it doesn’t happen again. No real harm’s done, apart from wasting police time.’
‘Oh, but there has been.’ Mrs Dover’s voice was agitated. ‘I sent a telegram to his mother just before you arrived, officer.’
The policeman, who had been heading for the door, looked round. ‘And what exactly did you say in the telegram, Mrs Dover?’
‘Well I – I didn’t say he was missing. I – I kept it short naturally because of the cost, but I did think she ought to know.’
‘Be specific, Ethel,’ Mr Dover’s voice cut in. ‘How did you word the telegram?’
‘Well – I asked her to telephone me.’
Johnny breathed a deep sigh of relief. His mum would go mad if she knew what had really happened. What a mess.
‘Only you can decide if you are to tell her or not,’ said the policeman. ‘I daresay you’ll think of something to say, Mrs Dover. It’s all right, I’ll see myself out.’
When he had gone Johnny said nervously, ‘I’m sorry for causing you all that trouble, honest. But how was I to know you’d go sending a search-party out for me?’
‘That will do,’ Mr Dover said. ‘Go to your rooms now, both of you. Mrs Dover and I wish to talk.’
‘Don’t forget to change out of your school clothes,’ Mrs Dover called after them.
They went upstairs and at the door to her room Annie whispered, ‘Come in to me when you’ve changed, Johnny, and tell me all about it, won’t you?’
Just as he was scrambling into his ‘out of school’ clothes, he heard the telephone in the hall ringing, and rushed on to the landing to listen. Annie heard it too, and they both crouched by the bathroom door, peering through the banisters straight down on to Mrs Dover’s head as she answered it.
To their disappointment she kept her voice low and they heard little. Enough for them to know that it was Johnny’s mother at the other end of the line, but not much else. Mostly Mrs Dover said yes and no, she certainly didn’t seem to be offering any reasons for asking Mrs Bookman to telephone her earlier.
Suddenly Mrs Dover held the earpiece away from her and called up the stairs. ‘Johnny, will you come here a minute, dear. Your mother would like to speak to you.’
If there had been a wide gap in the banisters Johnny would have fallen through, he was pressed so closely to them. He jumped up and rushed down the stairs, startling Mrs Dover so much that she dropped the receiver. It swung crazily at the end of the flex.
He had only used a telephone once before, and that had been with his mother’s help. He picked up the dangling handset and shouted into it, ‘Hullo mum.’
Twice during their conversation she told him not to go away but to wait while she put more money in. And to his enormous relief she only seemed to be telephoning abo
ut his telegram, the one he had sent that morning, and she never mentioned Mrs Dover’s one.
‘I’ll do me best about the cake, Johnny, but it won’t be easy. And I can’t get icing-sugar, but I’ll try and fake something up for you. Exactly what do you want it to say?’
He knew Annie was listening through the banisters, and it would be a pity to spoil the surprise now, especially after all the kerfuffle it had caused.
‘What I said in the telegram. Exactly that, and thanks, Mum. I knew you’d find the stuff.’
They were cut off in the middle of her next sentence, but he heard enough to know she would be in Winchurch about dinner-time tomorrow. He dashed back upstairs, where Annie was struggling into her dress.
‘Yippee,’ he said. ‘Me mum will be down tomorrow.’
During dinner Mrs Dover asked him what his mother had wanted.
‘Just to tell me she’d be here dinner-time,’ he said.
‘Well, you had better have your bath tonight, Johnny. And Mr Dover and I have decided, for your sake, not to say anything to her about your little escapade today. We feel sure you have learnt your lesson and the like will not happen again.’
‘It is very generous of my wife to do this, Johnny, and I trust you appreciate it and will behave yourself properly in future.’
‘If you hadn’t panicked you’d never have known,’ Johnny said. ‘I’d have been home from school at the usual time and no one the wiser.’
‘That is hardly the right attitude,’ Mr Dover said in his measured tones. ‘However, we will close the subject now, but watch your step Johnny, for I shall be watching it closely.’
Annie kicked him under the table, and he decided to take notice of her. With any luck his mum would take him back with her tomorrow, so they might as well keep things good tonight. Then there was the wonderful secret of Annie’s birthday-cake. He hugged the knowledge to himself joyously.
It was late when Annie eventually crept into his room. First he had to have a bath, and while the water was hot Mrs Dover decided ‘Anita must have one too.’ Then she kept popping back on one pretext or another.
‘I thought she’d never go,’ Annie said, perching herself on the end of the bed. ‘Of course she wants you to stay because she gets paid for having us and I think it’s going up. Janet heard her aunt talking about it.’
‘I don’t care anyway. After tomorrow I shall be back home. With a bit of luck,’ he added as the thought came to him that he hadn’t yet mentioned this to his mother. Still, she would know that Billy and several of his old gang were back and he didn’t expect trouble there.
‘It won’t be the same without you,’ Annie said.
‘They’ll probably get someone else. That Mrs Poole will make them because they’ve got the room. Like she made them have me,’ he added. ‘I’m not their sort really – they like kids what jump to it every time they speak.’
‘Mmm. Wonder what sort of time their own children had, Johnny?’
‘Very strict, I expect. Listen, Annie, when I go home will you write to me sometimes, let me know how you are, like?’
‘If you want me to, but you haven’t told me what happened to you today. Come on now, Johnny, do tell. The truth mind – why you really went off like you did. I won’t breathe a word at school, honest I won’t.’
‘Hey, you sounded just like me then.…’
They were laughing about this when the door suddenly opened and Mrs Dover walked in.
‘I thought so. I told Mr Dover I could hear voices. Now listen, you two. We have thrown our home open so you children can be safe, and in return we expect decent behaviour from you.’
‘We weren’t doing anything except talking,’ Annie said.
‘That’s enough, miss – back to your own room, and stay there.’
Annie stood up quickly. Without looking at Johnny she walked slowly out of the room. Mrs Dover did glance once more at the figure sitting up in bed, then without another word, she too went out, closing the door behind her.
Johnny was so tired and yet he couldn’t sleep. Instead he went over and over the events of the day. If only no one had questioned why he wasn’t at school he would have got away with it. And the silliest part of all was that he hadn’t meant to play truant, not this time. All he had wanted was to get Annie a birthday-cake. Now he probably wouldn’t even be here for her eleventh birthday. Maybe he could persuade his mum to stay over until Monday – oh heck, she’d have to go back to work by then. Johnny swore quietly to himself.
Johnny and Annie overslept on Saturday morning and breakfast was finished by the time they went downstairs.
‘You can get your own,’ Mrs Dover said, ‘there are cornflakes and some bread and home-made jam. Don’t put any marg on, it isn’t necessary with jam.’ Her voice sounded as if she was still cross, and her face was slightly flushed. Even her walk across the kitchen, where they always ate breakfast, towards the scullery next door, spoke of her displeasure.
‘What bus are you catching to Bushton, Annie?‘ Johnny said when Mrs Dover was out of earshot.
‘I’m not going. Not much fun on my own. Besides, your mother will be here, and if you do return to London with her, well I guess I’d just like to be around.’
Upstairs Johnny once more stood on the chair to reach his case. He packed quickly, hesitated about whether to put the rest of his money back in the cocoa-tin, and decided against it. He might be able to buy his mum a cup of tea or something on the way home. It was a long journey but he didn’t mind that. It would just be so good to get back, and even if there were bombs and things, well maybe he’d dodge them. The only bleak spot in his morning was the thought of Annie. She was OK. More than OK. If he’d had a sister instead of two brothers that’s who he would have wanted. He’d never thought a lot of girls before, they were usually cry-babies who told tales and spoilt your fun. Then again he didn’t know many, just some of his mates’ sisters when they had to bring them along and look after them, that was all.
Back downstairs he wandered into the kitchen and looked at the clock on the wall. Time was going so slowly today. He wondered how far his mum had got. Hope she doesn’t break Annie’s cake, he thought, that would be awful with all the stuff on ration.
Fancy Annie’s mum making her buy her own present. Not like a birthday, then. He always had a surprise, sometimes it was what he wanted and sometimes it wasn’t, but he never knew until the day. He always had a birthday-cake too, and some of those iced gem biscuits he liked.
One year his brother Ron said, ‘Getting too old for cakes and candles, aren’t you, Johnny?’
Well, he didn’t mind about the candles, but he reckoned it wouldn’t seem like a birthday without a proper iced cake. He’d told Annie about it in one of their nightly chat sessions, and her eyes grew huge with wonder. So much so that he invented bigger and better cakes from other years when he was younger.
‘Matron used to buy some fancy cakes if she knew it was a girl’s birthday, and if she liked her,’ she told him.
He couldn’t wait to see her face when she had this wonderful cake with her name on.
Mrs Bookman was due at Kerry Avenue sometime during the morning. Johnny didn’t know what time her train would arrive, otherwise he would have gone to the station to meet her.
Mr Dover kept out of the way in his study, but Mrs Dover seemed to spend the morning hovering around and straightening cushions.
‘Think she wants to impress your mum,’ Annie said when they were alone for a few minutes.
‘Whatever for?’ Johnny was amazed. ‘She’s got a grander house than us. Not that I’d swap, ours is best any day.’
‘You’re very fond of your family, aren’t you, Johnny?’
He looked embarrassed. ‘Isn’t everyone?’
‘Maybe it’s because you have brothers too and you’re a real family.’
‘Me brothers are a lot older than me, Annie. I was an accident.’
She went off into peals of laughter and he looked surpri
sed. ‘It’s true,’ he said, ‘but once I was born it made no difference, except it kept them a bit poorer than they would have been ’cos me mum had given away all the baby things like. Do you know about having babies and all that stuff Annie?’
‘I know some of it,’ she said. ‘The girls at my old school used to discuss it sometimes. It sounds pretty horrible.’
‘Yes. Still it must be all right or people wouldn’t do it.’
After all the excitement of looking forward to seeing his mother when she arrived Johnny suddenly felt irritable with himself and didn’t know what to say to her. He thought she looked different too, but couldn’t pinpoint why. Unless it was her hair, he thought, as he scuffed his feet on the carpet. It was rolled into a long sausage at the back but the front bit was scraped tightly off her forehead leaving it looking as if the roots were about to spring out. He didn’t like it. It didn’t look like the way he remembered his mum.
They all sat in the front room until Mrs Dover rose, saying she was going to make some sandwiches for lunch.
‘Come along, Anita, then you can go upstairs to your room and read a book for a while to let Johnny and his mother have some time together.’
Johnny, grateful for the chance to discuss the birthday-cake, gave everyone a big grin before shuffling himself into a more comfortable position on the sofa.
‘Annie can come out with us later, can’t she, mum?’
‘If she wants to. I’ll have to catch a fairly early train back. Don’t want to be travelling across London after dark.’
‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I’m all packed ready.’
‘Packed. But you’re not coming back, Johnny. Not back to London you’re not.’
‘Not … well no, of course not. Not today, straight away like. But in a few days when it’s sorted out. I – I was going to talk to you about that, but I got me things together in case you thought it was easier to come with you. When we go out I’ll show you me school. But this way I’ll be here for Annie’s birthday on Monday so that’s good.’