by Joan Moules
‘Well, if I’m your girl,’ she glanced at the ring on her finger, ‘then I’m entitled to an opinion. It’s true what you said, that it doesn’t offend me personally – sometimes I find it funny, but sometimes it’s embarrassing. Especially when other people are there and it just looks as if you’re showing off then. I get embarrassed as much for you as for me, Johnny.’
‘OK. But don’t start nagging me. Mostly you’re a good sport, Annie, but jest because you went to good schools once, don’t think you can lord it over us as didn’t. Come on, we’re wasting our time. If we want to go on the river before we have to meet old Mother Dover then we’ll have to be quick.’
‘But we can’t go – the old boy won’t let us have a boat.’
‘Who says? He can’t watch them all, Annie. Now you do just as I say and we’ll have a boat on the river this afternoon – you’ll see.’
‘What are you going to do, Johnny?’
‘Nothing very bad. Nick a boat for half an hour. Now, can you keep him talking, about anything, for five minutes?’
She nodded.
‘Right, that’ll give me the chance to grab a boat. Look, there’s a couple just coming in there. Now while they’re talking to him when they get off you be there too, and you get him back into his hut, or at least with his back to the boats see, and then, after five minutes, walk along the bank that way.’ He pointed upstream from the boatman’s hut, ‘and I’ll be along there waiting to pick you up.’
‘You can row, can’t you, Johnny?’
‘ ’Course I can, silly. I wouldn’t think of doing it otherwise. Me and me dad used to always have a boat out on Sunday mornings in the park.’
He left her walking towards the hut, just as the couple in the boat were pulling into the side.
‘Now, Johnny,’ he said to himself when he saw Annie engage the boatman in conversation and start walking towards the hut with him. He was hidden behind a nearby tree and within a minute he had the boat untied and was pulling away from the bank.
He had told Annie the truth when he said he could row, but he had not mentioned that his father or his brothers had always done the bulk of the work, letting him take over for a short while each trip. It was tricky at first, and he needed to get a good way along before he picked Annie up – no use doing it within sight of that old blighter back there.
All went well and when he thought he had travelled far enough Johnny drew in to the side and let the oars rest. He had chosen a good spot, just beyond a weeping-willow tree, which effectively hid the little craft. From here he could watch for her and be ready to pull away once she was safely in the boat.
She came after a while, sauntering along the bank in a casual way and Johnny silently applauded her calm. He whistled softly and saw her look around and hesitate.
‘Annie,’ he called in a low voice, ‘here.’
She ducked beneath the branches of the tree and quickly clambered into the boat. Johnny rowed smartly away.
They hugged the bank for a while longer, then Johnny moved towards the middle of the river. ‘We’re far enough away now, I think,’ he said. ‘We should just look like two dots from the hut. Even your plaster won’t show up much from this distance.’
Annie looked at it, covered now with signatures and good-luck messages from her classmates.
‘You think of everything, Johnny. Have you done something like this before?’
‘No, ’course not. Yes, once me and me brothers did,’ he remembered. ‘But I was quite small then and didn’t have much to do with it. But they had to take me with them because they were supposed to be looking after me that morning.’
‘Careful, Johnny.’ At Annie’s sudden cry he pulled on the oar and managed to miss the other boat, who also took evasive action.
‘Think we’ll get into the side a bit,’ he said, ‘but not too much because you can get stuck that way.’ From somewhere in his subnconscious memory he recalled hearing his dad say that. It stood him in good stead now and made Annie gaze at him with admiration.
‘How far are we going, Johnny?’ She looked at her watch. ‘We’ve three-quarters of an hour before we meet Mrs Dover. And we have to return the boat.’
‘We’ll leave it somewhere along the bank. Maybe where I picked you up,’ he said. ‘No sense in letting the grumpy old geezer see us now. If he’d let us hire it properly he’d have been paid properly. We’ll go on a bit, shall we? It won’t take us long to get back.’
They pulled over to the side and Johnny manoeuvred the small craft well. It was all right once you got into the rhythm of the thing, he thought, but it was distracting when they talked. He lost concentration then and they either drifted or started to swing round.
Annie trailed her good hand in the water. ‘It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it, Johnny. Wish we could stay all day. If we’d come on our own we could have brought our sandwiches and had a picnic on the water.’
‘We’ll do it another time, shall we? We break up from school next month and can come in more often. Suppose we’d better be getting back now because we’ll have to walk along to the café from where we leave the boat.’ He started to turn the craft round too quickly and almost collided with another, then the little boat went three times round in circles. Eventually he got over to the bank, but it was the opposite side to where he wanted to be.
‘We’ll shoot across as soon as there’s less traffic,’ he said, ‘then we’ll be all right.’
Johnny was sweating by the time he had manoeuvred the boat across the water. He let the oars rest for a few moments, then he grinned at Annie.
‘I’m starving,’ he said, ‘hope Mrs Dover packed lots of food.’
He started rowing again but he was too close to the bank, so using one oar to push himself away he shot out into mid-river.
Annie laughed. ‘I can’t wait until my arm’s better so I can take a turn rowing with you,’ she said. ‘You look so powerful.’
‘It’s easy once you get the knack.’ Johnny decided that now they were on the home stretch he’d really dazzle her. He had been a bit bothered getting from one side to the other, but rowing downstream like this now was child’s play.
‘Hold tight,’ he said, ‘and we’ll go really fast for a few yards before we pull into the side.’
He took a deep breath, grinned at her glowing face, and pulled hard on the oars. Annie gripped one side with her good hand, saw another boat heading for them and stood up, shouting, ‘Johnny get out of the way quick.’ Then she toppled over into the water.
Johnny jumped in, caught her round the waist and swam with her towards the bank. He was a powerful swimmer and when he reached the bank there was a crowd gathered there to help them both from the water.
‘Well done, boy.’
‘You both all right.’
‘Better get the girl to hospital and let them check that arm, I reckon.’
He heard the comments going on around them, then he saw Mrs Dover. Attracted by the crowd she had walked up to see what was going on.
‘Johnny, Anita,’ she gasped, ‘whatever …’
‘These two belong to you, missus?’
The man who was even now helping them to their feet looked like a farmer. ‘You be a strong swimmer, boy,’ he said to Johnny.
‘They are my evacuees,’ Ethel Dover said.
‘Well, best get ’em home and dry ’em out fast. And get the plaster seen to,’ he added. ‘They’ll be none the worse for their soaking, I reckon.’
Mrs Dover saw the boatman first. ‘Fancy letting two children go on the river like that,’ she said as he approached. ‘They could both have drowned. As long as you got your money you didn’t bother, I suppose – no sense of responsibility.’
The old man was red in the face as he turned on her. ‘Watch your tongue, woman. They stole the boat and if anything had happened no blame could be laid at my door. Unruly children, they ought to be back home where they belong, not causing havoc in our countryside.’
‘Stole the boat?’
>
‘Ay, stole it. I did tell ’em they couldn’t have it, I did, and next thing the darng boat be gorn and these two here tipping her upside down.’
‘We did not tip her upside down,’ Johnny said through his shivers. ‘We fell out, but we didn’t harm the boat.’
‘Didn’t harm it! When the other boat practically sliced it in two! Look at the damage. Look at it, I say. Young hooligans, and thieves into the bargain.’
‘Better get these children home,’ someone said. ‘Why don’t you leave your name and address with the boatman and sort it all out later. The little girl’s arm should have attention.’
One of the women in the crowd said she would be happy for them to come to her house and get dry before returning home on the bus, and so the day out finished. They ate their sandwiches, not by the river as planned, but in someone’s house in Bushton, wrapped in dressing-gowns that were too big for them, while their clothes flapped about on the washing-line.
It was a grim, silent journey on the bus back to Winchurch, then a trip to the doctor’s to check whether Annie would need to return to hospital to have a fresh plaster. It felt soggy and uncomfortable but she knew she would have to put up with that and she didn’t expect sympathy.
Johnny was summoned to Mr Dover’s study before dinner that evening and when he came out he whispered to Annie, ‘Come upstairs as soon as you can.’ Then he went to his bedroom. Within five minutes Annie joined him there.
‘What happened,’ she asked. ‘What did he say to you?’
‘That I’d have to leave. Along lecture about his own children and how they never behaved like this and he wasn’t going to stand it from someone else’s when he hadn’t had it from his own, blah, blah, blah …’
‘Leave? Oh no, Johnny. But it isn’t fair. It was as much my fault as yours. I’ll go and tell him so.’
‘No good, Annie. I stole the boat and that’s what’s got their goat. I don’t mind anyway. I’ve been wanting to go home for ages. Except for leaving you here it’s OK by me.’
‘Nevertheless I shall tell them. I did tell them but they wouldn’t listen. Well, if you have to go I shall too. Then they’ll have no evacuee money at all.’
‘I don’t think it’s much, Annie. And I don’t think it would bother them all that much either. They’re not poor people, are they?’
Annie didn’t answer, and Johnny saw the tears in her eyes. ‘Don’t start piping yer eye,’ he said roughly. ‘That’s not going to help. And when I’m gone you’ll probably forget all about me anyway.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I won’t. I’ll never forget you, Johnny. It’s funny really, because if it hadn’t been for the war I don’t suppose we would have met, would we? I mean I’d have been away at boarding-school and I never came to the places you visited and you never came to mine.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ he said. ‘You’re not like most girls – you’re a good ‘un. But it’s not the end of everything, Annie. I’ll come and visit, they can’t stop me doing that, and we’ll have a boat out again and go to the pictures and go walking. And when the war’s over and you’re back in London …’
Mrs Dover called up the stairs that dinner was ready. Annie grinned and wiped the tears away. ‘You’ll forget all about me, I know you will.’
As they reached the top of the stairs he caught hold of her waist. ‘I won’t, you know. I promise.’
Annie did tell the Dovers that it was as much her fault as Johnny’s. ‘I egged him on to get the boat,’ she lied. ‘He wouldn’t have taken it on his own, and if that silly old man had let us hire it we wouldn’t have taken it at all.’
‘That’s as may be,’ Mrs Dover told her smugly. ‘The fact is that Johnny actually took the rowing-boat after he had been told he mustn’t have one. He risked both your lives—’
‘He saved mine,’ she interrupted angrily.
‘That’s enough, miss. Neither of you should have been on the water in the first place. If you egged him on as you say then you should be ashamed of yourself. And you must be very weak to listen to her,’ she said turning to Johnny. ‘Anyway our minds are made up. High spirits are one thing – stealing is another. Johnny goes home.’
‘Good. You never have wanted me here,’ Johnny muttered. ‘I’m glad to be going.’
CHAPTER 7
1941
Mrs Bookman had a day off from the factory to come down and sort things out.
‘Stealing. Showing us up like that. We may not be as well off as some but you know right from wrong. How could you do it, Johnny?’
‘Give over, Mum, I didn’t pinch his boat. I borrered it for ’alf an hour, that’s all.’
‘It was stealing, and you could both have drowned …’
‘’Cos we wouldn’t have,’ he interrupted. ‘We can both swim.’
‘Annie couldn’t, with her arm in plaster.’
‘I can life-save, can’t I? I got a certificate from the baths years ago.’
‘Fat lot of good that’d have done. You were lucky, that’s all, so don’t you let all that praise about saving Annie go to your head, because it was a damn fool thing to do to take the boat like that. The pair of you could have bin sliced in half.’
The train steamed on towards London. Johnny thought how different this was to the way he had dreamed of returning home.
‘Another thing,’ his mother said, ‘I shall have to pay for the repairs to that boat you damaged and you can pay me back each week. You can do a newsround or something.’
‘How much will it be?’
‘I don’t know. You heard what he said, that he’d get an estimate. You should have thought about all that before you stole the thing.’
‘You keep going on about stealing the bloo— the boat, but I told you we were going to put it back. We borrered it.’
The set of Mrs Bookman’s mouth as she said, ‘You stole it Johnny, don’t split hairs with me,’ decided him to keep his thoughts to himself for the rest of the journey.
There was a bonus when they reached home, one he hadn’t thought of, for with his brothers both in the army, this time he really did have the bedroom to himself. In any case, he thought, Jim wouldn’t be coming back here to live now he was married to Doris, so he’d only be sharing with Ron eventually.
It was strange that he now wanted a bedroom to himself. He recalled the first few nights at the Dovers in what had seemed such a huge room. I ’spect you can get used to things, he thought as he unpacked his case.
‘Mum, can I have a box to put Jim and Ron’s stuff in?’ he called down the stairs.
His mother came up, looking very angry. ‘No you cannot,’ she said. ‘Jim and Ron are both coming back, please God, and their treasures will be waiting for them.’
‘But Mum, I can use the space until they do. And Jim’ll have his own place, won’t he, now he’s married?’
‘I said no and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Your things are still there waiting for you and theirs will be too. Leave them alone.’
The three boys had a shelf each for their personal belongings. Jim’s was the top one as he was the eldest, and originally the tallest; then came Ron’s, although from the age of thirteen he had shot up in height and now was bigger than his brother. Johnny’s was the lowest one, and was filled with model cars and books. He looked at the books now, after over two years away. They were mostly adventure stories and books about trains and racing-cars. He knew well enough not to try to argue with his mum when she was in such a stubborn mood, and with a great sigh he set about reorganizing what space he had.
‘Johnny, hurry up now, I’ve some bread and dripping here, then we’ll go round the school and get you fixed up to start tomorrow.’
Not even a day’s holiday from school, he grumbled to himself later that evening when his mum was ironing furiously, and looking very tight-lipped. She put the iron back on to the gas flame for a few seconds, then tested it by holding it up to her face, a practice that had always frightened Johnny. With a
shock he realized it still did, and then he understood a little more about his mother’s anxiety over what could have happened to him and Annie if they had got into difficulties in the river.
But we didn’t, and it’s all a lot of fuss over nothing, he thought. If Annie hadn’t panicked and stood up suddenly when she saw the other boat coming towards us, then she wouldn’t have gone overboard. We would have missed the other boat, because I saw it too. He admitted to himself that it was a close thing but they wouldn’t have collided. I would have avoided that, I know I would. He didn’t hold it against Annie for suddenly standing up. After all, she was more used to horses than boats, he thought, and he would probably do something just as daft and dangerous on a horse.
The return to his old school was an anticlimax. Everyone thought he had simply stopped being evacuated; a lot of the children had returned within months anyway. He no longer belonged to any of the old ‘gangs’, everything had changed, even the teachers. The only one left whom he knew was the old man they used to call Chubby-Chops because of his resemblance to someone on the films whose cheeks wobbled when he talked and smiled.
His class-teacher was a young woman – well that was OK by him. His previous teacher, Miss Carter, was a young woman and he’d got on all right with her. But this one was different. He sensed her dislike of him straight away, and knew he’d be for it if he didn’t watch his step. She had harsh fair hair, hard eyes that stared at you, and she was so skinny.
She picked on him within ten minutes of his arrival because, she said, he wasn’t paying attention. Shortly afterwards she moved him to a desk in the front row, ‘so I can keep my eyes on you.’ By mid-morning he hated her.
He walked home by himself, feeling very miserable. Everything was dowdy – he hadn’t remembered the dustiness of the streets, and he hadn’t allowed for his old mates who had returned a year and more ago to have formed other friendships. Why, he felt even more of an outsider than he had when he first went to Winchurch. Still, he consoled himself, there were the summer holidays to look forward to in a few weeks, though he didn’t know what he’d do if he had no friends to go around with and his mum was out at the factory all day.