by Joan Moules
‘Well, you know your mother, Anita. Listen, I’ve persuaded her to leave it until tomorrow, when we go to Winchurch and sort everything through. Meanwhile you must be hungry, so come downstairs and have some tea with us and let it simmer down a while. Come on, what do you say?’
‘All right, Dad.’ She found her voice was trembling with tears still. ‘I’ll just go and and clean up a bit.’ She brushed her hand across her eyes.
‘Good girl. Don’t be too long, will you?’
Annie had often suspected that if it came to a real crisis between her and her mother she would have her father’s backing. She often wished she could get to know him better, but she had been at home so little during her life, and then it was always her mother who was dominant. He had obviously intervened on her behalf now, with success. Well, she could play a waiting game. Once she was back with the Dovers, although her movements would probably, almost certainly be curtailed she could contact Johnny and make plans for when she left school. What sort of plans she didn’t yet know, but if she could get a job and earn some money, then she didn’t think her mother would enforce the law to make her live at home.
The atmosphere was not convivial, but her mother accepted the truce. Neither Johnny nor the ring were mentioned, although Annie saw her mother’s eyes look at her bare fingers. She was amazed to discover how hungry she was once she began eating. Guiltily, she thought she shouldn’t feel ravenous like this when she was so unhappy. Resolutely she pushed away her images of Johnny and what he might be doing at this minute. She wanted to be clear-headed now for the battle that, in spite of the current calmness, was still in progress.
After tea they listened in silence to the wireless. Mrs Evesham knitted steadily throughout, and Annie wished she too had something to prevent her hands from fidgeting.
The set was turned up for the nine o’clock news and Annie listened as they talked of Kasserine and the Mareth Line, strange sounding names to her. She watched various expressions flit across her father’s face as he spread a well-worn map across the table by the side of his chair, and study it intensely. The only sound apart from the newsreader’s voice was the even click of her mother’s knitting needles. As soon as the news bulletin was over, her father switched the set off. He glanced down at the map, then across to his daughter, and for a moment she thought he was going to discuss it with her, but he just smiled and settled back into his chair. Annie looked at her mother.
‘I’ll – get off to bed,’ she said.
‘Everything is as you left it,’ Mrs Evesham said, without a pause in her knitting.
Annie went upstairs.
She opened the drawer of the chest in her room, took out one of the nightdresses and thought how strange it was to be back in this bedroom tonight. If anyone had asked her this morning where she would be this evening, the last place she would have thought about was here. The idea gave her courage, for if this turn of events could happen so suddenly and unexpectedly, who knew what might happen in a few more days, or another week, or month?
‘Goodnight Johnny,’ she whispered, her hands clasped round the ring, back on her finger for the night.
The journey to Winchurch and the meeting with the Dovers were as distressing as Annie suspected they would be. But, back in her own room in Kerry Avenue that night, she consoled herself with the knowledge that she had won a reprieve. There had been much anger and wringing of hands between her mother and Mrs Dover and, as she had known would happen, she came in for her share of blame. ‘Lying to meet a boy …’
‘It is not entirely Anita’s fault.’ Mrs Dover actually stuck up for her. ‘Johnny Bookman is a persuasive boy, he has a certain …’ she seemed at a loss for the right word for a moment, then she said, ‘a certain way with him … almost a charm….’
Annie nearly laughed. She must remember this to tell Johnny. She imagined his reaction.
‘Poo, bloody poo,’ he’d probably say.
How stupid they all were, she thought many hours later when she was in bed, Johnny’s ring once more on her finger. Normally she took it off from round her neck, still on its chain, and laid it on the dressing-table ready for the morning, but tonight she wore it again, just to be sure.
The ring had not been mentioned again, either to her or to Mrs Dover. On the whole she had got off lightly, she thought, pushing away the idea that it was only because her mother didn’t want to be bothered with her at home that she had been allowed back here to Winchurch. The feelings of being unwanted hurt her, perhaps even more now that she was older, but she was grateful not to have been sent anywhere else. If that had happened she could have been too far away for the weekly trips.
She thought over some of the things that had been said. Tighter restrictions; that wasn’t so good. She would have to work out a really sound plan now to be able to escape on Saturday. She would need proof to show Mrs Dover where she was going, and if she was to get to London to meet Johnny she would have to think of something.
She thought of it on the way to school on Monday morning. Janet was her answer, surely. They were good friends, and if Janet would help her then the meetings could continue until she left school and went to London to work. It would mean confiding in Janet of course, but that couldn’t be helped. She would have to do it.
Not wishing to waste time she asked Janet at playtime. ‘Can I talk to you privately, Janet?’ she said, ‘it’s rather important.’
‘Sure, Annie.’ They all called her Annie at school now since Johnny had started the fashion.
She told Janet about the weekend and its result. ‘So you see, Janet, I need to go on Saturday because I promised. And I want to. But Johnny will be terribly worried if I don’t turn up. He’ll probably ring through to the Dovers to try and talk to me and I’m sure they won’t let him. My mother gave them such a roasting I’m surprised they kept me on, really I am.’
‘I’ll help you,’ Janet said. ‘I’d love to. We must be very careful though. We’ll draw up a plan for each week. It mustn’t be the same thing every time because that will arouse their suspicion.’
‘Janet, you are a sport. And my very best friend.’
It was several days before the girls had worked out what they were going to do. Then Annie wrote to Johnny to tell him. Janet and Annie were going to the railway station together – in fact Janet was even going to call for Annie. She would travel two stations, to Bushton, have a look round the shops and then return home, but Annie would stay on the train to meet Johnny and everything would be as normal.
Of course, she wrote, we shall have to vary this a bit because Janet won’t want to go into Bushton every week, and this in itself will arouse suspicion. But for this week I will be there an hour later than usual because we think it unwise to leave too early.
On Friday night Mrs Evesham telephoned. That was unusual, and it made Annie realize even more that she would need to be very careful and devious if they were not to be found out. The thought of being discovered and stopped appalled her. Johnny might just shrug his shoulders and not bother any more. She didn’t think he would, but he might.…
He was waiting by the ticket-barrier when she arrived on Saturday.
‘Gosh, Annie, am I glad to see you. Was it awful? She didn’t hurt you, did she?’
‘No, not physically anyway. But it was dreadful bad luck, wasn’t it, bumping into them like that?’ He nodded his head vigorously. ‘How about you, Johnny, how did you get on?’
‘Bit of a barney with me mum, but we soon sorted it out. I didn’t tell her where I’d been or who I was with, of course.’
‘Johnny,’ she touched his arm, ‘would your mum mind so much, do you think? I mean, if I can get a job in London when I leave school in a few weeks it will be easier if we can meet openly, won’t it?’
‘I suppose so, Annie, but, oh heck, I don’t know. See, I’m going to marry you some day – that is if you’ll have me of course, and, well I don’t think grown-ups understand that sort of thing.’
‘Joh
nny.’ She stopped so suddenly he was still walking on, and she ran to catch him up. ‘Was that a – a proposal, Johnny?’
‘Now don’t go all funny on me, Annie. I guess it was, really. I don’t want any other girl but you, but it’ll be years ’n’ years before we can do anything about it.’
‘I know,’ she said, ‘and you’re absolutely right, we have to be practical. But I – I accept Johnny. I’ll marry you when we’re older and are earning some money. I’ve got some savings too.’
‘Well, we can talk about it in a few years’ time, when the war’s over and everything. I’ve been thinking about you all week, Annie. Come on, we’ll get a fizzy drink. Bet he won’t give us cream horns again this week.’ Their fingers touched as they both ran down the road to the café.
Their arrangements for meeting worked well, but they now varied the venue more. Because Johnny was a freer agent and could leave as early as he needed to, he sometimes travelled further from London now to meet her. Janet stuck to her part of the bargain with Annie and always provided an excuse for her to be gone all day. This didn’t easily fool Mrs Dover, who asked many searching questions of Annie and, when she had the opportunity, of Janet too. But as she did not know Janet’s parents, and as the girl refused all invitations to Kerry Avenue, this was more difficult, Annie’s plan couldn’t be checked on.
Annie had bought a riding-hat and jodhpurs in Bushton, carefully requesting the money from her parents and making a great point of the number of times she rode Janet’s sister’s horse, Flash, and borrowed her gear. She kept these at Janet’s house, their supposed riding activities provided the best excuse for being out all day, and sometimes Annie wished she really was going riding with Janet. I’ll teach Johnny to ride when we are married, she thought.
She dreamed of her wedding to Johnny one day in the future, maybe when I’m nineteen or twenty, she thought, and she hugged the knowledge of his love to herself. Not that he had actually said: ‘I love you, Annie,’ but then she didn’t expect him to. He had asked her to marry him, and she relived that moment in the deserted street often, and treasured the memory.
Janet sometimes asked what they did all day. ‘Can’t be much fun being out with a boy like Johnny,’ she said once. ‘I mean, he’s not exactly tall, dark and handsome, is he?’
‘I don’t like tall, dark, handsome men,’ Annie replied, without any knowledge of men at all, ‘and there’s much more to Johnny than you would imagine from his appearance. He’s very quick-witted, tremendous fun, ever so kind. Johnny wouldn’t hurt a fly, however he carries on. And he doesn’t swear now – well, only occasionally when he’s sort of thrown off balance.’
On the few occasions when Annie did actually go riding she enjoyed it tremendously, and one Sunday a few weeks later the girls took a packed lunch and set off with the horses.
After an exhilarating gallop over the moor and a leisurely lunch, they quietly made their way home. They were in the lane leading back to Winchurch when a car raced past. Startled, both horses became skittish, but the girls calmed them and went on. Within a few seconds there was another car, then came one at normal speed, which did slow down, then, as both girls acknowledged the courtesy, another car rushed past them and Flash reared, unseating Annie and throwing her into the ditch.
She lay there stunned for several seconds, then someone leapt in and crouched down beside her. She heard Janet’s voice faintly in the distance, then a man said, ‘We’ll have you out of there in a moment. Can you move your limbs?’ His hand reached for the back of her neck, and gently felt her all over. ‘Nothing seems to be broken so give me your hands and I’ll help you up.’
Annie’s first concern was for Flash, but Janet, looking pale and shaken, and holding her horse’s reins said she would go after him now she knew Annie wasn’t badly injured and needing an ambulance. Sitting on the verge and feeling bruised and battered but relieved to be in one piece, Annie said, ‘It was those cars, they must have been having a race or something. They whizzed by. Flash is a docile and steady horse usually, very placid. I do hope he’s all right.’
‘Your friend has gone after him. I’m Doctor Morgan from Bushton. Once I have checked you over properly I’ll contact the police; those madmen were escaping from something. They tore past me, but when I reached you your animals were fine, then suddenly the third car came up behind. I suspect he was one of them. I suddenly saw him in my mirror and looked back to see you go into the ditch. Now, do you think you can make it to the car or would you like me to carry you over?’
‘I can make it,’ she said. ‘It’s so kind of you. Are you on your way to a patient, though?’
‘No. I’ve just left one, so there’s no urgency. I’ll take you home first.’
‘But Flash—’
‘I’ll go and look for your friend once you are safely back.’
She directed him to Janet’s house. As they approached they saw Janet leading both horses through the gate leading into the field. Tears ran down Annie’s cheeks with the relief of knowing the horse was unhurt and back in his field. Dr. Morgan took her home to Kerry Avenue, where, with Mrs Dover as chaperon, he examined her in the privacy of her bedroom. She was feeling pretty tender and sore by then, but the doctor said she had bruised her ribs and would suffer pain from this for several weeks, but that everything was in place and no lasting damage had occurred. He telephoned the police station from the Dovers’ house before accepting a cup of tea and going on his way.
The accident did have one good point because it convinced her parents and the Dovers that she really did go riding with Janet. She felt guilty about her deceit, but if it was a question of seeing Johnny or not seeing Johnny, then there was no choice for her.
On the Saturday she went off to meet him as usual, and this time a visit to Janet’s cousin was again her excuse for being away all day. She felt very stiff although she pretended she wasn’t.
Johnny was filled with concern. She couldn’t hide her pain from him, having winced when he greeted her with a hug.
‘I hope they catch those bloody crooks,’ he said, ‘they could have maimed you for life or even killed you. God, Annie, it don’t bear thinking about. If the horse had gone in the ditch with you he would have crushed you—’
‘But he didn’t, Johnny, and, apart from some aches and pains for a few weeks I’m fighting fit. And I have already started looking round for a job for when I leave school. If I can’t find something in Winchurch I’ll try Bushton. Come on now, tell me all your news. How’s your mum and dad? Any news from your brothers? And what are we going to do today?’
Gently he put his hand up to her hair and, with infinite tenderness, stroked it rhythmically, ‘Whatever you want to. But no running and jumping, that I forbid today.’
‘Poo, bloody poo,’ she answered, and although it hurt her like mad, she was glad to see the worry disappear from his face as they both rocked with laughter.
CHAPTER 10
1943
Johnny had settled into a routine again after a few months back at his London school. Gradually he infiltrated the groups in his class and was accepted.
There was a bit of bawdy teasing when word got around that he was seeing a girl at the weekends, and he countered this with a few saucy jokes and an attitude that they were simply jealous because he seemed to have what they wanted to try. In any case none of them knew Annie and they weren’t even sure if it was true.
Once he did get involved in a fight, which started when the remarks became really dirty. Johnny had been brought up to respect women and old people and beneath his banter this was something he did. Although smaller than the other boy, Johnny was nimble and after jigging around him and not landing any punches for several minutes he ducked smartly beneath a below-the-belt one that he saw coming, with the result that the other boy shot forward on to the ground. There were cheers and jeers as he scrambled to his feet, and mopped a bleeding lower lip with a rather grubby handkerchief.
The school bell clanged then
and an almost unscathed Johnny was slapped heartily on the back as they made their way inside the school.
The war was nearly four years old and he knew he would have to wait another three or four before he could officially get into the fray, if it lasted that long. The allies were making headway in North Africa and every night the entire family were quiet to listen to the news and wonder about Jim and Ron.
There had been more bombing in London during the early months of the the year but not on the scale of the blitz. One of the casualties in January was a junior school in Catford where he learned that two of their cousins had been killed.
‘Poor Jill,’ Mrs Bookman said, rubbing at her already red-rimmed eyes, ‘and their father over there somewhere fighting for peace. It don’t bear thinking about.’
She came into Johnny’s room when he was getting ready for bed that night.
‘Here’s yer clean socks fer tomorrer, son,’ she said, then leaned over and kissed him – something she had stopped doing at his request when he was about seven. Remembering his aunt and cousins, he didn’t brush her away.
Easter wasn’t until almost the end of April that year and Johnny became impatient to earn some real money. He left school and went to work in the same factory as his mother.
‘But she’s making bits for planes and I’m sweeping up the store,’ he told Annie with a wry grin. He gave half his wages to his mother and spent the rest taking Annie out. Mrs Bookman continued to buy his clothes and the situation suited him well.
Annie too left school at Easter, and obtained a job in Bushton, serving in a music shop. She discussed the matter of staying on with the Dovers and paying for her lodgings rather than trying to find herself a place in Bushton. She knew that could prove difficult and she also reasoned that her parents would probably allow her to remain at a place they knew and approved of. Mrs Dover had grown fond of the girl and even her husband agreed that Anita Evesham on her own was no bother.