by Tony Bradman
“Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Lady Musgrave. “Now, I wonder if there’s anything on the wireless for you to listen to, Betty…”
But there wasn’t – it was all government announcements and news bulletins. The government wanted everyone to keep calm, but that wasn’t likely to happen, was it? So far the only grown-up I’d met who wasn’t panicking in one way or another was Lady Musgrave. But even she looked upset when we listened to one news report. The Germans were bombing cities in Poland and lots of people were being killed.
“How terrible,” Lady Musgrave said quietly, turning off the wireless.
But it was too late. All I could think of was bombs falling on a city.
And in my mind that city was London.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I felt better later. At six o’clock we had tea, although Lady Musgrave called it ‘supper’. There were sandwiches and a cake that Hilda had baked, and somehow I found a bit more room in my tummy. We didn’t listen to the wireless, thank goodness. Lady Musgrave and I sat and talked about all sorts of things, but not the war. Then at about eight o’clock I said I was tired and that I wanted to go upstairs to bed.
Of course what I really wanted was to find out if Smoky was all right. I’d left the window in my room open, so I hoped he might be waiting for me. I’d even sneaked some beef and cake up for him, and I’d realized there was plenty of water in the tap for him too. But he wasn’t there, and when I looked out into the garden I couldn’t see him anywhere. It was starting to get dark, and the shadows of the trees and bushes were creeping across the grass. The garden seemed like a pretty scary place.
“Come on, Smoky, where are you?” I whispered. I didn’t dare call him any louder, but somehow I thought he might hear me. The minutes ticked past, and he didn’t appear, so after a while I decided to give up looking. As Mum always said, a watched pot never boils. I had to keep myself occupied, though, so I took a book from the shelves and lay down on the bed to have a read.
I like books. Reading was one of the best things we did at school, and Miss Harrison often let me take a book home. I’d seen this one before, too. It was called The Railway Children, and Miss Harrison had read us some of it last year. But I couldn’t keep my mind on it. I was worried about Smoky – I’d been wondering if foxes might actually be tougher than cats and dogs, even London ones.
I was worried about Mum and Dad as well. Hearing that all those Polish cities had been badly bombed had rattled me. If the Germans could do it to Poland, then they could probably do it to Bermondsey too. I was still a bit cross with Mum and Dad, but it was getting harder to keep it up. What if I’d been wrong? What if they’d decided not to go along with what the government had said about pets?
Just then, Smoky appeared at the window with a loud MIAOW! and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Shush!” I hissed, grabbing him. “Where have you been?”
I put him on the end of my bed and he started licking his paws. He stopped from time to time to stare at me, and I have to say he looked relaxed. He obviously hadn’t been scared by anything in the garden, so I thought I could relax too.
I left the window open that night so he could get out when he wanted to, and when I woke up in the morning he was gone again. The sun was shining, but Lady Musgrave and Hilda were gloomy at breakfast. I knew they’d been listening to the wireless – I could hear the announcer’s posh voice droning away as I’d come down the stairs. Lady Musgrave turned it off as soon as I went into the dining room.
Breakfast was as good as lunch the day before. There were all sorts of things in silver dishes on the sideboard – bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, tomatoes, smoked fish with rice – I think it was called kedgeree. Hilda kept giving me seconds.
I was still eating when there was a knock on the front door. It was Miss Harrison! She’d borrowed a bike from someone in the village and come out to see me. Lady Musgrave asked her to sit at the dining table and Hilda made her a cup of tea.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t manage to get here yesterday, Betty,” said Miss Harrison. “But I thought you’d be all right, and there was just so much we had to do.”
Apparently a lot of my schoolmates were unhappy or homesick or had been badly behaved, at least according to the families they were staying with. Poor Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison had spent most of the day going round sorting things out.
“But I do have some good news,” said Miss Harrison. “The vicar has very kindly allowed us to use the church hall for teaching, and we plan to start tomorrow. We won’t be able to fit everyone in at once, so we’ll just have to do it in shifts…”
Most of my schoolmates would have thought that was really bad news, but I was glad to hear it. I’d been wondering whether we’d be having lessons. I liked Lady Musgrave a lot, and Hilda was nice too, once you got past the doom and gloom. But I could see I’d soon get bored if I had to stay in the house every day. Besides, I’d always enjoyed going to school, hard as that might be to believe! Although how long we’d be staying in Devon and going to school here seemed to be anybody’s guess.
The rest of Sunday passed slowly after Miss Harrison went. The best part was helping Hilda bake a cake, but that was soon over. Lady Musgrave asked if I wanted to do some gardening with her. That might have been fun, but I was too busy keeping an eye out for Smoky to enjoy it. I didn’t want Lady Musgrave to see him, and luckily he didn’t appear.
He did come back to my room later, and he ate the food I’d sneaked up for him. But he was gone again in the morning. At breakfast, Arthur came up to the house to speak to Lady Musgrave. He didn’t look happy.
“Lost another couple of chicks last night, your Ladyship,” he muttered. “Not sure it’s a fox, either. Found some fur on the wire, but it were black.”
Black fur? My blood froze as a terrible thought occurred to me.
What if it was Smoky who was taking Arthur’s chicks?
CHAPTER TWELVE
After breakfast, Lady Musgrave said Arthur would drive me to the village in her car. I should have been excited at the prospect, I suppose. I mean, if anybody had told me a few days before that I’d be on my way to school in a chauffeur-driven car I’d have thought they were barmy.
But I was far too worried to enjoy the ride. I didn’t want to spend the day away from Lady Musgrave’s house. If I was right about Smoky, then he was in terrible danger. Arthur might be waiting for him with his gun next time Smoky decided he fancied a nice meal of young chick. I hated the idea of what that gun might do to my lovely cat. I hated even more the idea that it would be my fault.
After all, Smoky was only doing what came naturally. I was the one who had smuggled him to the country. But what if I’d been right about Mum and Dad? Maybe they had been planning to do what the government wanted. To be honest, I didn’t know what to think any more. Dreadful thoughts filled my mind – Mr Hitler, bombs, Arthur’s gun, Mum and Dad and Smoky getting hurt – and I groaned.
“You all right in the back there?” said Arthur, glancing over his shoulder.
“Er… I’m fine,” I squeaked. I wasn’t, but then what else could I say? Please don’t shoot my cat, Arthur – he’s nice really, even if he IS eating your chicks…
The funny thing is that I almost did say it. I couldn’t get the words out, though. Arthur dropped me off in the village and I watched him drive away. He was coming to collect me later, but not till four o’clock – Miss Harrison had said they were going to try and make it a normal school day. But how could it be normal? I’d be doing my lessons while Arthur probably went hunting for Smoky with his gun…
It was chaos in the church hall. Only about half the kids actually turned up, and most were late. There were no blackboards or desks, so we had to sit on the floor, and we didn’t have any books to work from, or exercise books or pencils to write with. The classes were all mixed up, lots of the kids were badly behaved, and the teachers didn’t seem able to cope. Mr Jenner got more and more grumpy.
We d
id our times tables for a while, everyone saying them together. We did some singing too – Miss Harrison played the old out-of-tune piano that stood at one end of the hall. Usually I like singing, especially with Miss Harrison, but I barely opened my mouth. I sat in a corner behind everyone else, keeping my head down, worrying myself sick about Smoky, desperately trying to work out what I should do.
I could keep him shut up in my room, I thought, so long as he made it through today, that is. But I realized that was a stupid plan. Smoky would hate being shut indoors and he’d probably make so much noise Hilda or Lady Musgrave would hear him. I thought briefly of running away with Smoky – but where would we go? He might be able to survive in the country, but I wasn’t sure I could.
No, it was beginning to look as if there was only one thing I could do. I would have to confess and beg for mercy – a bit for me, and a lot more for Smoky. And there was only one person I could confess to – Miss Harrison.
I waited until dinner time. Those snooty-looking ladies from our first night turned up with more sandwiches and cake and squash, and said they’d brought us ‘lunch’. Everyone piled in, of course, just like before. Once we’d eaten – it all vanished even more quickly this time – Mr Jenner said we could go and play in the churchyard. But I hung back – I wanted to speak to Miss Harrison when nobody else was around.
“Could I have a word, Miss?” I said eventually. “I need to tell you something.”
“Of course you can, Betty!” she said, looking concerned. “I’m here to help.”
I’d decided I was going to keep it short, be honest, and stay calm. So I took a deep breath, opened my mouth – and burst into tears. I howled and sobbed, and then the whole story came pouring out. A lot of other stuff came pouring out with it, all my worries about Mum and Dad and the war and them getting bombed. I stopped in the end, and Miss Harrison – the wonderful Miss Harrison – gave me a hug.
“Oh, Betty,” she said, shaking her head, but with a smile. “You brought your cat all the way from London? In that suitcase of yours? I’m amazed he’s still alive!”
“He might not be soon,” I said. “I’m worried that Arthur… that he’ll…”
“Well, let’s make sure that Arthur doesn’t, all right?” said Miss Harrison.
I nodded, and blew my nose in Miss Harrison’s lacy handkerchief. She went off to talk to Mr Jenner, who frowned and spluttered, and then the two snooty-looking ladies joined in the conversation. They all kept turning to look at me, so the kids in the hall quickly realized something was going on and all sorts of whispering and pointing began. I took no notice, and eventually Miss Harrison came back.
“We’re in luck, Betty!” she said. “We’re getting a lift to Lady Musgrave’s!”
I only hoped we would get there in time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was one of the snooty-looking ladies who gave us a lift, but it turned out she wasn’t quite as snooty as I’d thought. In fact she seemed very nice, and she drove us back to the house as quickly as she could. It still wasn’t quick enough for me, though. The journey seemed to take ages. At one point we even got stuck behind a horse-drawn cart full of hay. It blocked the road, but we managed to get round it at last.
Hilda let us in and went to fetch Lady Musgrave from the garden. “This is rather a surprise, Betty,” said Lady Musgrave when she came in. “Is something wrong?”
“We have to save Smoky!” I wailed before Miss Harrison could speak. Then I burst into tears for the second time that day. It was daft, but I couldn’t help myself.
Miss Harrison explained everything, and I have to say Lady Musgrave took it all pretty well. I’d been expecting her to tell Miss Harrison to take me away and never bring me back, but she didn’t. She actually smiled instead. “Well, Betty, you clearly have hidden depths,” she said. “And don’t worry, I’m sure we can sort this out. Hilda, would you please go and tell Arthur that I’d like to have a word with him?”
Arthur listened to Lady Musgrave and didn’t seem very impressed. “A cat, you say?” he muttered with a scowl. “Well, I don’t care what it is. If the bloomin’ creature is after my chicks, then it’s fair game. If I catch it round my coop, I’ll…”
“You won’t do anything, Arthur,” snapped Hilda. “Can’t you see how upset the poor child is?” She pointed at me just as I blew my nose into Miss Harrison’s lacy hanky. “Anyway, that ancient gun of yours would probably blow up if you fired it!”
“But what about my chicks?” said Arthur. “I reckon I’ve lost half a dozen.”
“There’s no point in crying over spilt milk now, is there, Arthur?” said Lady Musgrave. “I’m certain Betty will keep an eye on her cat from now on.”
“Oh, I promise I will! I’ll make sure he doesn’t get up to any more mischief!” I didn’t know if I’d be able to, but it seemed the right thing to say.
“Good, that’s all settled,” said Lady Musgrave. “You can relax, Betty.”
After that, Lady Musgrave asked Hilda to make some tea. Hilda served it to us with cake in the room with the wireless, although Lady Musgrave didn’t turn it on. Apparently the news was worse than ever, with more bombing in Poland. After a while the lady who had driven us from the village said she had to go. But Miss Harrison said she could stay longer.
Pretty soon she and Lady Musgrave were getting along like a house on fire. Lady Musgrave asked lots of questions about the evacuation, and how it had all gone.
“Getting the children here was the easy part,” said Miss Harrison. “Keeping up their schooling is going to be a lot more difficult. The church hall is just too small.”
Suddenly I had a brainwave. “There’s plenty of room here,” I said. “I bet you could fit everyone in, Florence, and you did say you wanted to feel more… useful…”
I was slowing down because they were giving me strange looks. Miss Harrison seemed a bit shocked, but Lady Musgrave’s expression was more thoughtful.
“Why, Betty!” said Miss Harrison. “You shouldn’t use Lady Musgrave’s Christian name. It’s not really your place to make that kind of suggestion, either.”
“It’s perfectly all right, I told Betty she could call me Florence,” said Lady Musgrave, smiling at me. “And actually, I rather like her suggestion…”
Then Lady Musgrave and Miss Harrison talked for what felt like ages. Later, Arthur drove Miss Harrison back to the village, and I went searching for Smoky. It didn’t take long to find him in the garden – he came as soon as I called, and I took him into the kitchen. Hilda had a bowl of scraps ready and waiting.
“Look at that!” she said as he licked the bowl clean. “Your cat likes his food almost as much as you. So you can be miserable together when they start rationing.”
Smoky was soon treating Lady Musgrave’s house like it was his second home. He strolled round the rooms, examining everything and having a good sniff. Then he curled up for a sleep on the settee next to Lady Musgrave herself. I went to shoo him off – Mum doesn’t like him to sit on the furniture, and I thought Lady Musgrave might feel the same. But she stroked him till he was purring loudly.
“Don’t worry, Betty,” she said. “I like cats. We used to have one when the children were small, and I know how fond they were of him. I’m sure they would have been very cross with me if I’d agreed to have him put down for no reason. But I would never have done that, and I have a feeling your parents wouldn’t either…”
We looked at each other, and I could feel myself blushing. I’d told Miss Harrison and Lady Musgrave everything. So they knew I hadn’t written to Mum and Dad because I’d been cross with them. I wasn’t cross now, about Smoky or even being sent away. Mum and Dad had only been trying to protect me, just like I’d been trying to protect Smoky. Lady Musgrave – Florence – was probably right, anyway.
None of it mattered any more. The truth was that I missed my Mum and Dad.
So that night, before I went to bed, I wrote them a long letter. I thought I’d better own up in i
t to everything I’d done. ‘Dear Mum and Dad, how are you? I’m fine. You might have been wondering where Smoky has been over the last few days…’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I got away with it, thank goodness. Mum wrote me a long letter back, and she was so pleased to hear from me she forgot to tell me off. She did say they’d wondered where Smoky had got to. I’d explained in my letter why I’d taken him with me, and Mum had said they knew other people were having their pets put down. But she’d also said they would never have done such a thing. They knew how much I loved him.
So everything was fine. Now all I had to do was get used to being evacuated, and that should have been dead easy. I had my own room, an inside toilet, loads of lovely grub. I liked Lady Musgrave and Hilda, and even Arthur stopped being so grumpy once he’d sorted out the wire on the chicken coop and made it a lot stronger. I caught him giving Smoky the evil eye every so often, but Smoky wasn’t bothered.
Things soon got quite lively at Lady Musgrave’s house too. She loved my idea about using part of the house as a school for evacuated kids, and it was up and running before the end of the week. Some of the empty rooms were turned into classrooms, and Lady Musgrave even organized a coach to bring the kids in every day. Mr Jenner and Miss Harrison were so grateful, and soon the lessons were almost like normal.
But all I wanted was to go home. I wrote to Mum and Dad a lot over the next few weeks, and every time I got a letter back from them I felt more homesick. I wasn’t the only one. Most of the kids felt the same, although some said they didn’t miss their parents. But then I suppose not everyone gets on with their parents, and maybe the people who’d taken those kids in were nicer, and had nicer houses.
After a month or so I was dead miserable. But luckily, Mr Hitler came to my rescue. He wasn’t doing much. He had conquered Poland by the end of September, and after that things went very quiet. Mr Hitler certainly didn’t send his planes to bomb London, or anywhere else in Britain, either. So a lot of parents said the evacuation had been a waste of time, and wanted their kids back.