“This is awesome, Katy! We’ve gone back in time! I mean, I’ve read about this sort of thing happening in my science fiction magazines – they call it a rip in time. The idea is that you pass through it either into the future or the past but I didn’t think it could happen in real life. Brilliant!”
Katy looked at him in total disbelief. “What do you mean ‘brilliant’? We’re stuck in the past! Mum will be worried sick! How on earth will we get back?”
Patrick sat up and rested his head in his hands, staring silently into space, clearly giving the matter some serious consideration. Finally he spoke up. “We’ve just got to go along with it, play our parts as evacuees until we can work out how to reverse whatever’s happened. It’ll be exciting! There’s a war on after all. I bet you’ll get an excellent mark for your project when you hand it in with all this first-hand knowledge you’re getting.”
Katy was speechless. She stared at her brother in complete disbelief. Further conversation was cut short by the voice of Mrs Graham calling up the stairs to them. “Katy! Patrick! Come downstairs. The twins are home – tea is on the table.”
Taking a deep breath, Katy pulled open the bedroom door and slowly walked downstairs. Patrick followed behind, whistling chirpily.
In the centre of the kitchen stood a large pine table, which had been covered with a white cloth and set for tea. At the table sat two twin boys who were about twelve years old. Both had thick, wavy, blonde hair, tanned faces smothered with freckles and small, round glasses. They wore white, hand-knitted V-necked cricket jumpers with shirts underneath. They both waved as Katy and Patrick entered the kitchen, introducing themselves as Frank and Harry.
Mrs Graham sat at one end of the table, pouring out cups of tea. At the other end sat Susie on a high stool, singing Humpty Dumpty loudly, happily entertaining the others. Frank, obligingly tumbling dramatically off his stool at the appropriate moment, made everyone burst into fits of laughter.
“That’s enough silliness, Frank. Susie, please be quiet. What will Katy and Patrick think of us? It’s like a zoo in here,” said Mrs Graham.
Susie stopped singing and sat sulkily, her bottom lip jutting out. Frank picked himself up off the floor, brushed himself down and sat back up at the table, grinning.
“There’s space here next to Susie for you, Katy. Patrick, you’re next to Harry,” instructed Mrs Graham, as she cut thick slices from a loaf of homemade brown bread.
“We’re having eggs from our chickens,” said Susie excitedly, picking up an egg and almost dropping it.
“Poppy laid this one. She’s my favourite. Mummy’s cutting soldiers for me to dip into my yoke. Do you want them too?”
Frank interrupted, “Mum has even got out the fruit cake in your honour. She’s been saving it for weeks.”
Katy looked at the table and her heart sank. This wasn’t the sort of food she was used to eating and she didn’t think she was going to like it. I’m going to starve here, she thought to herself as she looked at the brown bread and fruitcake.
The twins were used to the endless round of evacuees coming to stay and asked a hundred and one questions, some of which were tricky for Katy and Patrick to answer on the spot.
“What’s your story then?” asked Frank. “Every evacuee has one.”
Katy looked at Patrick, unsure of what to say. Katy was shocked to see Patrick winking back at her. He quickly threw himself into the role of 1940s schoolboy. Katy noticed that he’d even picked up the old-fashioned style of speech, saying things like, “Gosh! This cake is super!” and, “This homemade bread is spiffing!” At this point Katy almost choked on her food and needed thumping on the back several times by Harry.
Patrick didn’t seem stuck for something to say, as he launched into a fantastical tale of their recent past. “Our Dad is an admiral in the Royal Navy. Frightfully important. Involved in some hush-hush, top-secret operation. Mum disappeared rather mysteriously. She speaks several languages, including French and German. We think she’s working as an undercover spy and has been parachuted behind enemy lines to make contact with some important agents.”
Katy couldn’t help giggling at the thought of her librarian mum as a daring spy. She shot Patrick a warning look and gave him a swift kick under the table in an attempt to shut him up. Unstoppable, he launched into another tale, describing in elaborate detail his own daring escape from Paris, just before it fell to the Nazis and how he fled to freedom by crossing the channel in a rowing boat, whilst being pursued by the enemy. Katy caught the twins exchanging incredulous looks, so decided now was the time to butt in.
“Ignore Patrick, he’s got an over-active imagination. He’s well known for exaggeration. Our real story is not nearly so exciting. Our mum and dad are involved in some boring routine war work and thought it would be safer to have us out of the way for a while. So here we are.”
Luckily a knock at the back door stopped the twins from asking anymore tricky questions.
“Come in,” called out Mrs Graham, and in walked another young boy who was slightly older, aged around fourteen. He was tall, with jet-black hair and large, bright blue eyes. He was dressed in cricket whites like the twins and carrying a bat under his arm. He smiled at the group and leant over to tickle Susie, who, judging by her giggles and smiles, clearly adored him. Both Katy and Patrick instantly felt that they had seen him before – those twinkling, bright blue eyes were so familiar. Puzzled, they stared at him, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.
It all became clear when Mrs Graham said, “Sit down Charlie. Help yourself to some bread. Meet Katy and Patrick, our latest evacuees.” She turned to Katy with a smile on her face, “Charlie usually turns up just as I’m putting food on the table.”
Charlie laughed good-naturedly and pulled up a chair next to Susie, whilst helping himself to bread. “Hello, you two. You’ve landed on your feet at Willow Dene with Mrs Graham. She always puts on a good spread at teatime, even with rationing making things so difficult.”
“That’s enough, Charlie. We’re just lucky to have all this space. It means we can grow our own veg and keep a few animals. Most aren’t so fortunate.”
“Don’t forget the bees,” said Frank.
“Mum has got two hives at the bottom of the garden. The honey comes in very handy as there’s never enough sugar.”
“Like I said, you’ve landed on your feet here,” said Charlie.
As everyone helped themselves to more tea, the conversation around the table turned to the War and the whereabouts of Dr Graham.
“Read Daddy’s letter again, Mummy. Please,” pleaded Susie.
Mrs Graham sighed as she reached across to the mantelpiece above the fire, taking down what looked like a well-read and much-loved letter. She began to read it aloud, with the children joining in with their favourite bits.
“Love to all my precious children, be good and help your mother. Your loving father.”
“Right, you heard him,” said Mrs Graham, a sadness flitting momentarily across her face, before disappearing behind a brave smile. “Harry, you’re washing up. Katy and Patrick, you can dry. Everyone does their bit here.”
“Come on, Susie. I’ll read you a story,” said Charlie, picking up Susie and swinging her round and round till she squealed for him to stop.
* * * *
At half past seven that evening, Mrs Graham put down her knitting. “Come on, Charlie, off you go, anyone would think you haven’t got a home to go to. Tomorrow is a big day for Katy and Patrick; they’ll both be starting at their new schools.”
Patrick sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “I am rather tired you know. Train journeys always have that effect on me,” he said, with a sly glance at Katy.
Katy, however, felt rather alarmed by Mrs Graham’s comment. “You can’t mean we’ll be going to different schools in the morning?”
“Of course, dear. Patrick will be at St Joseph’s, with the twins and Charlie, and you will be at the sister school, St Hilda’s.�
��
“Don’t worry,” said Charlie. “I’ll call for you both in the morning at half past eight and we can all walk to school together. St Jo’s and St Hilda’s are on the same site, so you’ll be close to each other.”
Mrs Graham shooed Charlie out of the back door, then turned to Katy and Patrick. “You’ll both need a bath tonight. The twins will show you where everything’s kept and I’ve laid out nightclothes on your beds. I’ll be up with your new school uniforms soon.”
Reluctantly, Katy turned to make her way up the stairs. As she did so, she felt a small hand slip into her own and squeeze it tightly. She looked down and saw Susie, smiling up at her. “We can be sisters,” Susie whispered quietly to Katy.
“I’d like that,” replied Katy. “Come on; I’ll read you a story while Patrick is in the bath.”
Katy was touched. She’d often dreamt of having a little sister instead of an annoying little brother. Happily, she cuddled up with Susie to read a well-thumbed copy of Cinderella.
Going to bed in 1942 wasn’t straightforward. Instead of a long, lingering soak under a power shower, Katy and Patrick had to have a bath. This wouldn’t have been so bad if they had been allowed to fill it up to the brim with lots of hot water and bubbles but apparently this was forbidden. Frank had drawn a thick black line all around the bath at a height of five inches and had warned them sternly not to fill the bath above it.
“Is that all we can have?” said Katy to Patrick in shock, “it won’t even cover my knees!”
Patrick washed first, and then called Katy into the bathroom. “I’ve saved the water for you but it’s getting cold, so you’d better be quick.”
“No way!” screeched Katy, horrified. “I’m not using your dirty water.”
Just as she was pulling out the plug, Frank walked in and stopped her. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked shaking his head in disbelief and firmly putting the plug back in. “Warm water is a valuable resource – you can’t just waste it! Don’t you know that? Now hurry up, Susie needs to get in next.”
Katy locked the bathroom door and reluctantly climbed into the now tepid bath. As she suspected, the water didn’t even cover her knees and the carbolic soap smelled terrible too – just like tar! To top it all off, the bathroom felt cold and there didn’t appear to be any form of heating. After the quickest bath in the history of baths, she returned to her room to find Mrs Graham waiting, her arms full of an assortment of old clothing.
“Let’s try these on for size. You first, Patrick.”
Patrick had to wear short grey trousers with grey knee length socks, a white shirt with a school tie and a green, hand knitted jumper, all topped off with a green school cap.
Patrick tried on everything enthusiastically. “Thanks, Mrs Graham, this is great.”
Mrs Graham patted him affectionately on the head, ruffling his hair and smiling at him. Katy, on the other hand, shot him a scathing look.
“Your turn, Katy. Stand up and let’s see if this fits.”
Katy stared in absolute horror at the outfit Mrs Graham held up to her.
“You’ve got to be joking!” she exclaimed. “That’s my new uniform? I can’t wear that!”
Her new uniform had the same pea-green colour as her modern day one, but now consisted of a pleated, knee-length pinafore dress, accompanied by a white blouse with a large, round collar and knee length dark green socks. A straw boater with a green ribbon tied around it completed the look.
“Don’t be silly, Katy, it’s a lovely uniform and quite modern too. The green will suit your colouring. Besides, lots of children would be grateful for good, clean clothes like these.”
Patrick laughed and Katy stuck her tongue out at him. Mrs Graham tutted at them both.
“That’s you two sorted. Here are your nightclothes. Lights out in twenty minutes. I’ll be back to say goodnight shortly.”
Patrick seemed happy enough in a pair of old-fashioned looking blue and white striped pyjamas. Katy gingerly picked up a long, white, cotton nightie with capped sleeves. Hiding from Patrick behind the wardrobe door, she quickly pulled it on.
“I look like someone’s gran in this!” whined Katy miserably, as she looked in the mirror, longing for her usual fleecy pyjamas.
Patrick looked up from a pile of comics the twins had lent him and sniggered. “It’s not like anyone you know is going to see you. I don’t know why you’re bothered,” he replied.
Katy glowered at him and resentfully got into bed, picking up the copy of The Twins at St Clare’s by Enid Blyton that Mrs Graham had given her to read. It looked a bit childish but she might as well give it a go. If nothing else, it might give her an idea of what to expect at school in the morning. Katy opened the book and was touched to see Mrs Graham had written in the front:
To Katy, I hope you enjoy this and your time at Willow Dene. Best wishes, Mrs Graham.
Katy tried to concentrate but found it impossible. She still felt worried about the whole situation and she missed her mum and dad. She wasn’t surprised at missing her dad – he was always travelling for work and she was almost used to missing him now. But missing her mum surprised her somewhat, as all they seemed to do lately was argue. If she ever got back home she vowed she’d try harder to be a better daughter. Please don’t leave me stranded in 1942, thought Katy to herself.
Deep in thought, the next twenty minutes flew by and, in what seemed like seconds, Mrs Graham had returned to say goodnight. She leant over and kissed them both on the cheek, stopping to give Katy an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. At once, Katy felt tearful. It had been years since she’d had a goodnight kiss. She remembered when she was younger, both her mum and dad would come upstairs to tuck her in and say goodnight. She would lie in bed, listening to the sounds of them bustling around in the kitchen. Music from the radio and their muffled conversations would drift up the stairs. But since her dad had started travelling so much for work, things had changed.
Mrs Graham turned out the light as she left the room. Filled with dread and unable to stop worrying about what tomorrow held in store, Katy tried to get comfortable but even the bed felt different. There were no comfy quilts here but sheets tucked in tightly, with a scratchy blanket on top. Now the light was out, the room was plunged into darkness. Katy remembered learning about the blackout and special curtains in history lessons. It looked nothing like night-time at home, where all the streetlights meant it never became truly dark.
Patrick whispered through the darkness to Katy, “You OK? You seem a bit upset.”
“Well that’s hardly surprising, given the circumstances. I think ‘upset’ would be considered normal by most people. But then you’re not most people,” Katy huffed in annoyance.
Ignoring Katy’s temper, Patrick continued, “What do you think of the twins? How weird is it meeting the younger version of Charlie? It’s so strange – I love it! I wonder what’s going to happen next. I can’t wait to find out.”
Forgetting her annoyance, Katy found herself replying, “Well, the twins seem nice but I want to tell them that I’ve got a letter from them in the future and that they live in Filey.”
“Well don’t say anything yet,” urged Patrick. “They’ll just think you’ve lost the plot! We can’t prove anything – no one will believe our story. We can’t risk being sent away from Willow Dene. It’s our only link with our future.”
“I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right,” replied Katy sullenly. “We’ll just have to play along until we can figure this thing out. Do you agree?”
Silence.
“Patrick,” hissed Katy but no reply came.
Typical, thought Katy to herself. He’s fallen fast asleep, as if this sort of thing happens to him all the time! I bet I lie awake all night.
Yawning heavily, she closed her eyes and rolled onto her tummy, thoughts of what tomorrow might bring looming large.
Chapter 5
Old School
A strange noise woke Katy early the n
ext morning and for a few moments she panicked, unsure of where she was. Slowly, the events of the previous day came flooding back as she looked around the unfamiliar bedroom. Her stomach sank; it hadn’t just been a bad dream.
What on earth was that terrible noise? Katy quietly crept out of bed and tiptoed over to the window. Pulling the thick blackout curtains to one side, she peered nervously out. In the distance, at the bottom of the garden, she spied a hen house. Upon the roof stood a large cockerel, crowing loudly. It must have still been early as no sound came from anywhere else in the house. Looking at her watch, Katy saw it was still only five o’clock in the morning. Relieved, she crawled back under the covers, pulling them over her head. She lay there thinking of all that had happened since yesterday morning.
She must have fallen back to sleep as the next thing she knew, Susie was jumping up and down on her bed. “Wake up, Katy, breakfast is ready. Mummy says you need to hurry up.”
Rubbing her eyes, Katy sat up, stretched and then did a double take when she caught sight of Susie, who appeared to have been in the dressing-up box already. She wore what looked like one of her mum’s frilly nighties, with several long necklaces around her neck; her lips and cheeks were smeared with red lipstick. Over her shoulder hung a small, black, beaded handbag.
Katy suppressed a giggle and said, “Don’t you look lovely this morning, Susie. But aren’t you a bit overdressed for breakfast?”
Susie threw her a comical look, replying in a haughty tone, “Mummy says a lady must always look her best.”
Katy burst out laughing as she pulled herself out of bed, casting an eye over her uniform hanging up on the wardrobe door. “That’ll be hard for me in this outfit. It’s horrible.”
“I think it’s lovely,” sighed Susie, trying on the hat and doing a twirl. “I wish I could go to school with you.”
Looking over at Patrick’s empty bed, Katy began wondering where he was and why he hadn’t bothered to wake her up. “Have you seen Patrick this morning?”
Katy Parker and the House that Cried Page 5