by Megan Rix
Afterwards, in the relative safety of the narrow ventilation access tunnel, Misty licked her two tiny newborn pups clean. Like all puppies, they’d been born blind and deaf and toothless. They made mewling sounds as they pressed themselves close to their mother to keep warm.
Misty made a sound she’d never made before as she nuzzled her pups. It was a low, steady, happy growl of pure love. Almost a hum.
Hers was the first smell the pups recognized. It was the smell of love and warmth and food and safety. Outside the sirens wailed and the bombs dropped, but inside the tunnel the young puppies were oblivious to it all, snuggled up against their mum’s side.
Three hours later Jack, Amy and their parents walked to the Underground.
Wood Green station stood proudly at the busy junction of Lordship Lane and the High Street. It was only eight years old and there’d been a grand opening ceremony for it in 1932 that they’d all gone to. The front of the station was curved and it had two ventilation towers to the left and right.
Despite almost everyone getting no sleep the night before, the station was surprisingly busy when Jack and his family arrived. The elderly man selling newspapers was doing a roaring trade.
‘Read all about it! Read all about it!’ he shouted, holding out newspapers and taking money.
Chaos as London is struck by Hitler’s bombs! was written on the newspaper board.
‘We’ll never let Hitler win,’ people around Jack said, although everyone agreed they wouldn’t want a repeat of the night before.
Jack wished he didn’t have to leave before they’d found Misty, but he didn’t have a choice.
They went into the curved ticket hall and down the escalator to the platforms below.
‘I’ll keep looking for her when you’ve gone,’ Amy promised him. ‘I won’t give up until I find her.’
Jack gave a tired smile. ‘I know you won’t,’ he said.
‘Write when you can,’ said Mrs Dolan as she hugged him to her.
‘There might not be much time,’ he warned her as she blew her nose on a tear-sodden handkerchief.
His father shook his hand. ‘Be well, son and make sure you change your socks regularly. Trench foot was a terrible blight in the Great War.’
‘I will, Dad.’
‘Let me know as soon as you find her,’ Jack made Amy promise him, once again, as he boarded the Tube. ‘Tell me as soon as you hear anything at all.’
‘I will.’
Jack gave her his treasured black-and-white photograph of Misty.
‘This should help.’
Amy took it from him, knowing that he’d intended to take the photograph with him to basic training camp and on to wherever he was sent next.
‘I don’t need it to remember Misty,’ he said. ‘I could never forget her. And Mr Ward said it might be helpful in the search for her.’
The Tube train pulled out and Amy waved until it had gone, knowing that Jack probably couldn’t see her, but not wanting to let a single tear slip down her face until the train had left the station.
If only she’d known just how close Misty was to them at that moment: she was just a few feet away, hidden from view in the narrow tunnel with her two newborn pups.
Misty heard the voices of people wafting through the walls of the station. Some voices even sounded familiar to her, but she was too preoccupied with her puppies to go and investigate. They were the most important thing to her now and she would do anything for them.
The pain in her back and leg from being hit by the car had grown much worse, but the puppies’ needs came first. Misty fed her pups, cleaned them and then slept.
When she awoke later, she was ravenously hungry. Hungrier than she’d ever been in her life. She needed to eat, but she couldn’t leave the puppies for any length of time as they were totally dependent on her for everything. She sniffed the station air and her sensitive nose caught the smell of food. It was a strange mixture, some of which she’d tasted: bread and eggs, bacon fat, lard; and some of which she’d never smelt before, but knew was definitely food. And it was close. Her stomach rumbled. She knew she desperately needed to eat to regain her strength if she were to be able to feed her pups.
Misty crawled out of the ventilation tunnel leaving the two pups sleeping and let her nose lead her to a small yard at the back of the station where the pig bins were kept. She’d found the source of the smell.
To the station staff’s noses the pig bins smelt awful, so they put them round the back of the station with an arrow directing people to their new spot – downwind. Flies loved the smell coming from the pig bins and swarms of bluebottles buzzed round them, but that didn’t put Misty off. To her sensitive nose the smell of the food was droolingly overpowering.
The bins had lids on them and it was impossible for Misty to reach them without standing up on her hind legs. But when she tried she yelped in pain as her injured leg gave way. Suddenly she crouched in fear as a hand reached out from above her and removed the lids for her. Before she had time to run away the bin itself was on the ground, its contents spilling out, and the hand was gone and Misty was eating and eating and eating – a bit of pie, some cake, bread, bacon, chicken, half a sausage. She gulped down the food as fast as she could, not even chewing it, until her belly was full to bursting.
Then she went back to her pups and the bluebottles went back to buzzing round the bins.
Once she’d gone, nineteen-year-old Daniel came back out of the shadows. His meals came from the pig bins too. But unlike Misty Daniel always made sure to put the lids back on and tried to get to the food as soon as possible after it was thrown away so it wasn’t too spoilt.
‘Hello, puss,’ he said to the one-eared cat he found watching him from a ledge. He stretched out a hand, but Sheba ran away after Misty before he could stroke her.
Daniel had lived in the station long enough to know how to be mostly invisible to the staff, although he couldn’t have said exactly how long he’d been there. The concept of time seemed to have become lost to him ever since he’d been hiding in the station tunnels, which had become his home. Now each day drifted foggily into the next one with his only imperative being to find food when he needed to, and to remain hidden.
Now Misty had had her fill, Daniel checked each of the bins and helped himself to a half-eaten loaf of rock-hard stale bread from the staff canteen and some cake that was a bit soggy because it had been next to some cabbage leaves, but was otherwise fine.
Daniel took his makeshift meal back to the small, dusty, disused room he’d claimed as his own. There had been plans to use this part of the station as offices and the room still had a table and an office chair in it, along with a telephone that was disconnected. Daniel had added sacking to the ground to sleep on and made it his home.
The electric light didn’t work, but that was fine by Daniel. He liked the darkness – it made him feel safer. In the dark he couldn’t be seen as he had been in France, seen and shot at by the German soldiers.
Once he’d been so eager to play his part in the war effort and help lead England to victory. Now that time seemed like another lifetime ago and all he wanted to do was forget. Only he couldn’t. The terrible memories were always there, haunting him.
Daniel pulled off chunks of the bread and ate them. The rats would finish whatever he didn’t eat. He only ever took meat if he was sure it hadn’t been in the pig bin for very long. A stomach upset after eating leftover chicken had taught him that it just wasn’t worth it.
Sometimes people walked past the room, but not often; there was no reason for anyone to come inside. Nevertheless he always ducked into the shadows and kept very still when he heard t
he sound of footsteps.
His hair had grown long during the months he’d been down there, and his face was grubby with the dirt that had built up from not washing properly. Most people would not have recognized him as the eager young soldier he’d once been, proudly going off to war.
The puppies were awake and crying pitifully and loudly for her when Misty came back from her first trip to the pig bins. She’d only been gone for a short while, but they were lonely and cold, unable to keep themselves warm. When she got back, Misty smelt different to her blind and deaf pups. She smelt of cake and eggshell and stale bread and pastry and gravy and jam. The puppies, however, were only interested in Misty’s milk, especially the firstborn pup who was always hungry.
Misty fed both pups and then meticulously cleaned them as she did after each meal and whenever they woke up. Stomachs full and warmed by their mum, the puppies soon drifted back to sleep. Misty slept too, but fitfully, and she whimpered with the pain in her leg and a new pain that was developing deep inside her.
She could still smell Daniel and knew he was somewhere very near, but she sensed that he meant her and her pups no harm.
Sheba lay close by and kept a careful watch over them all.
Chapter 6
Amy took Misty’s photograph and tin of dog biscuits with her as she headed back to the Wards’ house through the bomb-damaged streets. Firemen had put out the fires from the night before and were now rolling up their hoses, but they couldn’t wash everything away. Broken window glass and wood, bricks, paper, dust and dirt remained.
People called to each other as they swept up the broken glass and boarded up their windows. The bomb damage had everyone talking and sharing their experiences. Neighbours helped each other with their repairs. Cups of tea and hammers and nails were shared.
The smoke that lingered in the air from the previous night’s fires made Amy cough and she worried that there might be an air-raid warning siren going off at any time, but she’d promised Jack she’d find Misty and she intended to do just that.
She’d never forget how excited she and Jack had been the day their father had brought Misty home, a bundle of fur and big brown eyes, in a wicker basket. Misty had been just ten weeks old, Amy had been six and Jack had been twelve that very day. Misty had been a birthday present.
‘What do you think of her then?’ their father had said as Jack lifted Misty out of the basket and held her to him.
Amy was in total awe of the puppy. ‘She’s so beautiful,’ she’d said.
Once she’d sat down, Jack had handed her Misty to hold. She’d marvelled at how soft Misty’s fur was and laughed when the puppy licked her face.
Both she and Jack had thought Misty was perfect from the moment they’d met her. The first time they’d taken her to the seaside she’d loved digging in the sand. But when she saw Jack and Amy going into the sea she’d barked and barked. It was as if she were warning them to be careful. When they didn’t come back, she’d splashed into the waves, for the very first time, to join them and soon they were all swimming together. It was the best holiday ever and they all went swimming every day.
Amy smiled at the memory. Every good memory she had, in fact, had Misty prominently in it somewhere.
Amy pulled the photograph from her pocket and showed it to anyone who would stop for long enough to look.
‘Excuse me, have you seen this dog …? She’s cream-coloured … she went missing last night … she’s quite shy.’
Amy had almost given up hope of anyone having seen Misty when a woman wearing a bottle-green scarf said she thought she might have done.
‘Poor little thing. I was just coming out of the station when I saw her. I wanted to stop, but my friend urged me on and so I didn’t – I wish I had. She must have been so frightened,’ the woman said. ‘She seemed shy, almost hesitant …’
A tear slipped down Amy’s face and she brushed it away with her fingers because she didn’t have a handkerchief with her.
‘She was … is, I mean.’
‘I hope you find her,’ the woman said.
Amy nodded and sniffed. ‘I hope so too, thank you.’ At least someone had seen Misty and there was now a little more hope that she might find her.
She turned down the street that led to the Wards’ house and knocked at their door. The dogs inside barked excitedly.
‘Amy,’ Mrs Ward said as she opened the door. Amy was instantly surrounded by interested dogs. ‘Give her some space, Sky. Heggerty, leave her alone. Has your brother left? Is there any news on Misty?’
‘Yes and no,’ said Amy as she went inside.
Mr Ward was out, but Michael was there. He came in from collecting chicken eggs in the back garden.
Amy told him and Mrs Ward that someone had seen Misty. ‘Where?’ Michael asked.
‘Near the station. Yesterday your dad said something about lost dogs moving in a triangular pattern and I wasn’t sure what he meant. How big would this triangle be?’
‘It’s usually a maximum of five miles,’ Michael told her. ‘But I don’t think a pregnant dog like Misty would be able to go that far.’
‘Here, this might help,’ said Mrs Ward. She spread out a map of their area of London on the kitchen table.
‘So if we start from your house in Swan Street …’
‘That’s here,’ Amy said, pointing to it.
‘And now we know she was seen near Wood Green Station … Then the third point of the triangle has to be …’
‘Here,’ Amy said, pointing at Alexandra Palace. She sighed. If Misty was lost there then she might be very hard to find, especially with London in such chaos with the bombings.
Alexandra Palace, or Ally Pally as everyone called it, had almost two hundred acres of parkland surrounding it.
‘It’s such a large area to search,’ she said, sighing.
Michael nodded. The parkland was the perfect place for a dog to hide.
‘Right, though of course Misty’s route wouldn’t be as straight or exact as the lines on a map,’ he said.
At least now they knew roughly where to look and any plan was better than no plan.
‘Did Misty have a favourite place she liked to go?’ Michael asked Amy. If she did then it might be best to try there first.
‘Definitely our local park,’ said Amy. Lordship Recreation Ground was much nearer to their house than Alexandra Palace, and she and Jack often took Misty there. Jack had commented on how much she loved it when they’d passed the park on their way to the station earlier and suggested she keep looking there.
‘Lordship Rec and a ball to chase were Misty’s idea of heaven,’ Amy added.
‘Then that’s where we should try first,’ said Michael. ‘I’ll come and help you look.’
Sky wagged her tail hopefully.
‘Come on then,’ Michael said.
Heggerty wagged her tail too, but Michael looked doubtful. Heggerty wasn’t able to manage long walks any more and he wasn’t sure how long they’d be. But still he didn’t like to say no to her.
‘Not you, Heggerty,’ said Mrs Ward. ‘Come on, I’ve got some chicken you might like.’
Heggerty followed her into the kitchen as Amy, Michael and Sky left the house.
Amy yawned as they headed back up the streets she’d just come down.
‘Oops – sorry,’ she said.
‘That’s OK − no one got much sleep last night,’ said Michael, smiling.
Sky wagged her tail. She didn’t seem to be in the least bit tired.
Amy shook Misty’s tin of biscuits, called out her name and showed people her photograph. But no one else had seen her and most p
eople looked like they had other, more pressing things to worry about than a missing dog.
‘The war has left so many pets homeless and unwanted,’ said Michael as he saw Amy’s look of despair. ‘When it started, lots of people thought they wouldn’t be able to look after their pets any more. Hundreds of thousands were put down at the start of the war and many more have been abandoned, left to wander the streets, and become strays. Dogs who’d once been loved now have to fend for themselves as best they can.’
‘I feel so sorry for them,’ Amy said. ‘It’s so unfair.’
Michael nodded his agreement.
‘NARPAC can only do so much and, as the war continues, more and more pets need our help, especially with the bombings. But the truth is we can’t help them all.’
‘I don’t want Misty to become like them,’ said Amy.
And what would happen to Misty’s puppies if she did? It was hard enough for an adult dog to survive. What chance would a vulnerable puppy have?
‘At least she’s registered; those that haven’t been are at the very bottom of the list,’ Michael said.
‘I was supposed to look after Misty while Jack went to war. She was my responsibility. But she’d gone missing before he’d even left,’ said Amy.
‘That wasn’t your fault,’ Michael told her.
But Amy couldn’t help thinking that it was. She swallowed hard.
‘When the air-raid siren went off, I was so frightened I couldn’t even think. I just ran for the Anderson shelter − I left Misty behind – so you see it was really my fault.’
‘No,’ Michael started to say again.
But Amy shook her head because whatever he said she couldn’t forgive herself.
They went in through the metal gates of Lordship Rec and once Michael unclipped her lead Sky raced off to find a squirrel to chase. She came back with a broken, discarded shoe.
‘That’s not a ball!’ Michael said, laughing.