by Anne Baker
There wasn’t a child in the school who wasn’t in awe of her. Amy was terrified of her. As one of the youngest, her place in class was in the front row very near to Mrs Roberts and to avoid her wrath Amy concentrated hard and jumped to follow all her instructions. Bessie said Mrs Roberts had the reputation of being a good teacher and of being very caring of her pupils.
Some of the children in the class lived on the other side of the hill and had a long way to walk, as there was no proper road and no taxi on that route. If it rained and they arrived in wet clothes, Mrs Roberts would take them next door to School House and have them take off their sodden garments. She dressed them from a box of clothing she kept for the purpose. Wet shoes and socks would be dried off in her airing cupboard and returned at the end of the day.
She also made sure that every child had a mug of hot soup at lunchtime to augment their sandwiches. She bought bones in town and grew vegetables in her garden. The older girls were responsible for making soup in a fish kettle that covered two burners on a paraffin oil stove in the girls’ cloakroom. Like the other young ones, Amy was pressed into service to peel onions and carrots.
She soon saw that the oil stove frequently gave off clouds of black smoke that could fill the cloakroom and snake under the door into the classroom. It was a question of getting the wicks adjusted to burn off the paraffin correctly. On days when the stove was acting up, they left the door to the cloakroom open so that Mrs Roberts could keep an eye on it from her desk. If for some reason the stove had gone out, and the soup wasn’t ready, they were given a cup of hot cocoa instead. They each took twopence a week to pay for this nourishment.
Both Auntie Bessie and Uncle Jack had attended that school, though back then they’d had a different teacher. Bessie said the leaving age had been twelve in her day and she’d gone straight into service on a big farm on the other side of town. She was only allowed home one Sunday a month. But Jack had been kept home so often to help his family on their farm that he’d never learned to read and write. Even now, at harvest time, the number of children attending school fell away because they were needed to help at home.
Amy was pleased to be getting more letters. Milo wrote her a long letter about being a soldier and said he didn’t like it. She knew he was in France but he said he wasn’t allowed to tell her how the fighting was going. He enclosed a five shilling postal order. Amy felt quite rich.
June wrote too about her new life as a nurse, telling her she had to get up early and have breakfast with the rest of the nursing staff and then go to a ward for old men to make their beds, help serve their breakfast and get them washed. She thought that was more like domestic work than nursing, but she had a very nice uniform and everybody called her Nurse. At nine o’clock she went to the nursing school and spent the rest of the day in class there.
Amy’s friend Pat sent her a postcard with a picture of Thurstaston cliffs and beach. She was back at school now but she’d again spent two weeks in a holiday cabin there and they’d had a lovely time. That made Amy homesick again because last year Pat’s family had taken her and June with them. She bought a postcard in town for Pat with a view of the valley and asked her to send her telephone number because she might be able to ring her.
The following week she had Pat’s reply and was able to make contact. Amy thought it was marvellous to tell her all her news and wished Pat had come with her, but she was making friends with the local children.
When school was over for the day she walked down the road with them rather than wait for the taxi to return. Glenys had a fairy cycle and sometimes came to school on that. She would walk home with them and let them take turns to ride her bike. Amy longed for one just like it. She remembered being with Pat and peering into a bike shop on the New Chester Road. They had both admired a fairy cycle they’d seen there.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHRISTMAS WAS DRAWING CLOSER, and Leonie received a letter from Amy asking if she might come home to spend it with them. She was filled with sorrow and guilt as she told her daughter it wouldn’t be possible.
All Leonie’s children had left home that year, and although June was near enough to pay them occasional visits, the house seemed very quiet and dull without them.
When Leonie received a note from Amy’s old school telling her that a coach would run on alternate Sundays into Wales so that parents might visit their evacuated children, she was delighted. She’d thought of making her own way there but Sunday was the only day she was free to go, and the trains ran a Sunday service which made it almost impossible.
Leonie longed to meet the people looking after Amy and see for herself where she was living. When June came home on her day off, she asked her if she’d like to go with her.
‘Yes,’ June said. ‘In her letters poor Amy seems a bit lost, but it’ll have to be soon. While I’m in preliminary nursing school I have every Sunday off, but once I start working on the wards I won’t.’
Leonie arranged it for the last full Sunday that June would have free, which also happened to be the last Sunday before Christmas. She wrote to Amy and her hostess to tell them.
Amy was thrilled at the news and so was Bessie, they reread her letters several times. ‘The coach will drop us in town and we’ll have to get a taxi to bring us the rest of the way,’ Mum had written.
Bessie dictated a letter to Amy telling Leonie they were three miles out of town and advising which garage could provide a taxi and where they must ask to be taken. Amy wrote on the bottom, ‘Please Mum would you bring me a pair of hobnailed boots like all the other children wear to school? They call my lace-ups town shoes. Auntie Bessie says boots are very practical for the winter.’
‘What am I going to give your family to eat?’ Bessie worried.
‘Sunday dinner,’ Jack said. ‘They’ll be here at dinnertime, won’t they?’
‘Mum writes that she doesn’t know what time exactly,’ Amy said.
‘It’ll be dinnertime near enough,’ Jack said. ‘The visitors will want their dinner.’
Amy had been excited since she’d read Mum’s letter and when at last the day came, she went down through the cwm alone to meet them. Uncle Jack had stopped her going twice, telling her it was too early, but even so she sat on the five-bar gate at the roadside for a long time before she saw, further down the valley, the big black car snaking towards her.
She couldn’t stand still when it pulled up in front of her. She was pulled into bear hugs and kisses but Mum and June seemed almost like strangers because she hadn’t seen them for nearly four months. They unloaded bags and parcels and asked countless questions. Amy was able to explain everything and was proud to lead them up to the house.
Fly barked a welcome long before they could see him and Bessie and Jack were waiting to receive them outside on the terrace. Amy wanted to see what they’d brought in the bags but Bessie said dinner was ready and they sat down at the big table to eat it straight away.
‘It’s very kind of you to share your rations with us,’ Leonie said. They ate roast beef and roast potatoes with swede and cabbage. Amy’s favourite bun loaf pudding, stewed pears and cream followed, and a very good dinner it was.
Leonie complimented Bessie on her cooking and said, ‘It goes without saying that we’re very grateful for all you’re doing for Amy. She looks the picture of health, country life suits her.’ She had made a fancy apron and some pot holders for Bessie who was more than pleased with them.
Amy couldn’t wait to see what they’d brought for her and cooed with pleasure when she saw the plaid kilt and white blouse her mother had made for her to wear for best, with a warm cardigan to go over it.
‘We’ve bought you that pair of boots you asked for,’ June said. ‘I chose them and I think they’re lovely. I hope you like them too.’
‘We couldn’t get them in black,’ Mum said. ‘I hope you can wear them for school.’
‘They don’t mind what we wear at this school.’
‘They’ll be nice and warm f
or you over the winter months. We got them half a size bigger for you. You’d better try them on now to make sure they fit.’
Amy was surprised when she saw them. They were of soft pale tan leather and had a scalloped cuff round the ankle and fur inside. They were not at all what she’d asked for but they were pretty and comfortable.
Amy was very pleased with everything, but when there was only one more bag to open, she said, ‘Is that my teddy bear?’
‘No, I’m sorry, pet.’ Mum looked guilty.
June said, ‘I’m afraid Pa thought you didn’t want it any more. He put it in an auction sale.’
‘What?’ Amy wailed. ‘He’s never sold it?’
‘Yes, and he was pleased because it made three times what it cost new. There aren’t any teddies in the shops now.’
‘But I wanted it. It always sat on my bed.’
‘We know,’ June said sympathetically. ‘We only found out when I started looking for it but I’ve brought you my Pekinese dog to take its place. You always fancied Goo Goo Ching, didn’t you?’
‘It appeals to older girls,’ Mum told her. The Pekinese wasn’t just a toy, it had a zip along its tummy and the compartment was lined with blue silk. ‘You can keep your pyjamas inside and it can sit on your pillow.’
‘Yes.’ Amy was mollified and stroked the soft imitation fur. ‘I’ve always liked your dog. Thank you.’ They’d also brought several other packages wrapped up in colourful paper that they said she must not open until Christmas Day.
Amy couldn’t wait to get June outside to see Fly and to find Marmaduke. She walked her across the field to see the hens and the calves and the pigs. June had brought her Box Brownie camera with her and took photographs of them all.
The time flew and Mum was saying she’d asked the taxi to meet them down on the road at half past three because the coach was due to pick them up in town at four. Bessie insisted on making them a cup of tea before they left and they all walked down to the road to see them off.
‘You’ve been here no time at all.’ Amy swung on her mother’s arm, feeling full of resentment that she was leaving so soon. ‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘We have to, pet. We’ll come again.’
Amy couldn’t stop her eyes filling with tears when the taxi came.
‘Hello, Amy,’ the driver called as he turned it round. She knew him because he drove the school taxi but that was a much bigger car than this.
She could see June was blinking hard and Mum had that straight determined face, which meant she was doing something she didn’t like. Amy swallowed hard and waved until the car went round the corner and she could no longer see June waving through the back window.
‘You’ve got a lovely family,’ Jack said. ‘They’ve brought you lots of presents. They want you back but think you’ll be safer here with us just now, and you’ll have a nice time here over Christmas.’
‘Everybody else has gone back,’ Amy complained. ‘If it’s safe for them, it’s safe for me. It’s hardly worth Mum and June coming when they only stay for a couple of hours.’
‘Your mam said they’d started out before eight o’clock this morning,’ Bessie said. ‘And they won’t be home before eight tonight. It’s a long way, bach. Anyway, it’s not all that bad here. I thought you liked being with us?’
‘I do, but I’d rather be back at home.’ Amy was glad they had to walk in single file up the cwm. Jack couldn’t see her crying. By the time they reached the bridge she had her tears under control.
Amy’s life was settling into a routine. Bessie offered her three pence a week if she would run across the sideland every morning before school to let the hens out for the day and take them a small helping of cracked Indian corn. They were free-range hens and expected to forage in the field and get most of their food that way.
For that sum, she was also expected to collect the eggs and shut the hens in at night, and bring the cows up to the cowshed when she came home from school and separate the milk afterwards.
Another frequent job was to carry water from the well. At first Amy had not recognised the well for what it was because it was nothing like the wells she’d seen in picture books. This was a spring which filled a shallow pool in the side of a bank. It was kept covered with a zinc roofing sheet held down with big stones so the animals couldn’t push it off to drink. They were expected to drink from the stream at the bottom of the sideland.
Amy was soon enjoying all that. She pleaded to be allowed to take Fly out for walks but Jack said no, she mustn’t untie him. However, Marmaduke was not like a city cat, spending his time curled up by the fire. He would purr and brush against her legs whenever he saw her and follow her across the fields when she saw to the hens, and see her off when she left for school. Every evening at milking time she went out to the cowshed to give him his sardine tin of milk.
‘Just creep closer to Sunshine and see if you can fill it yourself,’ Bessie said as she milked Grumpy. ‘She won’t kick you.’
Amy finally brought herself to try, but the first time she couldn’t get any milk to spurt out. The next evening, Jack said, ‘I learned to milk when I was seven, wouldn’t you like to try? I could show you how.’
Amy stood trying to pluck up her courage, while Marmaduke meowed and rushed back and forth to his sardine tin. Jack found another bucket and stool for her and set them down in the right position. Amy thought it was very close indeed to those clumsy hooves and well within reach of her tail, but she was persuaded to sit on the stool.
‘Use both hands and squeeze gently from the top of the teat like this.’ He held out Marmaduke’s tin and this time she managed to get a small squirt into it and then another.
He put it down for the cat and Amy was persuaded to carry on. He fetched some nuts and emptied them into Sunshine’s manger and although she turned her head to look at Amy as she milked, she chewed contentedly on the nuts.
For a while, Amy was filled with jubilation – she could do it, she could milk – but then the thought of filling the bucket seemed an enormous task she’d never manage. She’d covered the bottom and was flagging when Jack said, ‘Have you had enough? Shall I take over now?’
Amy was glad to give it up but was overjoyed that she’d at last screwed up her nerve to try it.
‘You’ve done very well for a first time. Have another go tomorrow, and you’ll soon get the hang of it.’
The spring weather came and although there was little sign of active conflict in Britain, the news Leonie listened to on the wireless was dire. She was worried about Milo who was now serving with the British Expeditionary Force in northern France, a fighting force of a quarter of a million men.
She knew he’d found it difficult to settle to army life, and the only thing that made it bearable was that his friend Duggie Jenkins had been posted to the same unit so he had a friend to keep him company. He counted that a miracle. He wrote that he couldn’t believe how quickly they had advanced from being raw recruits to being fully trained infantry. Their formal training had passed in a flash.
On 10 May Hitler’s forces suddenly swung into action and invaded Holland, Belgium and northern France with breathtaking ease. The French government swiftly capitulated and Leonie was horrified to hear that the British lines of supply and of retreat were being cut off by the enemy.
All England realised that the British Army had been encircled and was in a perilous situation. Leonie and Steve went through hell knowing Milo could be trapped on the wrong side of the Channel, and not knowing exactly where he was or what was happening to him made it worse. They read every newspaper they could and listened to every news broadcast. It really frightened Leonie to think of Milo being caught up in the fighting.
The news bulletins turned a rout into a victory for the British Army when the news broke that so many of its soldiers were being rescued in heroic fashion by a fleet of small, privately owned boats. Fishing boats and pleasure craft had made their way independently over to Dunkirk to augment the ships se
nt by the navy to bring the men home.
They heard of the chaos on the beaches but the days were passing, and those rescued were returning home and being counted. Still there was no news of Milo.
Leonie was preparing herself for the worst. For the last few nights she’d been unable to sleep and had wept in Steve’s arms. She was exhausted. She spent hours sitting in Milo’s bedroom, thinking of him as he’d been: a longed-for baby, a beautiful toddler, a child and then a grown man. She thought of all the love he’d shown her and that she might never see him again. Would she even know where his grave was?
After his training with dummy bullets, Milo found it frightening to be in a war zone and fighting with live ammunition. Now it was all in deadly earnest, the enemy meant to kill him and as many of his comrades as it could.
He’d hardly had time to get used to that before Hitler’s lightning advance across the Low Countries took everybody by surprise. The first Milo knew of it was that they were ordered to abandon their positions and fall back. The withdrawal began in a disciplined and orderly fashion but the enemy was close on their heels.
Ground troops in panzer tanks with powerful 37 mm guns chased them. At the same time they endured attack from above, bombs exploded all around them and they were strafed by bullets from Stuka dive bombers.
Milo and Duggie were riding in the back of a lorry that had a canvas roof, squashed in with twenty other fleeing soldiers. Their lorry was one of a long line of army vehicles snaking back for miles, but the roads were already choked with civilian refugees trying to escape the German advance and progress was almost impossible.