Miles switched off the set and sighed heavily. Charlotte’s eyes widened with fear, but Georgie, having driven over from Cranwell for the day, rubbed his hands together gleefully. ‘Now we can get at ’em. Hitler’s been allowed to get away with far too much already.’
Philip, home from London, paced the floor. ‘I suppose I shall have to enlist.’ He glanced at his father. ‘Do my bit.’
‘You needn’t. You could wait until you’re called up. And even then, with your job, you might be able to apply for a dispensation.’
Philip gave a wry laugh. ‘I doubt it, Father. Everyone’s going to be too busy to be needing lawyers.’
Miles glanced at Ben. ‘You’ll be all right, son. The list of reserved occupations includes farmers.’
Ben stared back at him and seemed to straighten his shoulders. With quiet determination, he said, ‘But I don’t want to do that, Father. I shall volunteer for the army.’
Georgie clapped him on the back. ‘Good for you, old boy.’ He grinned at Philip. ‘Now, Phil, you just need to join the navy and we’ll have all three services covered.’
Charlotte moved to stand beside Miles’s chair and rest her hand on his shoulder. Softly, she whispered, ‘You won’t have to go, will you?’
‘No, my love, not this time. Though . . .’
Fear clutched her heart. ‘What?’ she demanded swiftly.
‘I think we should do something to help the war effort.’
‘What?’ she asked again.
Miles twisted his head to look up at her. ‘Take in evacuees. They’re coming in droves from the big cities. It started three days ago.’
For a moment, she stared at him, then smiled. ‘Of course. What a brilliant idea, Miles. We’ve heaps of room here.’
‘Right,’ Miles heaved himself to his feet, ‘no time like the present. I’ll go and see the billeting officer in Ravensfleet this very minute.’ He turned briefly and touched Charlotte’s cheek. ‘Do us good,’ he smiled, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes. ‘To have something else to think about other than these three reprobates.’
The house felt very empty with only Ben still at home. Philip had returned to his law firm in London and Georgie, fairly bouncing with excitement, had headed straight back to camp leaving only Ben to carry on the work of Home Farm and the estate.
‘What about the Warren boys?’ Charlotte asked Miles. ‘Do you think they’ll go?’
‘Shouldn’t think so for a minute. They’ll be in a reserved occupation for sure. Besides – ’ he chuckled – ‘I think you’re forgetting just how old those “boys” are now?’
Charlotte thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘Heavens, yes, I suppose I am. And I’m forgetting how old I am, too.’ For a moment, her eyes were bleak. There was still no sign of a baby and the clock was ticking . . .
Breaking into her thoughts, Miles added, ‘Apart from Thomas. How old is he now?’
‘Twenty,’ Charlotte whispered.
Of all the Warren family, Thomas was the only one who’d decided he didn’t want to work on Purslane Farm. He’d turned out to be the brightest one in the family and was in the middle of a university degree studying medicine.
‘I’d’ve thought he’d be a good bet to be granted a dispensation, if he applies. But I don’t really know, Charlotte,’ Miles said. Then his face brightened. ‘Mr Tomkins – he’s the billeting officer for Ravensfleet – telephoned this morning. He has an evacuee for us.’ His smile broadened. ‘A little girl.’
Charlotte forced her thoughts back to the present moment. ‘How lovely. How old is she? Where is she from? When is she coming?’
‘Whoa, whoa there.’ He took her hands in his. ‘She arrived three days ago with the party of children from London.’
‘Three days!’ Charlotte was puzzled. ‘So why hasn’t she been found a billet – a home with someone – before now?’
‘Er – well,’ Miles was hesitant. ‘She did. In a way.’
‘Then why – ?’
‘She was sent back because she’s – she’s – difficult.’
‘Difficult? How d’you mean?’
‘She had head lice when she arrived. A lot of the children did, but this little girl was unlucky enough to be placed with two spinster sisters in Ravensfleet who just threw up their hands in horror and dispatched her back into Mr Tomkins’s care. He and his wife have done their best, but he says she’s very wilful and has tantrums. They can’t get her to wash and they certainly haven’t been able to deal with the lice.’
Charlotte’s eyes softened. ‘Poor little scrap. Sent away from her home. She must be so lonely and afraid. Oh Miles, let’s fetch her. Now. Let’s go this minute.’
Miles hugged her swiftly. ‘I knew you’d say that. I’ll get the car . . .’
As they walked up the front path of Mr Tomkins’s neat cottage, they could already hear the high-pitched screaming from inside. Charlotte and Miles glanced at each other.
‘Poor mite,’ Charlotte murmured. ‘She only needs a little love and care, I’m sure . . .’
As Mr Tomkins opened the front door to their third loud knock, Charlotte thought she’d never seen the usually calm, mild-mannered man look so harassed.
‘Thank goodness you’ve come, but I’m not sure I’m doing you any favours . . .’
He was interrupted by a whirlwind of blond hair, wiry limbs and a face like thunder, pushing past him and then between Miles and Charlotte. The child ran down the path, flung open the gate and started off along the road.
‘I ain’t stayin’ here no longer,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘I’m going ’ome. I’d sooner face old ’Itler’s bombs than stay here anuvver minute.’
‘I’ll go after her,’ Miles said grinning from ear to ear, completely unfazed by the child’s tantrum. ‘You talk to Mr Tomkins, dear.’
He set off after the girl, his long strides soon shortening the distance between them, for the child had slowed to a walking pace, though she still marched towards the railway station with a grim, determined set to her jaw.
Mr Tomkins smoothed his hand through his thinning hair and ran his forefinger round the inside of his collar as if it was restricting his neck. ‘Do come in, Mrs Thornton. Mabel’s just clearing up the mess. The child threw her breakfast on the floor. Dear me, I’ve never seen such a temper in a child. Perhaps we’d better let her go back.’
‘No,’ Charlotte said swiftly. ‘We can’t do that. We can’t send her back into danger, if it’s going to be as bad as they say.’
‘Mm,’ Mr Tomkins murmured. ‘I suppose you’re right, but the expected onslaught doesn’t seem to be happening.’
‘Not yet,’ Charlotte said quietly, her thoughts drifting to Georgie. Resolutely, she turned them back to the little waif, sent far away from her home to strangers. ‘But we can’t take that risk.’
‘Charlotte.’ Mrs Tomkins came into the room. She and Charlotte were a similar age and had known each other from childhood even though Charlotte had never been allowed to make friends.
‘Mabel.’ Charlotte greeted her warmly and held out both her hands. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll take her home. Do our best.’
Mabel grimaced. ‘I wish you luck, because I think you’re going to need it.’
‘Where do you think they’ve gone?’ Charlotte said, stepping to the front window and peering out through the lace curtains.
‘She said she was going home, but she’s not taken her belongings.’ Mabel sniffed. ‘Mind you, they’re hardly worth taking. She’s only got the clothes she’s wearing and they’ve seen better days. Poor little lass. The only other thing she brought besides her gas mask was a moth-eaten old teddy.’
‘And she’s gone without it?’
Mabel nodded.
Charlotte’s eyes gleamed as an idea formed in her mind. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Her name, you mean? Jenny Mercer.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘No – I meant the teddy bear’s, actually.’
Mabel shrugg
ed. ‘I’ve no idea.’
‘No matter,’ Charlotte murmured, heading for the front door. Leaving the cottage, she headed down the path and out into the road. In the distance she could see that Miles had caught up with the wilful little girl. They were at the corner and were standing facing each other. Or rather, Miles was squatting so as to bring his face level with Jenny’s.
Charlotte bit her lip, hesitating, unsure whether she should interfere. Perhaps Miles was doing a better job on his own. She walked slowly towards them. Then she saw Jenny turn swiftly away and begin to cross the road. Miles caught hold of the child’s arm and a high-pitched scream rent the air. Charlotte quickened her pace.
The girl was wriggling and kicking out at Miles’s shins, but he held her fast. ‘You’ll get run over, love. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. But you must look where you’re going.’
He glanced helplessly at Charlotte but still kept a firm grip on the squirming little body.
‘Jenny,’ Charlotte began. ‘If you’re going back to London, haven’t you forgotten a couple of things?’
For a moment, Jenny’s efforts to break free stopped and she stared up at Charlotte.
‘What?’
‘For one thing, you must take your gas mask and for another – what about Teddy? You surely weren’t going to leave him, were you?’
The young girl became perfectly still.
‘If you promise me not to run into the road without looking both ways,’ Miles said, ‘I’ll let go.’
Jenny nodded and Miles released his grip, though he remained standing close by – just in case.
‘His name’s Bert,’ Jenny muttered and took a step – albeit a reluctant one – back towards the cottage. ‘I’d better get him. And me gas mask.’
‘And what about the train fare? Have you any money?’
As the child blinked and looked up at her, Charlotte saw that she had the bluest eyes she had ever seen.
‘Don’t need no money. We come on the train an’ didn’t ’ave ter pay.’
‘I think that was special, because the train was bringing you all to the country. But if you choose to go back without the others, you’ll have to pay.’
The girl looked suddenly even smaller, lost and afraid. Her lower lip trembled and she ducked her head, but not before Charlotte had seen the tears welling in her lovely eyes. Now Charlotte squatted down in front of her. ‘Tell you what, how about you come home with us for a day or two? If you really don’t like it, then we’ll pay for your train fare back home.’
The girl’s head jerked up. ‘Promise?’
‘Well, I don’t think your mum’ll want you to go back to the city when she’s sent you here to be safe, but if you’re really so unhappy, then—’
‘Don’t think mi mum’d be bothered. She’s got a fancy man an’ I was in the way.’
‘Oh – oh, I see,’ Charlotte murmured, but she didn’t really. She knew nothing about this child’s background but it sounded as if she’d been sent to the country with the other evacuees more to get her out of the way than for her safety.
Charlotte stood up, smiled down at Jenny and held out her hand. ‘You come with us, Jenny. Give us a try, eh? Maybe you’d like to stay with us for a little while and then we’ll see, eh?’
The child looked up at her, staring straight into Charlotte’s eyes. Then she nodded. ‘All right, missis. I’ll give it a go, but if I don’t like it . . .’
‘Then I promise we’ll take you back to London ourselves and talk to your mum. All right?’
Again the little girl nodded and put her grubby paw into Charlotte’s outstretched hand.
Above her head Charlotte and Miles exchanged a smile.
Fifty-Five
Georgie arrived home on a seventy-two-hour pass. The first sounds he heard on entering the front door were high-pitched screams and a great deal of splashing water emanating from the first-floor bathroom.
‘What on earth’s going on?’ he laughed, dumping his kit bag in the hall and greeting his father, who emerged from the sanctuary of his study.
Miles smiled wryly. ‘It’s our new houseguest. An evacuee from London. She’s got nits or head lice or something. She’s not taking kindly to the treatment Charlotte is meting out. I’m keeping out of the way.’ He chuckled. ‘Playing the good guy when all the scream-ing’s over.’
‘You might be waiting a while, by the sound of it.’ Georgie began to take the stairs, two at a time with his long athletic legs. Miles called after him, ‘I’d change out of your uniform first, Georgie. It might be rather wet in there.’
‘I will.’
Minutes later, Georgie was knocking on the bathroom door and opening it to a wall of noise and a wave of water sloshing across the linoleum towards him.
‘Need any help, Charlotte?’ he shouted above the din.
‘Georgie! What a lovely surprise.’
At the sound of the man’s voice, the child, fighting Charlotte’s every attempt to wash her hair, was suddenly still and quiet. The silence was as deafening as the noise had been a moment before.
Georgie stepped through the water and squatted down in front of the girl and held out his hand. ‘Hello, I’m Georgie. I’m very pleased to meet you.’
The child stared at him with her brilliant blue eyes. ‘Would you like me to dry your hair for you, while Charlotte clears up all this mess?’
Jenny considered for a long moment, her face tear-streaked and sullen. Then, suddenly, she smiled and it was like the sun coming out from behind the darkest storm cloud. She nodded.
Charlotte wrapped the huge white towel round her skinny wet body and handed her over to Georgie with an inward sigh of relief.
‘Take her to the nursery. Kitty’s been busy all morning cleaning it and lighting a fire in there. It should be cosy by now.’
Georgie lifted the little girl up into his arms and carried her from the bathroom, leaving Charlotte to mop up the tidal wave and set the bathroom to rights. Not for the first time, Charlotte marvelled at how Georgie’s charm worked such wonders.
A little later, when order had been restored to a still rather damp bathroom, Charlotte went along to the nursery. Miles was hovering on the landing.
‘Do you think they’re all right? I can’t hear anything. The silence is almost worse than the noise.’
‘Oh Miles, you should have seen her smile at Georgie.’ She laughed and shook her head in wonderment. ‘That boy never ceases to amaze me. He can charm the birds out of the trees.’
Miles chuckled. ‘He always could.’
Charlotte smiled fondly. ‘I remember.’
They listened outside the door for a moment before opening it quietly and peering round it. Georgie was sitting on the hearthrug, with the child curled against him, her head on his chest, whilst he read to her one of his own favourite books from childhood – The Wind in the Willows.
‘Just look at her hair,’ Miles whispered. ‘What pretty blond curls she’s got, now it’s clean.’ Charlotte glanced at him but his gaze was fastened on Jenny.
‘Blond hair and blue eyes – what a little stunner,’ he murmured.
‘And she has the prettiest dimples in her cheeks when she smiles,’ Charlotte whispered back.
He turned to her, dragging his gaze reluctantly away from the little girl for a moment. ‘She smiled? She actually smiled?’
Charlotte chuckled softly. ‘Oh yes – but only at Georgie.’
‘That figures!’
They watched for a few moments longer before Georgie became aware of their presence. He grinned and beckoned them in.
‘We’re reading,’ he informed them unnecessarily.
‘So we see,’ Miles murmured, his eyes still drinking in the sight of the clean, sweet-smelling child, leaning against Georgie and sucking her thumb. Her eyes drooped with tiredness.
‘I think it’s time she went to bed,’ Charlotte said quietly, torn between not wanting to spoil the tranquillity, but conscious of her duty as a surrogate mot
her.
‘Right, little one,’ Georgie said, moving her gently from his lap and standing up. ‘Time for beddibyes.’
Charlotte held her breath, expecting an outburst, but none came. When he picked her up, Jenny wound her arms round Georgie’s neck and laid her head against his shoulder. She was almost asleep already.
‘Poor little scrap,’ Miles murmured, touching her curls gently as Georgie carried her out of the nursery and into the bedroom next door to it. He tucked her into bed, promising, ‘Charlotte and Miles are right next door and I’m just down the corridor. If you want anything, you only have to shout and we’ll come running. All right?’
‘Mm.’ There was a pause before she murmured, ‘Bert?’
Georgie looked round at Charlotte and Miles standing in the doorway. ‘What’d she say?’
‘Of course. It’s her teddy. Now where – ?’ Charlotte hurried into the room and towards the bundle of Jenny’s few belongings, fishing out the shabby teddy bear.
‘Here he is – hiding amongst your clothes.’ She tucked him in beside the child and then bent to kiss her forehead. ‘Night, night, sleep tight, mind the—’ Then she stopped.
Any reference to bugs was not the most appropriate thing to say to the little girl, she realized just in time. She bit her lip and exchanged a rueful smile with Miles.
They left a night light burning on the mantelpiece in case Jenny should wake in the darkness and be frightened. And then, sure that she was already sound asleep, the three crept out of the room, leaving the door ajar.
Georgie led the way downstairs and into the dining room, where Wilkins hovered anxiously. Dinner had already been held back almost an hour.
‘Now,’ Georgie demanded. ‘I want to hear all about her and how she comes to be here.’
Over the three days Georgie was at home, Jenny never left his side. She followed him about the house like a little shadow, her teddy clutched in her arms, her thumb in her mouth. But there was one thing that even Georgie could not persuade her to do, which was to go outside.
‘Wouldn’t you like to see the animals? We’ve got pigs and chickens and one or two horses in the stables,’ Georgie coaxed her. ‘Maybe, my dad would get you a little pony and you could learn to ride.’
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