When Mum and Dad took Solo home to bed, Lilly asked if Grandma and I would like to stay and watch a film with Harry. Well, she didn’t actually ask Grandma, because Grandma was asleep and snoring on her beanbag. So Harry and I watched The Jungle Book, which is one of Harry’s favourites. Then guess what? Grandma woke up and said she thought I should get Harry’s quilt and show it to him, even though it’s not quite finished.
So I did. I pointed out every memory to Harry: the bouncing, Artcloud, Cirrus, Miss Lemonpops, sweets, owls, hedgehogs, clouds, stars, cucumber sticks, doughnuts with sprinkles, the telescope, the almost-twins … and Harry smiled and smiled. Then we curled up together on his beanbag and Grandma hid us under the quilt, while she read us the last two Rosie letters.
Isn’t that amazing? The Guides actually managed to finish the quilt! In spite of everything, they just kept going until they had made it. As Harry and I hid under our quilt, we were totally in awe.
There was just one more letter left. I asked Grandma if we could read it another day, because I thought Harry might be falling asleep. But Grandma said she thought it best to keep reading, and so she did.
It felt so sad that this was the last of the letters. I wished Grandma had saved it so that Harry and I still had it to look forward to. I expect Grandma felt that about finishing the quilt – you want to finish, but then again you don’t. At least Grandma knew the Guides had inspired the women to make quilts – and now she has inspired me to make a quilt too! Even if it wasn’t finished for Christmas, it did feel quite special and magical as Harry and I lay underneath our memories.
I think Grandma felt extra sad after reading the last letter, because she had tears on her cheek. Maybe it made her miss Jimmy more than ever. I hope not.
I must have fallen asleep beside Harry. I sort of remember Dad carrying me home and now it’s morning and I’ve just woken up in my own bed – still in my Christmas clothes and wrapped in Harry’s quilt.
BLACK BOXING DAY
I wanted to rush outside and ring the Artcloud bell so Harry and I could talk about our amazing Christmas. Then I remembered that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, probably not ever again come up to Artcloud. It was like my stomach was weighed down by a ton of blackness.
Well, I thought, I can still go and talk to Harry. Only Mum said I should wait a bit because he might be tired after so much Christmas fun, so I hid under my bed.
LATER
Joe came round and sat on my bed. He asked me if I wanted to sit with Harry for a bit. He said Harry was asleep and might not wake up, but he would know I was there. Joe said Harry had been very brave and had waited to share Christmas with us, but now he was ready to leave us for a new adventure.
I didn’t want to go and see Harry. I wanted to stay under my bed.
Mum came up and lay down beside me. We didn’t talk, we just held hands. It made me want to hold Harry’s hand, because he liked me to do that. Harry wouldn’t want to go on a new adventure without a hand to hold – so Mum and I went next door together.
Harry was asleep in his big white bed, breathing like a rattle, the silly hedgehog. His mum and dad were beside him and Cirrus too. I snuggled in among them and hugged my bestest ever friend and held his little hand.
I don’t remember much more. I think Dad came and carried me home. The thing I do remember and always will is that Harry died this very night. I will always, always remember that, even though I’ll never see that stupid, stupid, idiot boy again.
I love you Harry Christmas.
You’ll always be my bestest friend and almost-twin.
27TH DECEMBER
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JANUARY
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1ST JANUARY,
HARRY’S CELEBRATION DAY
There is a special party at Harry’s house today to celebrate his life. Lilly has made all his favourite foods. Everyone has been very kind to me, like I’m ill or something. Joe made a speech and thanked me for being Harry’s friend. Now I’ve come up to Artcloud to hide, because my tongue has run away and I can’t talk to people. I don’t even know what to say. I should have said something about Harry being my almost-twin, but it’s too secret.
There is a bouncy castle for the children to bounce on. I can see kids playing on it through my spy hole. Harry did love to bounce, but just looking at it makes me cry. I can’t stop crying now.
Last night I woke up and thought Harry was bouncing on my bed. Then I thought I heard the Artcloud bell ring, but it must have been my imagination because Harry’s not here any more. But still I hear the bell and see the covers on my bed move up and down, up and down, up and down.
Maybe one day Harry will send me a message in the clouds. I think he will. I hope it says: “My head doesn’t hurt now and I haven’t turned into a hedgehog!”
I have just been out onto the walkway and sung “How Sweet to be a Cloud” as loudly as I could into the night. I expect Harry heard it.
3RD JANUARY,
NO HARRY
It’s worse than you can ever imagine and it won’t ever, ever get better. I’m supposed to go back to school next week, but I’m going to hide in Artcloud for ever and ever. If I keep looking I might see Harry on a cloud. I’m frightened I will, and I’m frightened I won’t.
If I could talk to Harry just once more I think I might feel better. I could tell him a cloud joke and make him smile.
4TH JANUARY
Things just get worse and worse and all because of Harry. I’ve done a terrible thing and everyone hates me, but I don’t care. It’s all the fault of that stupid, stupid, rubbish boy. I hate him – he just makes me SO angry. Would I ever have gone and died on him? Not a chance in hell!
I was lying in Artcloud looking up through the window to see if there was a message for me in the clouds, but there weren’t any clouds and there wasn’t any Harry. He was always messing me about and pretending not to be there when he was, and now he’s still doing it. He made me so mad that I took his scissors and cut up all his cloud notebooks, his horrid cloud blanket, his ridiculous cloud cushion and his stupid owl. Everything is in bits and covered in cushion feathers and I’m glad, really, really glad.
Only somehow Lilly found out and she won’t stop crying. She’s still standing halfway up Harry’s ladder saying, “How could you, how could you?” Mum is there too and she’s also crying, so now I’ve barricaded the door and I’m going to stay here for ever and cut up everything, even the cloud pictures I did for Harry.
I wish they would all go away and leave me alone.
LATER
I think I’ve been asleep. It’s freezing cold and very dark outside.
I am all alone now, Mum and Lilly aren’t outside.
5TH JANUARY
Dad broke in to Artcloud in the night with hot chocolate and blankets. We didn’t speak, but we slept curled up together and it felt much warmer.
It’s morning now and I’ve been inside for breakfast, but I’m not really hungry so I’ve come back out to Artcloud. I wish I hadn’t been angry and cut everything up – it won’t ever go back together and there are feathers everywhere. It wasn’t Harry’s fault, I know it wasn’t and now everything of his is gone and I should have kept it all just perfect, the way he liked it. I don’t think Lilly will ever talk to me again or let me play with Cirrus, even though Harry said he was my dog too.
6TH JANUARY
I’ve moved back into the house because it’s so cold in Artcloud.
Grandma Gertie isn’t angry with me and nor is Solo. Solo just giggles all the time. I think he really likes me, even with my spiky new hair.
BAD: Lilly is very, very upset and doesn’t want to see me. She, Joe and Fleur have gone to stay with friends, and they’ve taken Cirrus. It’s my fault – those were Harry’s things and I shouldn’t have chopped them up even if he had given them to me. I wish I hadn’t. Mum says I should write to Lilly and say how sorry I am. She says Lilly and Joe are very, very sad right now and sometimes sadness can
make you angry – as if I didn’t know that. It’s all right for adults, they’re allowed to be cross but kids aren’t – even if their hearts are aching fit to split in two and they’re covered by a great black cloud.
GOOD: I am not going back to school next week. Mum has told them I’ll go back the week after.
BAD: I think Harry would be very unhappy that I made his mum cry when she is already so sad. Oh Harry, I am so, so sorry.
What can I do to make it better, Harry?
7TH JANUARY,
NO SCISSORS NEEDED!
I’ve had an idea. It won’t mend Harry’s things, but I think he will like it just the same. Grandma is going to look after Solo while Mum takes me shopping.
LATER
It’s done and it made Mum and me happy and sad at the same time. We bought ten helium balloons in all that hedgehog’s favourite colours. I tied them together with a secret message and a bag of his favourite sweets. We walked to the top of Park Hill and I ran and ran until just the right moment, then I let go of the balloons and they flew up high into the clouds. Higher and higher they went, through the cirrus clouds and up to where the clouds are as strong as a herd of elephants, strong enough to hold Harry, so I hope he’s sucking on those sweets right now.
One day I might be a glider pilot, then I can fly up there myself and drop things off to Harry – maybe even have a chat.
I wanted to phone Joe and Lilly and tell them what I’d done, but Mum and Dad say I must wait until they are less upset. I wish they’d let me walk Cirrus. Apart from Harry he’s my best friend.
8TH JANUARY,
THAT’S GRANDMA FOR YOU!
CLOUDS: Cumulus
When I got up this morning Grandma Gertie was already sitting at the kitchen table cutting out yet more cardboard squares and hexagons. It is her turn to have a brilliant idea and it’s just the best.
Grandma and I are going to use the chopped-up bits of Harry’s stuff to finish his quilt. We can even sew in some of the feathers, and have bits of his notebooks copied onto fabric! Grandma says she knew there was some reason why we hadn’t finished his quilt in time for Christmas, but she never suspected it was because I was going to go on a chopping frenzy! So now my quilt, which is really Harry’s, will have even more memories in it and will always remind me of the most amazing friend ever. Even when I’m old and grey and my memory is slipping, I will be able to point at the patches and tell my grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, about the adventures that Harry and I had together. Maybe I should make Fleur a little quilt too, so she knows what an amazing crepuscular brother she had – I think I might!
I have so many memories of things me and Harry shared together. Grandma says it makes her dizzy just to think about all those hexagons and squares! But, just like the Changi quilt, we will finish it and it will be a very happy quilt! Some of the most special hexagons will be Grandma Gertie sharing her memories of Changi with us, and I’m going to embroider a picture of little Kitten Rosie as a surprise for her.
Did I ever tell you, Diary, that Grandma did find out what had happened to Kitten Rosie, even though she never saw her again? So much has happened, sometimes I can’t remember what I’ve written about and what’s left out. She told Harry and me that after the war, her old nanny sent her a letter and a photograph of Rosie. When the Japanese took over Singapore, Gertie’s nanny escaped to a village with Rosie, who had eventually grown into a very large cat! Grandma thinks she lived like a princess on sardines and champagne. I’ll have to put those in the quilt too!
Grandma says that much of our sadness will get caught up and carried away by our stitching. I doubt that, but she’s the quilting queen so she may be right. I’m off to Artcloud now to collect together all the bits that I chopped up – I knew I’d done it for a reason!
Well, Diary, I think I’ll say goodbye for now because I’m going to be tied up in thread for the next few weeks and, as you know, I’m not really a writing sort of person!
P.S. Solo says my name now – well, I think he does. Mind you, when I used to take him over to see Harry they would make rude noises together, so it might just be one of those! Solo is quite clever though – he is already trying to walk.
P.P.S. When I woke up this morning I saw the sunlight shining through the window like speckled gold. I managed to capture some of it in a jar, and when I’m older I’ll go up in a glider and sprinkle it out of the cockpit to make a sunbeam quilt to keep Harry warm on cold, dark days, just as his quilt will keep me warm.
P.P.P.S. You won’t believe this, but I saw a Kelvin-Helmholtz cloud today – just for a second, then it curled in on itself and vanished. It was stunning. I bet that stupid hedgehog boy saw it too.
I may never see you again, Harry, but you’ll always mean the world to me. Goodbye Harry Hedgehog, my almost-twin.
THE END
ONE LAST THING
When I went to collect all the bits I’d chopped up, I found this note of Harry’s:
One day I will become a glider pilot and surf the Morning Glory. And when I do I’ll take this note and a picture of Harry with me, because it wouldn’t be the same surfing the Morning Glory without my almost-twin and bestest friend.
ABOUT THIS BOOK
In February 1942, Olga Morris was living with her family in Singapore when it was captured by the Japanese. Along with 2,400 other civilians, Olga, her mother and her sister were incarcerated in Changi Prison – a jail built to house just 600 prisoners. The conditions were appalling, with families crammed together in tiny cells measuring eight foot by six foot, with one concrete bed, rats and an endless diet of rice.
But once everyone had settled in, one of the main problems became boredom, particularly among the children. So in 1943 Elizabeth Ennis, who had been a nurse in the Indian Army before being captured, set up a Girl Guide group that met once a week. Olga, along with nineteen other girls aged between eight and sixteen years, joined the group and they quickly bonded into a close unit with Mrs Ennis as their much-loved Guide leader.
The Guides would meet in the corner of the exercise yard, where Olga remembers saying the Guide Promise and singing songs. Luckily, along with the seven dresses Olga’s mother had worn for the long, hot walk to the prison, she had also hidden some needles and thread about her person, so the Guides were able to embroider their badges.
Faced with the horrors of living under the watchful eyes of the Japanese guards, and the lack of food and sanitation, the group gave the children a sense of hope and community. To thank Mrs Ennis, they decided to secretly make her a little coverlet of hexagons. They had no idea how long it would take, or if they would ever be able to finish it, but they decided to start it anyway.
The supply of thread that Mrs Morris had brought into the jail quickly ran out, so the girls began to unpick the seams of clothes that had rotted from repeated wear under the sun. The fabric for the hexagons was cut from the same rotten dresses, or snipped from the hems of dresses still being worn. The Guides found a little cell where they met in secret to stitch the quilt. The guards hated groups to gather, even if they were made up of young children, so if the girls heard a guard approaching they would stuff their sewing into their knickers for fear of being punished. Eventually they managed to finish the quilt and found enough rice sacks to make a backing. One can hardly imagine how overwhelmed Mrs Ennis must have been to receive something so charming and full of hope, born out of the grim misery of internment.
This beautiful little quilt became an inspiration for the women in Changi Prison. They made quilts for the men’s camp, with stitched coded messages so that their husbands and loved ones would know that they were still alive and thinking of them. Three quilts were eventually made. The first one was made to appease the guards, with the flag and flowers of Japan. Then two more were made and embroidered for the men’s camp. Until the men saw the quilts, many of them had no idea if their wives and daughters were still alive. On one of the quilts, Mrs Ennis embroidered an ocean liner with a banner saying “H
omeward Bound” and then signed it. When this quilt was delivered by the Red Cross to the men’s camp, Mr Ennis could hardly believe that his wife was still alive. He said later that this little message kept him going for the remainder of his internment.
I first saw the Changi Guide quilt in 2010, when it was in an exhibition at the V&A Museum. I was immediately struck by how, after so many years, this quilt is still a powerful symbol of young people’s love and endurance. I was later introduced to Olga (now Olga Henderson), the only surviving Guide from Changi Prison, and she generously shared her memories with me. Grandma Gertie’s letters are based on Olga’s story. Although, with Olga’s kind permission, I have taken liberties here and there so that I could create my own patchwork quilt by stitching together Gertie’s story with Harry and Angie’s. This may seem an odd choice of design, but for me both stories tell of the immense courage, loyalty and love shown by young people in the direst of circumstances. They are, for me, a symbol of hope – I trust they will be for you.
Marcia Wiliams, 2018
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MARCIA WILLIAMS was born in England but spent her childhood in Hong Kong, Cyprus, Nigeria and at Swiss and English boarding schools. After she left school Marcia kicked around for a few years, got married, had a family, did an MA in Children’s Literature and then finally settled down to writing and illustrating children’s books. Since then she has created many books, mostly in her highly successful and entertaining comic-strip style. Although some of her books, like My Secret War Diary by Flossie Albright and Lizzy Bennet’s Diary, have edged across the border towards novels, this is her first book written entirely in that form. Marcia lives in a dog kennel, which she shares with one hairy saint and one hairy sinner.
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