sniffed her disapproval, took their names and executed large ticks on her list. ‘Go to the back of the first bus, and hurry along. We don’t want to be late, do we?’
Sally felt as if she was five again, and being reprimanded by her headmistress. Her face was burning with embarrassment as she helped Ernie and the twins clamber up, and struggled down the narrow aisle with the suitcase, walking stick, handbag and gas-mask boxes. Settling the boys by the window, she watched the tearful goodbyes on the pavement. The bus was already filling up, the younger children snivelling as they clutched an assortment of brown paper parcels, cardboard cases and gas-mask boxes – the older children more thoughtful, their wistful eyes gazing out of the windows for sight of their mothers as the truth sank in.
There was still no sign of Florrie, and she suddenly felt very young and vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Ernie, she’d have got off the bus and headed for the factory, where at least she knew the routine and everything was familiar – but Ernie needed her, so she reluctantly stayed put.
The fat woman finally clambered aboard with her clipboard and ordered the driver to get going. As the buses slowly trundled away from the school, the women walked alongside them, touching the windows where their children’s tearful faces were pressed against the glass, calling out last-minute instructions and loving endearments to their little ones.
It was almost a relief to Sally when the buses picked up speed and left them behind. The guilt was growing by the second, and she couldn’t look those women in the eye any more – but the sound of wailing children just emphasised the finality of it all and made her want to cry too.
As their bus made its grinding way through the streets, Sally kept Ernie and the twins occupied by pointing out the preparations for war. There were sandbags piled in front of government buildings and public air-raid shelters; white tape criss-crossed windows, and tank emplacements were strung all along the river. Signs over shop doorways declared support for Chamberlain, exhorting their customers to do their bit for the cause, whilst recruiting stations were busy with long lines of men patiently awaiting their turn. London’s parks had been dug up to provide even more shelters, and every available strip of land was being planted with vegetables. They smiled as they saw men painting out the street signs – that would confuse the enemy and no mistake, for London was a warren of streets and alleyways.
The entrance to Victoria Station was surrounded by vast piles of sandbags which were guarded by armed soldiers. As the buses ground to a halt, the fat woman took charge again. ‘You will form up in pairs in a straight line and follow me,’ she boomed. ‘Everyone hold hands with the person next to you and make sure you have everything with you.’ She stepped down and was met by three more women who looked just like her.
Sally and Ernie were the last to leave the bus, and she gripped tightly to his hand as the long, snaking line headed into the gloom of the great station. The twins were nearby; she could hear their loud voices above the almost deafening chatter of hundreds of children pouring off similar buses.
There was little time to look around, but the impression Sally got was of a vast domed ceiling, endless platforms and giant steam engines. The noise and bustle of hurrying men in uniform, of crying women, wailing babies and excited children was overlaid with clouds of smoke and steam and the strong, pungent smell of burning coal. As neither of them had been on a train before, she and Ernie stared in awe at their surroundings and Sally realised they were both experiencing a tingle of expectation for the coming adventure. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Their labels were checked again, and then they were being led down the platform, past the great iron wheels to where porters helped them climb aboard. Sally slid back the door to the empty compartment, placed the gas masks and suitcase in the luggage rack and helped the other children settle in.
Once Ernie was made comfortable by the window, she tugged on the leather sash and leant out, scouring the bustling platform for sight of their mother. Just one glimpse of that peroxide hair was all she needed – just one fleeting sight of that