Rationing hadn’t started yet, but she’d already registered with the local butcher and grocer, and the ration cards were sitting on the mantel above the fireplace where the Kitchener range warmed the kitchen.
It was her favourite room, which was a good thing, because she spent a lot of time in there. The window overlooked the garden and the backs of the houses behind it; the lino was worn, but colourful, and matched the oilcloth she’d spread over the table, which could seat eight at a pinch. There was a picture of the King and Queen on the wall, shelves were laden with crockery, and hooks above the range held pots and pans. The wireless stood proudly on top of the chest of drawers where she kept her best linen tablecloths, and the kettle was set to one side of the hob, filled and ready to put on to boil. There was always time for a cup of tea.
‘I’m hungry,’ whined Ernie, as he jealously watched the other children eating the sandwiches their mothers had packed so tearfully that morning.
Sally was hungry too, but after Ernie’s breakfast of bread and dripping, there had been nothing left in the larder to bring with them, and no time or money to buy something on the way. ‘Sorry, luv. You’ll just have to wait until we get to wherever we’re going.’
‘But I’m hungry now,’ he muttered.
‘I know,’ she sighed, the guilt flooding through her again. He was so small and skinny and he relied on her for everything. She’d let him down. Then she remembered the toffee in her coat pocket. She’d been given it the day before at work – one of the girls had brought in a big bag of them and she’d popped it into her pocket, meaning to enjoy it the night before. Rummaging, she found it, and brushed off the fluff. ‘Suck it slowly,’ she advised as she unwrapped it. ‘It will last longer if you don’t chew.’
Mollified and content, Ernie closed his eyes and savoured the sweet.
Sally folded her hands on her lap and looked out of the window. She reckoned they’d been travelling for at least an hour, and the sights of London were far behind them now, replaced by endless fields, narrow lanes, thatched cottages, sprawling farmhouses and big open skies.
She looked down at the fast-running river as they clattered over a bridge, gazed in awe at the sight of the great rolling hills that seemed to tower over the tiny villages nestled beneath them. She had never seen such emptiness before, and wondered how people managed without shops and neighbours close by. What did they do all day? How did they make a living?
The sound of the door to their compartment sliding open made her turn. It was the bossy woman again.
‘We shall be arriving in ten minutes,’ she said. ‘Don’t leave anything behind, and that includes your rubbish,’ she said, with a pointed glare at the sandwich wrappings on the floor. Her gimlet gaze settled on Sally. ‘I will hold you responsible for the children in here. Make sure they are ready to alight once the train comes to a standstill.’ She shut the door with a sharp click and moved on down the swaying corridor to the next compartment.
‘I don’t like her,’ mumbled Ernie through the toffee. ‘I ’ope she ain’t staying with us.’
‘I expect she’ll be going back to London,’ replied Sally, as she pulled down the cases and parcels from the luggage shelf. Having checked that each child had been reunited with the correct items, and that the wrappers and sweet papers were tidied away in an empty paper bag, she slipped on her coat and hat and hid the bag in her pocket. She didn’t want the fat woman finding fault – it could make a difference to where they were billeted.
She fussed with Ernie’s blazer, mackintosh and school cap, and held his squirming chin in a tight grip as she gave his face a quick clean with her handkerchief and tugged a comb through his tangled hair. Satisfied he looked reasonably presentable, she glanced in the mirror above the opposite seat, and had to admit she looked tired. The felt hat and draughty coat looked tired as well in the light that streamed in through the window, but there was nothing she could do about it. She sat down again and clutched the handbag on her knees, wondering where they were going, and what the people there would be