The train slowed to a crawl and chuffed its way along until it reached the platform. Sally was joined at the window by the excited children, and she looked for some clue that might tell her where they were. But all the signs had been taken down and, as the train took them deeper into the gloom of a large station, Sally realised that wherever they were, this was a fairly big town.
As the train came to a halt and billowed smoke, she clutched Ernie’s hand and steered the other children in front of her as they joined the crush in the narrow corridor that ran alongside the compartments. The noise was deafening as everyone talked at once and the three women in charge bellowed out their orders.
Sally found the twins in the melee and kept them close as they followed the women across the concourse to an area that had been cordoned off with bunting. Beneath the large welcome sign there was a long trestle table manned by an army of smiling women in WRVS uniform.
Sally’s mouth watered and the children’s eyes bulged at the sight of so much food in one place. There were cakes, sandwiches and rolls, milk and cordial and, at the end of the table, a vast urn promised hot, sweet cups of tea. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she hoped no-one had heard it. ‘See,’ she said, turning to Ernie. ‘I told you we’d be fed soon.’
She found him a seat in the rows of chairs that had been set out, and left him in charge of the case and gas masks to join the queue. The older children helped the little ones as the women behind the table served huge slices of cake and iced buns, their cheery smiles making them forget just how tired and frightened they all were.
When Sally had loaded his plate and settled him with a mug of tea, she went back for her own. The hot tea was the best she’d ever tasted – full of milk and sweet with sugar, it slipped down and revived her no end – and no-one minded when she asked if she could have another cup.
The cake, sausage roll and two sandwiches were delicious, and she could have eaten more, but she didn’t want to appear greedy. There were a lot of children to feed. But Ernie had no such inhibitions. He’d polished off his plateful and gone back for more. ‘I don’t mind the country if the food’s like this,’ he said, through a mouthful of chocolate cake.
‘You’ll make yourself sick,’ she warned, hastily wiping chocolate off his blazer. ‘And do mind what yer doing, Ernie. Yer supposed to eat the cake, not wear it.’
He’d finally eaten his fill, and Sally polished off the discarded sausage roll before returning the plates to the nice WRVS ladies. As she returned to the seat beside him, she became aware of a crowd of people standing on the other side of the cordon. She guessed they had to be those who’d volunteered to take in the evacuees, and she studied them carefully as, one by one, the children were led away.
She noticed that siblings were kept together, and that some people took three or four of the kids, while others only took one. Some of the people looked very smart in good winter coats and polished shoes, and she rather hoped that one of them would take her and Ernie.
The twins went off happily enough with only the merest wave goodbye, and Sally noted the pleasant-faced woman who led them away. They would be all right.
As the numbers dwindled, Sally realised she and Ernie were being scrutinised closely before being passed over. So, she thought, that’s the way of it, is it? Well, if they don’t want us, we can always go back home, and good riddance. She held Ernie’s hand and tried not to care that she and her brother were being muttered over as if they were on a butcher’s slab – and found wanting.
‘Miss Turner. Mr and Mrs Hollings have kindly offered you a place in their home. Please bring your belongings with you.’
Sally gathered everything up and helped Ernie to his feet.
‘Just you, dear. Your brother has been assigned another billet.’
She shot a glance at the middle-aged couple, caught the way she was being ogled by the husband and sat down again. ‘I ain’t going nowhere without Ernie,’ she replied, ‘and especially not with them.’ She glared at the man,