Katy Parker and the House that Cried (10 page)

“Here, drink this,” she said holding a small bottle of brandy carefully to his lips so he could take a sip.

“You're for it now, Katy,” exclaimed Frank in dismay. “Mum's been saving that for the Christmas pudding.”

“Oh shut up! He needs it to help numb the pain,” replied Katy angrily, before turning her attention back to the pilot and helping him to drink.

“What's your name? I'm Katy and this is my brother Patrick. That's Charlie, and I'm sure you can tell that these two are twins – Frank and Harry.”

“Jan. My name is Jan. Thank you, thank you for your kindness,” he replied in almost perfect English. “Please, tell me, have you seen my crew? My navigator and gunner bailed out several fields back but I waited until certain I wouldn't crash into any homes.”

The boys looked at each other wide-eyed with fear, anxious that they might suddenly be surrounded by a hostile enemy. Patrick swallowed hard, then spoke up, “No we haven't seen any one else nearby.”

Jan gave Patrick a weak smile of thanks. “Don't be scared. I won't hurt you.” Exhausted and obviously in great pain, he closed his eyes but held on tightly to Katy's hand.

“Just in time,” said Patrick, as they heard the roar of engines. Jan opened his eyes. Letting go of Katy's hand he fumbled around in his inner breast pocket, pulling out a crumpled black and white photo with a name and address written on the back. “Please help me, I beg you. These are my parents, Isla and Ivan Dieter. Let them know I am safe, otherwise they will think the worst. They have already lost my two brothers in this war. It will destroy them to receive
a telegram saying I'm missing in action, presumed dead.”

Katy quickly took the photo, slipping it into her satchel, and promised to let them know as soon as she could. The very next minute the cowshed was full of soldiers and the children were pushed to one side. Jan was firmly escorted to an army truck and whisked away.

After a long stern lecture about how dangerous their interference had been, the children were driven home to Willow Dene by a young corporal.

“Don't tell our mum, please,” begged the twins. “Our dad is away. You'll just upset her. We won't do anything like this again. We promise, sir.”

The corporal looked at them, clearly considering their plea. Katy had one last try, “Please sir, we just wanted to do our bit for the war effort. We feel so useless, just being kids. We thought this was our chance to really make a difference, instead of just knitting socks.”

The truck pulled up at the end of their road, out of sight of Willow Dene. “Go on then, get out before I change my mind – but keep out of trouble, do you hear? Next time you might not be so lucky.” The children clambered out of the truck and, without a backward glance, the corporal sped off back to camp.

They let out a collective sigh of relief and wearily walked back to the house, pausing briefly at the gate to say goodbye to Charlie.

“Wow! Wait till we tell them at school tomorrow. They'll never believe this!” cheered Frank as they made their way up the garden path.

“But that's just the problem,” said Harry, “They won't believe us. We don't have any proof.”

“That's where you're wrong,” said Patrick, a huge grin on his face. With a flourish he pulled out a small knapsack from under his coat. “I think you'll find all the evidence we need in here. I spotted it behind a hay bale and managed to grab it when no one was looking. It belongs to the pilot. It's got his logbook in it, some German chocolate and what looks like a lucky charm!

Smiling at one another, the children sneaked back into the kitchen and sat around the kitchen table to carry on their game of cards and not a minute too soon, as Mrs Graham shortly appeared in the doorway.

“Good gracious! Are you lot still up? It's time everyone went to bed. And I don't want any arguments. I've had a hard enough time putting Susie to bed tonight!” she laughed.

Katy tried to protest that it was far too early but Mrs Graham simply tutted and said, “Growing children need their sleep. But first, you need your supplements. Line up, please.”

Katy and Patrick looked at one another puzzled, wondering what on earth she meant, whilst Frank and Harry groaned out loud. “Do we have to, Mum? We eat well. We don't need supplements.”

Mrs Graham ignored the twins and stood before them, holding out a large tablespoonful of thick, golden liquid. She beckoned Katy forward. “Open up nice and wide dear. This cod liver oil will keep you healthy and regular.”

Katy held her nose and swallowed. It tasted awful! Next, came a spoonful of something called malt, which was surprisingly nice. Once everyone had been given their supplements, it was time for bed.

Katy got into bed and took out a pen and the writing paper that Mrs Graham had given them to write to their parents. She began to draft a letter to Jan's parents in Germany.

“What if they can't read English?” asked Patrick.

“They're bound to,” replied Katy. “Jan's fluent. If not, someone will translate it for them. How should I start?”

“Well, remember its 1942 so it'll need to be formal, you know, old fashioned. You don't want to scare them so just stick to the facts.

Katy began to write,

Dear Mr and Mrs Dieter,

My name is Katy Parker. I am writing to you on behalf of your son, Jan. You have probably been told he is missing in action but do not be alarmed. He is safe and well. His plane crashed into a field near to where I live, in the town of Knutsburry, Cheshire. A group of us found him sheltering in an old barn and looked after him until the authorities arrived and took him away. We were told that he will be kept as a prisoner of war at the local camp and be put to work on a nearby farm, where he will be well looked after.

Best wishes,

Katy Parker

 

Chapter 7

Settling In

The next couple of weeks passed by in a blur; Katy and Patrick soon settled into their new routine. Every morning, Susie woke Katy up, usually by jumping vigorously up and down on her bed. Then they all began their chores. Life in 1942 was much more regimented than either Katy or Patrick had been used to. It was a real shock to the system having to be up every morning by half six at the latest. It seemed everyone had jobs to do; even Susie had to lay the table for breakfast.

It was Katy's job to feed the hens and collect any eggs that had been laid during the night.
Susie loved the hens and had a name for each one. Whilst Katy cleaned out their coop, Susie would sing songs to them, believing this made them lay more eggs.

Just after breakfast Charlie would appear, and they all walked to school together. Once school was over, they played out on the street with a gang of kids until Mrs Graham called them in for supper. Then it was homework, a radio show and bed by half eight! Katy had found this hard to believe at first, but in a strange way had almost started to enjoy it.

‘Nit Night' came as the biggest surprise of all. At first Katy hadn't understood what was going on.

“Come on Katy, you're first,” called Mrs Graham from the kitchen. Katy wandered into the kitchen expecting to be told to dry the dishes. Mrs Graham was laying a large piece of shiny, brown paper over the kitchen table.

“Sit down and lean your head over the paper.”

Katy looked confused. “But why?”

“I need to check for nits, of course. Now let's see what we can find, shall we?”

Mrs Graham began to comb Katy's hair carefully over the paper, as she looked for nits.

Once Katy and Patrick were safely in bed with the door shut, they shared stories about their school day.

“It was brilliant, today. Not like school at all. I worked with Charlie in the school garden, digging vegetable beds and collecting new potatoes for the kitchen. He's sort of the head gardener for the school, the real one got called up and there was no one left to replace him. He says he dreams of cabbages,” reported Patrick, happily. He seemed to be enjoying his time in the 1940s.

“That sounds like Charlie,” said Katy smiling.

“After lunch we had Mr Anderson for English; he must be at least eighty. You won't believe this but he actually fell asleep in class and sat snoring behind his newspaper! His glasses were perched on the end of his nose and whenever he did a particularly loud snore they almost fell off. Then he'd jerk himself awake, smile at us all, mutter, ‘Well done boys, that's the spirit,' and fall back to sleep! It was hilarious. We played cards and read comics all afternoon!”

Katy smiled to herself and said, “Sounds more fun than my day. We did French and Latin all morning,
then needlework this afternoon. Only Hillary makes it bearable. I hope her brother Mark is going to be OK. I keep thinking about the golden memorial plaques in the hall at school.”

Patrick looked puzzled, until Katy reminded him, “You know, the ones that commemorate all the former pupils who died in the war.”

“Do you think his name is there? You can't tell Hillary,” urged Patrick.

“That's just it, I've read them loads of times but I can't remember if his name is there or not. It makes me feel sick to think it might be. I'm glad Charlie is here. It seems safer with him around,” said Katy.

“I know, I'm glad he's here too,” replied Patrick. “It feels like nothing really bad can happen while he's around.”

“Do you think we should tell him? You know, about us and what's happened?” said Katy.

Patrick thought for a while then replied, “Better leave it for a bit, see if we can really trust him. It's a bit of a mad story for anyone to believe after all.”

Katy felt lost. What were they going to do? How would they ever make it home? They had been at Willow Dene for weeks now and there still was no
clear sign of what they were supposed to be doing there or how they might get back home.

Tears welled in her eyes as it all suddenly became too much for her. “We're never going to get out of here, Patrick. I just want to go home,” she sobbed.

Patrick was silent for a moment, staring at his sister who seemed to be falling apart at the seams. He took a deep breath. “Maybe you're right. Maybe we should tell Charlie. What have we got left to lose?”

Katy looked up, puffy eyed and through her broken sobs said, “Do you think so? We'll have to time it right.”

“Let's wait until we know him a bit better,” said Patrick, taking over as the older sibling and comforting Katy. “Once we've gained his trust a bit more, we can tell him.”

“And hopefully he won't think we're insane,” said Katy and they smiled at each other.

With that decided, they both rolled over, exhausted, and quickly fell asleep.

* * * *

On Saturday morning, Katy stretched lazily: enjoying the extra few minutes in bed, feeling refreshed and
rested after yet another good night's sleep. It was weird but the nightmares had completely stopped. She hadn't had a single one since their arrival in 1942. Katy shuddered at the mere thought of them. Fingers crossed, they'd gone for good.

Saturday was definitely the best day of the week in her opinion. It was the one day of the week they were allowed to sleep in till half past seven.

“You awake yet, Katy?” whispered Patrick.

“I am now,” said Katy grumpily. “I miss my lazy Saturdays, sleeping till lunchtime. But we'd better get moving or we'll be late for the film. The queue was massive last week – it went halfway down the street! I can't believe so many kids are at the cinema by half past nine in the morning.”

“What are we seeing? I liked that cowboy film last week,” replied Patrick.

“Frank said it's the usual cartoons first and then it's the new Disney film. Guess what it is? Dumbo!”

Patrick laughed out loud. “It's weird to think it's just been released. I didn't know it was so old!”

“I know! Remember us all watching it that Christmas ages ago? You couldn't stop crying,” giggled Katy.

“Shut up, it's a sad film – you cried too,” said Patrick, picking up his pillow and throwing it at her. “And remember Katy, don't give away the plot. You've got to act like it's the first time you've seen it. You keep slipping up: talking about things you shouldn't know.”

“I'll try. What time is Charlie calling for us?”

“Just after nine so we'd better get moving!”

* * * *

After the breakfast dishes had been cleared away and the jobs done, Mrs Graham shooed them out of the house on the understanding that they would not return before one o'clock for lunch. Even with a war on, kids seemed to have more freedom in the 1940s.

Soon, Katy and Patrick had been living at Willow Dene in 1942 for almost a whole month. On their fourth Sunday evening, they once again sat up in bed, trying to figure out what they were meant to do and why they had been sent here. Patrick felt certain they would return to their future when they had completed whatever task or mission they had been sent to complete. He seemed quite confident about this and Katy discovered a newfound respect for him.
He was no longer an annoying little brother to be avoided or teased but almost like a friend. How weird to like Patrick – whatever next?

Katy felt certain the answer was staring them in the face but they couldn't see it. What could it be?

 

Chapter 8

The Answer

Katy lay awake that night, desperate to figure out why they had been sent there and how they could get home. What could it possibly be? She racked her brains and stared into the darkness.

Suddenly, it was as if a bolt of lightning struck her. It was so obvious she couldn't believe it had taken her a month to work it out. Brimming over with both excitement and fear she crept quietly out of bed, desperate to wake Patrick and share her idea. Gently shaking him by the shoulder, she whispered urgently in his ear, “Patrick, wake up, it's important. I've figured this thing out once and for all.”