The TV Time Travellers (18 page)

And I felt a bit cheated that I hadn’t seen the evacuee adventure through. I’d like to have found out what the very special group challenge Wally had mentioned was going to be. And although I’d hated being bossed about and all the endless chores, I’d really liked testing myself – and sharing it all with such great friends
.

Now everything was over
.

A woman from
Strictly Evacuees
came with us on the train. She was the one we’d seen yesterday when Harriet was supposed to leave. When I asked her about our mobiles she just gazed at us stonily and said they had been handed over to our families. She wasn’t in the least bit friendly
.

Later, Harriet, Leo and I all fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until the train pulled into Paddington station. And all I could think of was my mum. I couldn’t wait to see her again
.

Next I remember stumbling off the train, still a bit bleary-eyed from being asleep. And then Harriet suddenly calling out, ‘Look!’

And there waiting for us weren’t just our families – no, the whole place was crammed and roaring with reporters and other people yelling out stuff, and flashbulbs exploding while we raced towards our families
.

Mum hugged me hard, and then she showed me the front page of one of the newspapers. Plastered across was a picture of us evacuees with the headline:

CHILDREN STOP REALITY SHOW. TELEVISION HISTORY WAS MADE LAST NIGHT WHEN A GROUP OF CHILDREN DEFIED A REALITY SHOW TO STAND UP FOR THEIR FRIEND
.

‘But how  . . .?’ I burst out excitedly. ‘I mean
, Strictly Evacuees
didn’t broadcast any of this on the show.’

‘Ah yes, but enough people had already watched it live on their computers,’ said Mum
.

‘Oh, I’d forgotten about that,’ I cried
.

‘And then there have been so many discussions on the internet about it ever since,’ went on Mum
.

‘People have been discussing us?’ I whispered incredulously
.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d thought it was all over. But no, my mad roller-coaster ride was still going on. And now I’d ended up at Paddington station, surrounded by the press and people shrieking, ‘Well done!’ and ‘Congratulations!’ at me. And then Mum was telling me how someone from the BBC was here to whisk us off to the studios, as we
were
all going to appear on the news
.

‘Whoa, this can’t be real,’ I cried. ‘This is mad, amazing. It must be another trick from
Strictly Evacuees.’
But then I saw the woman from
Strictly Evacuees
slink past us, hissing anxiously into a mobile. Leo called over to me, ‘The world has gone crazy, as my mum’s just said I’ve done something right. In fact, she says we’re kind of heroes. And if that doesn’t make you laugh for a week, nothing will.’ He punched the air. ‘Come on!’ he cried. ‘Come on!’ I grinned at him, but I couldn’t speak. It was all just overwhelming
.

Then Harriet tried to introduce me to her boyfriend: a tall, blond-haired guy in a leather jacket called Jeremy. But there was only time to say ‘Hi’ as I was half running to the BBC cars now, with Mum’s arm firmly round me. And then there was another surprise – a brilliant one. Waiting by the cars were Barney and Solly. I hugged both of them madly
.

‘Are you coming to the studio too?’ I asked
.

‘We couldn’t miss out on this,’ said Barney. ‘And trust you to have all the fun
after
we’d gone. Then Solly whispered in my ear, ‘I was cheering you on yesterday. You’re mint.’ And as we dived into the cars Barney asked suddenly, ‘Where’s Zac?’

I explained about him staying on – and then wondered, was something incredible about to happen to him too? Was his dream of living permanently on that farm about to come true?

I so hoped it was
.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Another Reunion

Zac

I WAS WAITING
so impatiently for Victor.

A huge table of food had been prepared in his honour. No wartime rationings either. I was allowed to sample the cake. And it seemed so long since I’d tasted chocolate cake, I had to try a second piece as well. Mrs Benson was sure Victor wouldn’t mind.

I stared at the huge banner which said:
WELCOME HOME VICTOR
. How incredible to return home after more than sixty years!

The farm itself seemed very quiet. I was surprised how much I missed
the
other evacuees, especially Leo. ‘Whenever I want to do Number Two in the night,’ he’d said to me, ‘I’ll think of you.’ I would definitely invite him to come and visit. And he could have all his holidays here on the farm. My farm.

Then I heard a taxi draw up. ‘Is that Victor?’ I asked.

Farmer Benson looked out of the window. He seemed surprisingly anxious. He gave me a tense smile. ‘You go and be the greeter.’ I think Farmer Benson had suddenly gone rather shy. Who’d have thought it?

‘Of course I will,’ I said. ‘And don’t worry, everything will be great. Well, you know how easy Victor is to get along with.’

I tore outside. I thought Victor would be pleased I was still in my evacuee clothes. He’d say— Then I froze in horror. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t Victor getting out of that car – it was my dad.

And in a flash I saw all my dreams just rush away. I couldn’t really escape my old life, could I? Farmer Benson had just
been
humouring me, no doubt saying, ‘I’ll tell the boy anything until his dad takes him off our hands.’

And now I was being sent back to the same miserable existence as before.

‘What are you doing here? You should be in Paris?’ I shouted crossly at my dad. I’m not normally so rude, but right then I felt all tight and hollow inside.

‘I never went to Paris in the end,’ said Dad. ‘Been a bit under the weather actually.’ He gave a nervous smile. ‘You’ve got some colour in your cheeks at last.’ But Dad looked terrible, even worse than before. His face was a deathly pale colour now. Even his hair had gone very wispy and thin. I didn’t like seeing him so ill. It worried me. But he’d totally abandoned me, so he wasn’t my responsibility any more. I was totally unconnected from him now.

But still he’d come to take me back to Aunt Sara’s, like some miserable gaoler. Anger and pain were swamping me now; that’s why I suddenly sped away from him and ran upstairs to what I’d really believed would be my bedroom for years
and
years. Then I buried my face in the pillow. I didn’t want to see him or anyone ever again. I just wanted to hide away here, totally on my own.

But, of course, that didn’t happen. First the Bensons came in, very softly as if I was an invalid or something.

‘Zac,’ called Farmer Benson. ‘How are you doing, lad?’ Same warm friendly voice as before. But I pretended I couldn’t hear him. He’d betrayed me – that’s what it felt like.

Then I heard Dad’s voice and Mrs Benson saying to him, ‘I expect you’d like a cup of tea after your long journey.’

‘That would be super,’ replied my dad. Then he added, ‘Could you leave Zac and me on our own for a moment, please?’

‘Of course, of course,’ said Farmer Benson. Then he added, ‘Been such a hard worker on the farm – best worker I’ve ever had, in fact.’

‘I know,’ said Dad. ‘I’ve been watching him, especially with his favourites: the pigs.’

‘Oh, yes, he loves the pigs,’ said Farmer
Benson
, ‘and they’ve taken quite a shine to him too – well, I’ll leave you now.’

I was so astonished at what I’d just heard Dad say that I sat up. ‘You’ve been watching
Strictly Evacuees
?’ I said incredulously.

‘Practically the whole time, on my computer,’ said Dad.

‘Funny,’ I said. ‘I never thought of you having any time to watch me.’

I’d meant because he was supposed to be at meetings in Paris, but Dad’s face twisted with pain at my last comment. Then he said, ‘If you want to stay on here for a few days, well, the Bensons would love to have you. They told me that.’

‘And you don’t mind?’

He didn’t answer at first, then said in a strange, low voice, ‘Of course I mind, but if that’s what you want . . .’

For days I’d been certain it was. Now I wasn’t quite so sure. But I said loudly, as if to quieten my doubts, ‘Yes, it is.’

He moved towards the door. I thought he was going to leave. I wanted him to – and yet I didn’t.

‘Zac,’ he said suddenly, almost yelling
my
name as if I was already a long, long way from him. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘When I lost your mother—’

‘When
we
lost her,’ I shouted. ‘When we lost her.’ The anger in my voice tore around the room. ‘I lost her too, you know.’

He looked really shocked. ‘I know,’ he said at last.

‘Well, it’s the first time you’ve mentioned it,’ I said accusingly. ‘And I miss her every hour of every day. I look for her sometimes too, you know, as I still think she’s going to come back, and I want her to come home so much.’ I swallowed a lump in my throat. ‘I so want to tell her about Leo and Barney and Izzy and Harriet; I know she’d like them, especially Leo. And I want her to meet them too. I want that so much. But it can never, ever happen now.’ Tears fell from my eyes and Dad jumped up to comfort me. But I immediately sprang away from him and curled myself into a ball. ‘I want you to go away now,’ I mumbled.

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he just sat down again.

Half to myself I muttered, ‘I’ve been so sad and unhappy and you didn’t even notice, because you don’t care. You just abandoned me.’

‘That’s not true,’ he whispered.

‘Yes, it is,’ I murmured.

He paused and said quietly, ‘Zac, when we’ – he emphasized the word ‘we’ now – ‘lost your mum, I couldn’t face anything. It just overwhelmed me. And when I thought about life without her . . . this dead, empty feeling just seemed to sink into me.’

I sat up. It was very hard to see Dad because my eyes were so blurred, but I choked out hoarsely, ‘That’s exactly what happened to me too. Exactly.’

Dad reached out and took my hand. I’d meant to pull away from him, but somehow I didn’t. He went on, ‘I know I threw myself back into work far too much. But it was all I could cope with somehow. I could lose myself in that.’

‘I suppose,’ I said, ‘it’s a bit like me
and
the Second World War. I like it so much because it helps me forget about everything else.’ Then I added, ‘Victor said I got so interested in the past because I wanted to escape from the present. Is that what you were doing too?’

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I was doing, Zac. But I really had no idea you were so unhappy at your Aunt Sara’s.’

‘Well, you should have done,’ I cried, very angry again for a moment and nearly – but not quite – pulling my hand away from him.

‘I know that, and I’m very, very sorry; but for a while there, the pain just seemed to swallow me up. And I couldn’t see anything else.’

There was a silence for a moment before I cried eagerly, ‘You know what you need now, Dad? A holiday. So why not have one here? I know Farmer and Mrs Benson wouldn’t mind and, well, it could be really good.’

‘That’s an inspired idea, Zac.’

‘And after the holiday, Dad,’ I went on, ‘we can go back to . . . Mum would
want
us to go home again, wouldn’t she?’

Dad looked right at me. ‘And we will, Zac. We will.’ Then he pulled me into a hug which practically crushed me.

We went on holding onto each other until Mr Benson called up to us.

Dad and I went to the top of the stairs.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ called up Mr Benson. ‘But I just thought you’d like to know that your friends are on the television at this very moment.’

‘Oh, excellent!’ I cried.

Dad and I raced downstairs and into the living room. The last time I’d been in here we’d been sitting around having a Second World War family night. The room didn’t look all that different, although there was now a large television in the corner. Farmer and Mrs Benson were standing and watching it with rapt attention. We stood alongside them.

All the evacuees – except me, of course – were being interviewed by News 24. Izzy was saying, ‘And I know I’ve made friends for life.’

‘If not even longer,’ quipped Leo.

‘And that’s why,’ went on Izzy, ‘we
couldn
’t let Zac be treated like that. He’s our friend, and so we had to stand up for him.’

‘Very well put,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘And look at them, all talking away without any sign of nerves at all. TV naturals, they are.’

‘They’re fantastic,’ I said. ‘And I’m so happy I met them.’

‘You’ll see them all again very soon,’ said Dad, who had an arm lightly round my shoulder. That sounded exactly like a promise.

And then we heard another taxi roll up the drive.

I looked at Dad. ‘That’s Victor and he—’

‘He was an evacuee here in 1939 and stayed for the whole of the Second World War,’ interrupted Dad.

‘You really have been watching me,’ I said approvingly. ‘I’d better go and greet him,’ I added.