The TV Time Travellers (5 page)

‘Well, don’t you call me Isobel in here,’ I said. ‘This is our private place.’

‘Oh, I think I should,’ she giggled. ‘Keep up the illusion.’

‘I’ve told all the other evacuees to call me Izzy,’ I insisted. ‘And I shan’t answer to anything else.’

She laughed again. ‘Oh, you are funny getting all upset about a silly thing like that.’ She looked at me. ‘It’s not easy being you, is it?’

‘How do you mean?’ I asked
.

‘Well, you get uptight about such silly little things, like your name. Oh well, a few days with me and you’ll feel so relaxed and happy. I cheer everyone up.’

Then she smiled a smile which seemed to fill the whole bedroom; in fact there didn’t seem any space left for me. I knew if I stayed in this room any longer I’d only say something I regretted. And I just had to keep my temper – as I didn’t want Little Miss Sunshine nominating me to leave
.

I even had to pretend to like her. So I said, as brightly as I could, ‘I’m sure you and I will have a good time together.’

‘Oh, we will,’ she cried. ‘It’s going to be so fantastic.’

I fled to the bathroom. Only I couldn’t find one on our floor – and then we were called down to tea in the kitchen. Those scones had been delicious and I was looking forward to something even tastier. But a rather embarrassed-looking Mrs Benson announced to us, ‘I’ve been told off for cooking you all those scones. And I can’t give you the welcome tea I’d planned; it’s all got to be prepared according to wartime rationing.’

‘Excuse me,’ said Zac, ‘but we’re in 1939 and rationing didn’t come in until January the eighth, 1940.’

‘He’s right,’ cried Leo at once
.

‘You don’t know.’ I grinned at him
.

‘Shush,’ said Leo
.

For a moment Miss Weed and Mr Wallack both looked distinctly taken aback by Zac’s pronouncement. Finally, Miss Weed said, ‘You’re quite right, Zac, about when rationing started. But we’re accelerating you through the war, to give you the total experience. So rationing starts now.’

Mrs Benson actually blushed as she brought in our tea – and well she might. It was the most gruesome meal I’d ever seen. It consisted of scrambled eggs – made from powdered eggs – which tasted of absolutely nothing other than dried cardboard, and then a lovely big helping of raw cabbage salad
.

‘There’s more cabbage salad if anyone wants any,’ said Mrs Benson. I would have laughed for several months if my stomach hadn’t been turning belly-flops at even the sight of such disgusting fare
.

Amazingly, Harriet and Zac were actually eating it enthusiastically. Harriet said it was ‘tremendous’. And Zac said he thought powdered eggs tasted even better than the real ones. But Barney and Leo were picking at their food. I started making faces at them at how awful it tasted
.

Suddenly Wally, who was sitting at the head of the table (where else?), barked, ‘You have to draw attention to yourself, don’t you, Isobel?’

‘No, it’s just I can’t eat this food.’ Then I
put
my knife and fork down and added, ‘Now I’ve finished.’

There was a shocked silence from both Miss Weed and Wally, as if I’d said something really bad. And even Mrs Benson, who’d come in to ask if anyone wanted any more, had a stunned look on her face
.

‘We’re fighting a war,’ said Miss Weed. ‘Food is very scarce and cannot be wasted. You will eat everything that is on your plate.’

I opened my mouth to protest, but Miss Weed said, ‘I am not debating this with you. You will not waste your tea.’

Then Wally added ominously, ‘You’ve already had one warning today.’ So I shovelled the foul food quickly into my mouth, my stomach shuddering at every fresh forkful
.

When I’d finished Miss Weed said, with a grim little smile, ‘I won’t ask if you want seconds.’

Potato cakes and jam were brought in next. These looked better, but Leo – who tried one first – whispered to me, ‘They taste rank.’

So when Miss Weed offered me one, I
said
quietly but firmly, ‘Thank you, but I’m full now.’ And Miss Weed didn’t say any more
.

When the meal was over I asked Mrs Benson where the bathroom was
.

‘The thing is,’ said Mrs Benson, ‘and perhaps you’d all like to know this, our house – in common with many wartime homes – does not have a bathroom.’

‘What do you do if you want a bath?’ I asked
.

‘Baths are once a week. There’s a very nice tin bath in the kitchen, and you can take it in turns to use that.’

Farmer Benson smiled at our shocked faces. ‘You haven’t heard the best of it yet. We don’t have an indoor toilet either.’

‘I suppose we go to the loo once a week in the tin bath too,’ said Leo
.

‘Oh no,’ cried Solly. ‘You’ve got to hold it in for three whole weeks. That’s what I’ll do anyway.’

Mrs Benson smiled warmly at Solly – he was definitely her favourite evacuee. ‘We have a perfectly good lavatory outside,’ she said
.

‘Outside!’ we all echoed
.

‘Oh, it’s not far,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘In fact, it’s a pleasant little stroll to what we call the lavvy. It’s a flush lavvy, as well.’

‘And they were still rare in the war years, weren’t they?’ said Zac
.

‘Oh, yes, you were considered quite a toff if you had one,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘But come and see for yourselves.’ He led us evacuees and Miss Weed quite proudly to it. ‘Now, just one word of caution,’ he said. ‘The lock doesn’t always work.’

‘How cosy,’ I murmured
.

Farmer Benson said, ‘So if you would be so kind as to give a firm tap on the door first. And maybe call out something too. Then listen carefully, and if you don’t hear an answering call from inside, you’ll know it’s safe to proceed – simple really.’

‘But what about if you need to go in the night?’ asked Barney
.

Miss Weed took over. ‘There will be a chamber pot under your bed for such emergencies.’ She went on, ‘And if you need to perform Number Two’ – Barney and Leo immediately started sniggering –
‘then
come out of your bedroom and say loudly, but without shouting, “I need to perform Number Two”. I shall be sleeping downstairs, and Farmer Benson or myself will accompany you.’

‘That is so gross,’ I cried
.

‘But,’ said Farmer Benson, smiling away as if he was about to tell us a joke, ‘I’m afraid toilet paper was not in general use at that time, and we also had to save paper. But fear not, we’ll have some newspaper cut up and hanging on a hook by the side, some featuring authentic headlines of the day.’

‘So we can read as we wipe,’ said Leo
.

‘Oh, very good,’ grinned Farmer Benson. ‘I like that – a little bit of humour gets you through most situations, doesn’t it? And you are getting the real-life experience of many evacuees.’

‘Which tomorrow,’ added Miss Weed, ‘will include a full day’s lessons – and, of course, evacuees were expected to earn their keep. So you’ll be called at . . . half past five.’

‘Half past five!’ I cried. ‘Even roosters aren’t up that early.’

‘I’m afraid you will be,’ said Miss Weed. ‘Half past five sharp, tomorrow.’

‘As it’s your first night here, we’re letting you off your chores tonight,’ said Farmer Benson
.

‘But I’d like to do some chores tonight,’ cried Zac. It was really hard to tell who was the biggest suck-up, him or Harriet
.

After we’d taken it in turns to visit the outdoor lavvy, everyone – except Zac – trooped off to bed
.

Harriet found our chamber pot and Mrs Benson had also placed a china wash bowl and a large jug of water on the washstand in our bedroom. This was for us to wash ourselves. I started muttering more to myself than to Harriet, ‘Talk about living in the old days.’

Suddenly I thought longingly of my bedroom – and my mum. About now we’d be— but I immediately stopped thinking about all that and told myself I was being a wimp. I only had to stick it out here for three weeks, and if I could swallow a plateful of raw cabbage salad, I could put up with anything
.

Then I noticed something hideous,
apart
from Harriet. Deep black material had been plastered all over the window. ‘Why on earth have they done that?’ I demanded
.

‘This is to protect us in the night,’ replied Harriet. ‘For one little chink of light could guide an enemy bomber to us. Do you understand that?’ she added, as if I was completely thick
.

A couple of minutes later Miss Weed came in and told us to switch the lights out. And then our room was plunged into darkness: heavy, thick darkness which seemed to loom over me. Suddenly I felt shut in. Trapped
.

I jumped up into the bed, my heart racing
.

‘Now what’s wrong, noisy?’ asked Harriet
.

‘Oh, nothing, it’s just that the blackout makes this room so dark.’

‘People had to put up with it exactly like this in the war, and for years and years too,’ said Harriet in such a patronizing voice that I snapped
.

‘I know, but I haven’t been in the war before. This is all new to me and I was
just
commenting that I don’t like it as dark as this.’

Then Harriet started making chicken noises. She really was a total idiot
.

‘If you don’t shut up, I’ll punch your lights out.’ Then I stopped in alarm. I’d only been here a few hours and already I was starting a row
.

But luckily Harriet thought I was joking and she put her head back and laughed. ‘Proper little firebrand, aren’t you? I shall have to watch you.’

‘Yes,’ I said feebly, biting my tongue like mad
.

‘Still, it’s all good, babe, isn’t it! It’s all good.’ And she laughed again. One of her really loud ones which bounced all round the room
.

I closed my eyes tight and thought, If I were given the choice of sharing a room with Harriet or a family of cockroaches – the cockroaches would win every single time
.

CHAPTER SEVEN

News of the Other Evacuees

Zac

IT HAD BEEN
a fantastic evening, but the best part was definitely assisting Farmer Benson with his chores.

Cold dark rain had been beating against the windows all evening, but now it had finally stopped, so the air felt magically fresh and clear. And there were so many other smells too all mixed up together, like chickens and straw, and yes, all right, manure.

I breathed them all in as deeply as I could, while Farmer Benson told me that in the morning I could collect the eggs and he’d teach me how to milk a cow.
Next,
I helped him check none of the rooms were showing a light.

‘In the war,’ I said, ‘neighbours threw stones at the windows of people who kept on showing lights.’

‘Well, I never knew that before,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘You’re a mine of information about those days, aren’t you?’

He sounded highly impressed. And that’s when I started playing a brand-new game. I began pretending I wasn’t just here for three weeks for a TV show. No, I was a proper evacuee and this was going to be my home for years and years. I loved imagining that. It made me feel my life was all sorted out.

Then I asked a question. ‘Earlier, you started telling us something about the other evacuees . . . what was that?’

‘Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘But I don’t suppose the world will spin off its axis if I tell you. We’re having a bit of a get-together on Sunday for some of the people who were evacuated here seventy years ago. And we’re hoping both the lads who lived on this farm will be amongst them.’

‘That’s incredible!’ I cried. ‘To meet the very evacuees who lived on this farm all those years ago.’

‘I must look out those pictures of the two boys for you . . . although they’ll have changed quite a bit since then, I’m sure. Anyway, you’d better get off or Miss Weed will be after me. We have an early start tomorrow, you know.’

I sped up those stairs and was on the way to my bedroom when I heard Solly Seal call out, ‘Hey, Zachedimus or whatever your name is, come in here.’

I went into Solomon and Barney’s tiny but excellent bedroom (I would have loved that room myself). Barney was in bed. And Solly was perched on his arm. In that dim light Solly seemed more real than ever.

‘Now, what,’ asked Solly, tilting his head to one side, ‘have you been doing?’

‘Oh, just having a look round the farm. You’re very lucky being able to bring Solly with you, Barney.’

‘I insisted,’ said Barney. ‘I said, if you want me you must have my comedy partner too.’

‘Actually,’ called out Solly in his cheeky, high-pitched voice, ‘I was the one they really wanted.’

‘I also,’ said Barney, ‘gave out strict instructions that Solomon must never be put away in a cupboard or a drawer, because he couldn’t breathe in there. So if ever he’s not with me he must be allowed to lie on my bed or sit out on a table.’