The Way Ahead (25 page)

A signal arrived from Goering to inform the
Fuehrer
that the
Luftwaffe
was bombing London.
Hitler
ranted about London, Churchill and the incompetence of Goering, who had promised as long ago as 1940 to bring Britain and its warmongering Prime Minister crawling to Berlin.

‘Ah, promises,
mein Fuehrer
,’ said a yes-man, ‘and the raid itself is quite unnecessary under the circumstances.’

‘Himmler, take that man’s name!’ raved the
Fuehrer
.

‘But,
mein Fuehrer
—’

‘Wait, yes.’ Hitler calmed down. His blue eyes, thought magnetic by some people and cold by others, showed a glint. ‘My scientists. Am I able to put my trust in them, or will they prove as incompetent as some of my generals?’

A rambling monologue developed, and his clique of yes-men listened like men who were collective in their faith, with not a sign that most hated each other.

OVER BREAKFAST IN
the house on Red Post Hill, the talk was about last night’s unexpected air raid. Mr Finch was present, convalescing at home while under orders from the Department to take a month off. Sammy, Susie, Paula, Phoebe and Daniel were all at the table, with Chinese Lady presiding as usual over the large family teapot. Eloise, Boots’s French-born daughter, always felt no photograph of her English grandmother was complete unless there was a teapot in the foreground. Eloise was sometimes able to get away from her duties in London to spend a weekend at home, where Chinese Lady’s teapot was always in evidence.

At the moment, the family matriarch was against talk about the air raid.

‘If no-one minds,’ she said, ‘I’d like to mention we talked about it before we went to bed last night and this morning it’s been on that wireless, which I had to turn off to save hearing it all through breakfast.’ Breakfast was porridge and toast, the toast spread with an imitation butter, made by Chinese Lady from a mixture of margarine, milk, Brown and
Poulson
’s cornflour, and a dash of salt. It passed with a push and made more of the margarine ration. The butter ration itself was kept for Sunday teas and anything a bit special. ‘I don’t know any wireless that goes on more than ours does about what we only need to hear once.’

‘That’s a good point, Maisie,’ said Mr Finch. ‘Perhaps we’re the victims of broadcasters who, when there’s nothing new to tell us, are compelled by the nature of their medium to endlessly repeat themselves, since under no circumstances must they fall silent.’

‘They could play a bit of nice music,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘but I don’t want you to worry about it or go writing to them, Edwin, not when you’re supposed to be resting.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of writing to the BBC, Maisie,’ said Mr Finch.

‘That’s good,’ said Chinese Lady, and gave him a little pat. ‘Wait till you’re a lot better.’

‘Was there any good news, Mum?’ asked Susie.

‘Well, there was talk about the meat ration being cut again,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘which I don’t suppose anyone could say was good news. I can’t think why the Government doesn’t grow more.’

‘More what, Grandma?’ asked Daniel.

‘More meat, like lamb and beef,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Grow it?’ said Daniel.

‘Now you know what I mean,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘There’s lots of empty fields in this country that could be used. I’ve seen a lot myself in my time,
especially
when I used to go on the train to Southend as a girl, and later when me and Edwin used to go all the way to Salcombe with Boots and Lizzy and their children. I never saw so many empty fields in all my life.’

‘You sure they weren’t sprouting carrots or cabbages?’ said Sammy.

‘There weren’t any cows or sheep on them, I can tell you that,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Granny, p’raps they’re all full up now,’ said Paula.

‘Well, there’s still places like Hyde Park and Peckham Rye,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘The Government could put cows and sheep on them, instead of letting people laze about on the grass.’ Noting Sammy was yawning, she said, ‘Might I ask if everyone had a good night’s sleep after the air raid?’

Phoebe’s soft brown eyes regarded Sammy.

‘Daddy, I fink you’re a bit tired,’ she said.

‘Don’t you worry, pet, I’ve got all me health and strength under lock and key, which I’ll open up when I get to the office,’ said Sammy.

‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Phoebe, ‘Paula and me wouldn’t like you not being able to go to work, Daddy.’

‘That’s right, Phoebe,’ said Daniel, ‘we all need your wages, Pa.’

‘What’s that?’ said Chinese Lady. ‘Daniel, did I hear you call your dad Pa?’

‘We all did, Mum,’ said Susie, ‘and out loud.’

‘It’s what Patsy calls her dad,’ said Daniel. ‘I think it’s catching,’ he murmured.

‘An Americanized diminutive,’ said Mr Finch.

‘Crumbs, what’s that, Paula?’ whispered Phoebe.

‘Oh, something foreign, I think,’ whispered Paula. ‘Granddad knows foreign languages.’

‘Well, whatever that is, Edwin, it sounds as common to me as Ma,’ said Chinese Lady and looked accusingly at Sammy.

Sammy, receiving the look without taking offence, said, ‘That reminds me, I’ve invited Patsy to tea on Sunday.’

‘That’s nice,’ said Susie, in favour of the bright American girl, even if she had once forgotten to wear a slip.

‘If I could get some fat shrimps?’ offered Sammy.

‘Americans have a happy relationship with shrimps,’ said Mr Finch, a little wan but still finding enjoyment in the family table talk. All his wife’s children and grandchildren had an aptitude for communicating with each other and with their immediate world.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Sammy, ‘I’ve got a few friends.’

‘Sammy,’ said Susie, ‘are we speaking of shady characters?’

‘Pardon, Susie?’ said Sammy. ‘Would you mean gents a bit dubious?’

‘Oh, lor’,’ murmured Paula, who knew her mum was against anything like that.

‘Sammy,’ said Susie, ‘you know exactly what I mean.’

‘I think Daddy’s for it now,’ whispered Paula to Phoebe.

‘Oh, crikey,’ breathed Phoebe.

Daniel was grinning all over. Nothing was more entertaining than listening to his priceless mum letting his versatile dad know that some of his friends left a lot to be desired. But, of course, whereas she saw them as dubious, his dad saw them as useful.

‘Well, Susie love,’ said Sammy, ‘I admit in my time I’ve bumped, accidental like, into one or two geezers who’ve been educated at Borstal, but—’

‘Edwin,’ said Chinese Lady, shocked, ‘did I hear right, did Sammy say that in front of the children?’

‘Maisie, to rub shoulders with all kinds and to remain the upright son of one’s mother, as Sammy has, can be considered a triumph for the way he’s been brought up,’ said Mr Finch without a flicker of his eyelashes.

‘And as I was going to point out,’ said Sammy, ‘it’s always been a principle of mine as a reputable businessman and the son of me revered Ma, not to consort as a friend with same geezers.’ He regarded his daughters confidingly. ‘If I see ’em coming, me pets, I cross the road, on account of knowing that’s what your highly respectable mum likes me to do.’

‘Little girls,’ said Susie to Paula and Phoebe, ‘d’you know what codswallop is?’

‘Mummy, I don’t fink it’s what we’re learning at school,’ said Phoebe.

‘You don’t need to,’ said Susie, ‘it’s what comes out of Daddy’s mouth nearly every day.’

Paula giggled.

Phoebe looked impressed.

‘Oh, could I learn some from Daddy?’ she asked eagerly. ‘I fink I’d like to.’

Outside the house, a car horn sounded.

‘That’s Uncle Tommy for me,’ said Daniel, still wearing a grin. Tommy picked him up and drove him to the Belsize Park factory every day. He also brought him home. ‘Let’s hear some more about Dad tonight, Mum,’ he said, pushing his chair back and getting up. ‘I’d like to learn about codswallop myself. I’ve got an idea it’s useful.’

‘Just push off, my lad,’ said Susie, ‘or you’ll learn something different that’ll put a flea in your ear.’

Daniel departed smiling, and when he and his Uncle Tommy reached the foot of Denmark Hill, they found a gang of workmen already busy around the damaged road and pavement. Two men were deep in the crater. There’s no end to what this war’s doing in the way of ruination here and all over Europe, thought Tommy. Like countless other people, he hoped the Germans were finding out from Allied bombing raids that ruination wasn’t exactly what Hitler had promised, and if they weren’t sorry about making him their Great-I-Am, then they were off their rockers.

‘How did Aunt Vi and cousin Alice take it last night?’ asked Daniel.

‘Well, your Aunt Vi’s ’ad a large share of it for years,’ said Tommy, driving past King’s College Hospital and towards the morning traffic at Camberwell Green. ‘She’s used to it. For Alice, it was her first experience of a heavy raid since being back from Devon, and it made her jumpy. Come to that, it still makes me jumpy.’

‘Same here,’ said Daniel.

‘That American girl,’ said Tommy, turning into Camberwell New Road to head for Vauxhall Bridge, ‘she’s got some pluck, I must say. Where’d you find her?’

Daniel related details of how he met Patsy.

‘Friendly girl,’ he said, ‘and I like her.’

‘Give the young lady me regards,’ said Tommy, ‘I like her pluck meself. How’s young Phoebe? What a little charmer, and who’d have believed how sad she was when your mum and dad first took her in, eh, my lad? Ruddy rotten time she had before that.’

‘She’s a little darling,’ said Daniel, ‘and if she’s not following Paula about, she’s having a giggly time with Dad. Has Alice got a heart-throb yet?’ His cousin Alice, Tommy’s eldest, was nineteen.

‘I think it’s Bristol University,’ said Tommy, passing cyclists on their way to work. ‘She’ll be going there in September. Well, she’s in love with education, which I never was, nor Vi. Nor your dad. Your Uncle Boots was the only one who had any real education, which is why he talks educated. I don’t suppose he’d have got to be a colonel otherwise, or married to your Aunt Polly. Your grandma still can’t believe she’s got a colonel and an upper class daughter-in-law in the fam’ly. Come to that, I suppose, your cousin Eloise is an ATS officer. Talk about the fam’ly moving in high places. There, look at that, Daniel. Nasty.’

A building, intact yesterday, lay a shattered and ugly mountain of bricks and girders.

‘It’s a sign, Uncle Tommy, that we’ve got to
invade
France and get at Hider’s back, or we’ll never end this rotten war,’ said Daniel.

‘Drop a line to Churchill,’ said Tommy.

‘I’ve an idea he already knows,’ said Daniel.

They chatted all the way to the Belsize Park factory, where Gertie Roper, the faithful charge-hand, greeted them with the news that the East End had caught it last night. Bleedin’ noisy it was, she said, excusing her French, and two of the seamstresses hadn’t turned up. Tommy said he hoped that didn’t mean they’d caught it too. The factory could make do with two hands absent. What it couldn’t stand was hearing that the missing workers were casualties.

‘Mister Tommy, you’re a caring soul,’ said Gertie, who’d been an angular and starved-looking woman when Tommy and Sammy had first known her. Good wages and bonuses, not only for her, but for her husband Bert, factory under-manager, had helped to turn her into a full-bodied woman, with two well-fed sons in the Services. ‘I’ll find out about them gals tonight,’ she said. ‘’Ere, Daniel, there’s a couple of machines want seeing to, like. Bert’s put two reserve machines in place. And, Mister Tommy, there’s a fault in one of them bales of rayon yarn for ATS reach-me-downs. It wants sendin’ back with a complaint form, and a request for a quick replacement. Could yer look after that today, Mister Tommy?’

‘Noted, Gertie,’ said Tommy. ‘I’ll phone the manufacturers first. We don’t want to get into a position that puts the ATS short of bloomers. It’ll make things awkward for them on windy days.’

‘Oh, the poor dears,’ said Gertie. It’s windy today and all.’ It was. Further, it was also chilly. May was in a bit of a temper, much as if it had quarrelled with April and taken a dislike to General Eisenhower, Commander of Overlord, who was in desperate need of good weather. ‘Still, can’t ’elp laughing at the thought, can we, Daniel?’

‘My imagination’s going up in smoke,’ grinned Daniel, and he and his uncle began work.

Bang went the front door knocker. Cassie answered the summons. Large and unwieldy Mrs Hobday, a smile on her face, was on her step. In view of the smile, Cassie supposed the loud knock hadn’t been unfriendly, just the consequence of her beefy-armed neighbour being naturally heavy-handed.

‘Oh, ’ello, dearie,’ said the fat lady, ‘I brought yer some fruit for yer kids, seeing they ain’t been jumping up and down on me doormat lately. Here we are.’ And she handed Cassie a calico bag with a drawstring. The bag was laden, and Cassie, opening it up, saw the golden gleam of oranges.

‘Oranges?’ said Cassie. ‘Oranges? Mrs Hobday, I haven’t seen as many as this since before the war.’

‘Jaffas, that’s them,’ beamed Mrs Hobday. ‘Me old man says they’re shipping some from the Middle East nowadays.’

‘Oh, thanks ever so much,’ said Cassie. ‘All these?’

‘Well, me old man works down at the Nine Elms shunt yards,’ said Mrs Hobday, ‘and now and again, like, a bit of this and that falls orf a goods waggon. He brought a lot of them oranges ’ome yesterday,
and
I thought some of ’em might be good for yer kids.’

‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ said Cassie.

‘Pleasure, ducky,’ said Mrs Hobday. ‘Mind, don’t tell the coppers. Here, did that noisy air raid frighten yer kids last night?’

‘It scared them, and I felt awful about having brought them home,’ said Cassie. ‘It was the first time they’d known an air raid. I thought raids were supposed to have stopped.’

‘Bleedin’ cheek of Hitler, that’s what I thought meself,’ said Mrs Hobday. ‘Me old man said it was the last kick of a dying donkey. Did you get yer kids into yer back-yard shelter all right?’

‘Yes, and we all cuddled up, and it didn’t last long, which was a blessed relief,’ said Cassie. ‘Thanks again for the oranges.’