Under the Apple Tree (2 page)

there’s your gran too, all by herself up in April Grove what

about her? Someone ought to go round to see if she’s

all right.’ She shook her head worriedly. ‘I just don’t know

what to do first. I don’t know what to do for the best. Oh

dear.’

‘I’ll go to Gran’s first, but I really ought to try to get to

work. There must be all kinds of stuff to sort out.’ Judy

gazed back helplessly, and Polly came to her rescue.

shelter.’ She turned back to Cissie and took her arm. ‘You and me and Dick’ll go to the church hall and see what’s

what, and Judy can come over once she’s found out what’s

going on. Come on - Dick’s getting shrammed with cold,

stood out here with all this dust getting down into his lungs

and all.’

Cissie stood undecided for a moment, then Dick coughed

again and she nodded. ‘You’re right, it’s not doing him no

good at all being out in this cold air with all this smoke

about.’ She glanced up at the blackened sky. ‘There’s still

places on fire, you can see the flames.’ A fresh thought

struck her and her voice began to rise again. ‘And look at us,

got nothing but what we’re standing up in - my best coat

gone, and that nice red frock you made yourself, Poll, and

that warm jumper I knitted Dick for Christmas. I don’t

know what we’re going to do, I don’t really.’

‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Polly said gently. ‘Come

on, let’s get down the hall into the warm, they’ll sort us out.

I dare say they’ve got clothes and other stuff. Come on, Cis.’

Cissie nodded. ‘All right. We can’t do nothing here, that’s

for certain.’ She took a deep breath and straightened her

shoulders. ‘Now then, Judy, you make sure you come back

the minute you can, and you will look in on your Gran,

won’t you? She ought to have come up to us like I wanted,

not stopped down there by herself where we don’t know

what’s happening to her … Dick, are you all right?’

He nodded, though he was holding his chest as if it

pained him. ‘This blasted dust, it’s everywhere. It’s plaster

dust, you know - it’s that fine it gets right down inside.’ He

coughed again and Cissie clicked her tongue. ‘Lot of use I’m going to be,’ he said bitterly. ‘Useless article.’

‘Now you’re not to talk like that,’ his wife said sharply.

‘You did your bit in the last lot, that’s why you’re like this

now. Come on, we’re going down the church hall; they’ll

have somewhere to sit down there and a nice hot cup of tea.

That’s what we all need.’ She started to move away, her

hand hooked firmly through her husband’s arm, and then

turned back to Judy. ‘You do whatever you can for your

gran, Judy, and come back once you’ve found out what’s

happening. If we get sent on anywhere else we’ll make sure

the people at the hall know the address.’

Judy watched them go, torn with doubt. She wanted to

support her mother and help her father and she was racked

with fear for her grandmother, all alone in her own small

terraced house. But as well as her concern for the family

there was her loyalty to her job at the Guildhall offices and

her anxiety for the people who spent the nights there - the

Lord Mayor himself, who had moved in when the bombing

started, and the ARP staff. What had happened to them, if

the Guildhall had been destroyed?

She turned and made her way through the streets, passing

groups of people scrabbling through the debris in search of

possessions or — even worse — for family members or

neighbours who had been buried. At every turn, she longed

to stop and help, but you couldn’t help everyone and her

fears for her grandmother grew. Suppose she hadn’t gone to

the shelter - suppose her house had been bombed before she

could get out - suppose the Anderson itself had had a direct

hit! Everyone knew they couldn’t stand up to that. Suppose

back and had to find a different way through streets and alleyways she had never seen before, until she began to

despair of ever finding a route out of this nightmare.

At last, when she had almost given up hope, she found

herself in September Street, at the top of October Street

which led down to April Grove, and she broke into a run.

There had been some damage here - slates torn off,

windows smashed in, and towards the bottom of the street a

whole house ripped to pieces, leaving a smoking gap

between its neighbours. Her heart in her mouth, Judy came

to the little row of houses that ran along the end and then let out a long breath of relief when she saw that the street had

been virtually undamaged.

She came to the front door, varnished and polished by

her father just before the war had started, and hammered on

it, calling at the top of her voice. ‘Granny! Gran - it’s me,

Judy. Are you there? Are you all right?’

‘She ain’t there, love.’ The voice brought her whipping

round, to stare in dismay at the wrinkled face of the old

woman who lived next door. Then the crumpled lips

stretched into a toothless grin. ‘She’s gorn round the church

hall, see if she can ‘elp out a bit. Got all the bombed people

there, they ‘ave, givin’ ‘em soup and cupsa tea and that. I

told her, I could do with a cuppa meself after the night we

bin through, but she never bit. Anyway, thass where she’s

gorn.’ She blinked her rheumy eyes at Judy. ‘You don’t feel

like a cuppa tea, I s’pose?’

Judy shook her head. ‘I’m on my way to work, Mrs

Kinch, but I wanted to make sure Gran was all right first.

I’d better go and see if I can find her.’

She ran back up to October Street. The church hall was

about a quarter of a mile away, across the railway line and past the shops. It was crowded with people, all looking

bewildered and lost, but she caught sight of the brisk little

figure standing behind a long trestle table, wielding a teapot, and pushed her way through the throng.

‘Gran! I’ve been looking for you! Mrs Kinch said you’d

be here. We were worried.’

Alice Thomas looked round and gave her granddaughter

a quick nod. ‘Judy. I was wondering about you, too thought

I’d come up and see once I’d finished here, but the

rate we’re going it don’t look as if we’re ever going to finish.

Must be thousands bombed out, thousands … How d’you

get on down home? Any damage round your way? I hear the

Guildhall’s on fire, and the Landport Drapery Bazaar,

where young Jean Foster works, and God knows what else

down Commercial Road.’

Judy stared at her miserably. ‘Gran, the house was

bombed. Everything’s gone - everything. Mum and the

others have gone to our church hall — we’ve got nowhere to

go. All we’ve got left is the Anderson!’ She began to cry,

covering her face with her hands, swept by sudden

desolation. ‘Oh Gran.”

Her grandmother put down her teapot and came quickly

round the end of the table. She laid her arm round Judy’s

shoulders and led her back behind the table, pushing her

gently down on a pile of blankets. ‘You sit there, love, and

I’ll get you a cup of tea. I don’t suppose you’ve had a thing

to eat yet, have you?’

Judy shook her head. ‘There wasn’t anything to have.

And no kettle or anything. Oh Gran, what are we going to

do?’ She gestured helplessly round the hall. ‘All these

people — all of us with nowhere to go and nothing left but

done that! Now, you drink that up and you’ll feel better, and

then you can give me a hand here.’

Judy shook her head. The tea was hot and warming, and

she barely noticed the sweetness. She drew in a long,

sobbing breath, then said, ‘I can’t stop, Gran, I’ve got to try to get to work. Goodness knows how long it’ll take me - it’s

terrible out there - but I’ve got to try. And I must find

Mum and Dad and Polly first, to tell them you’re OK. If we

can come to you for a few nights, while we get sorted

out…’

‘Few nights nothing!’ Alice said smartly. ‘You’ll come for

the duration. They won’t find you nothing better, I can tell

you that, not with all these other people needing a place.

Now, you’re not leaving here without a bit of food inside

you. There’s some bread and marge at the end of the table,

and another cup of tea wouldn’t do you any harm.’

‘No thanks, Gran, but I’ll take the bread to eat on the

way.’ Judy pulled herself to her feet and bent to give her

grandmother a kiss. ‘I’ll see you later, back in April Grove.

Don’t overdo it, mind.’

‘Cheek!’ Alice said, poking out her tongue. ‘I could give

you youngsters the runaround any day. Mind you tell your

mum and dad what I said, now. I’ll expect you all for tea at

number nine.’ She filled her teapot from the steaming urn

and turned back to the queue. ‘Now then, love, you drink

this. It’s nice and sweet, good for shock. You’ll feel all the

better for it…’

Judy headed for the exit and set off back to the hall where

her mother and father would have gone. After that, she’d get

down to Commercial Road and try to find out what was

happening at the Guildhall, and where the office staff

should be going.

Back outside, it seemed like hours since they had crawled out of the Anderson shelter to find the house blown into

oblivion. Yet the sky was still darkened by the pall of

stinking smoke, and the streets were still crowded with

people, wandering bewildered and stunned by all that had

happened during that terrible night. It was as if day had

decided not to break, as if the sun had taken one look at

what was happening and turned away its face.

The sun would come back though, she thought. It would

come back when the sky had cleared, and let light back into

their lives. As Polly had said, they weren’t going to let the

Germans beat them. They wouldn’t give them the chance.

The sight that greeted her as she came down Commercial Road took her breath away.

By then, she’d seen enough damage and heard enough

stories to have a fair idea of what was happening. But she

still wasn’t prepared for the scene of total devastation here the great shops nothing more than smoking ruins, the road

swarming with firemen and police and ARP wardens, the

knots of stunned bystanders - and the few shops that hadn’t

been hit, open and with counter staff valiantly trying to

carry on as if nothing had happened.

Worst of all was the Guildhall itself. The great, proud

building on the square was still ablaze, its bell tower sending flames high into the sky, shot with flashes of brilliant green

fire as the copper of the cupola melted and ran down the tall

stone pillars. Judy stopped where she was, on the opposite

side of the square, and stared at it. Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Terrible, innit,’ said a man standing nearby. ‘Just

terrible. They’ll never be able to put it back, you know, not

like it was. The whole of Pompey’s bin ruined. Never be the

same again, never.’

‘But what happened to the people inside?‘Judy whispered.

‘The Lord Mayor was sleeping there, so that he could always

: on hand if he was needed. And there were staff, and

firewatchers on the roof. What happened to them all?’

The man shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. Mind, I did hear as

they’d all gone out to Southsea, took over a hotel or

summat. Fine time to go on their holidays!’ He snorted

derisively.

Judy stared at him, then turned away. She started to cross

the square but was held back by a large policeman. ‘Sorry, love, you can’t go over there, it’s dangerous. We got enough to

contend with here, without sightseers getting under our feet.

What you doing here anyway? Ain’t you got no home to go to?’

‘As a matter of fact, I haven’t,’ Judy said, suddenly angry.

‘We were bombed out last night, like a lot of other people.’

She ignored his embarrassed flush and went on quickly, ‘I

work in there - or did till yesterday. I came down to see

what I could do. Is it true the Lord Mayor’s gone out to

Southsea? Is he all right? Are all the staff safe?’

The policeman shook his head. ‘I don’t know about the

staff, love, they ain’t told us nothing. The Mayor’s all right, I do know that, but what I heard was he’d gone up Cosham.’

He lifted his head as someone gave a yell from across the

square. ‘Look, you can see we’re busy, love, just be a good

girl and get out of the way, will you? And all you others

too,’ he added, raising his voice to include the rest of the

crowd. ‘Go and give a hand to someone what needs it there’s

plenty of clearing up to be done.’ He turned away

and the crowd began to shuffle off, muttering.

Judy stood wondering what to do next. Southsea and

Cosham were at opposite ends of the city. Someone must

know, she thought. And wherever the Mayor was, he’d need

his staff, the secretaries and office workers who knew where

everything was kept. Her heart skipped as it suddenly struck

her that the offices themselves must have been destroyed,

and everything in them. The papers, the files, the typewriters

- everything the city depended on to keep it