Under the Apple Tree (25 page)

killed and hundreds more injured. Once again, the Emergency

Centres were busy finding homes for those who had

been bombed out.

Cissie and her mother crept out of their Anderson soon

after dawn. April Grove had escaped damage, and people all

along the row of long, narrow gardens leading to the

allotments were making their way up their paths, hoping the

gas was on so that they could make tea. Cissie went straight

through the house to the front, hoping to see Polly and Judy

coming home. Alice followed her.

There were quite a few people out there already. Frank

Budd, who had spent the night firewatching, was already

setting off to go to work in the Dockyard and Tommy

Vickers was coming down the street, stumbling a little with

weariness. The two men paused for a moment and Alice and

Cissie joined them.

‘Bad night,’ Frank said, shaking his head. ‘There’ll be all

sorts of damage done. You could read a newspaper by the

light of the flames. I suppose it was the city centre and the

Yard got it worst again.’

Tommy looked at him. Usually a bright, cheery man with

a quip for every occasion, he looked, as Frank put it later,

‘proper done in’. His eyes were red-rimmed with smoke and

fatigue, his face drawn and grey. He rubbed a hand across

his face.‘I just come from Powerscourt Road. There’ve been more bombs there.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Kids - boys — in

the cellar of one of those houses that were bombed last year.

Where young Kathy Simmons lived before she come to

October Street.’ His voice was trembling a little. ‘Reckon

they had some sort o’ den there - you know what boys are.

Collecting stuff - shrapnel, that sort of thing.’ He took a

deep breath while Frank stared at him. ‘Seems like they had

a bomb in there with them - unexploded. They must have

found it and took it there.’ He stopped.

‘A bomb?’ Frank said. ‘Why, the silly young fools. Didn’t

they realise it could go off at any time?’ He stopped and

looked more closely at Tommy. ‘What is it, Tom? What

happened?’

‘The place was hit again,’ Tommy said wearily, ‘and the

bomb went off as well. They’d got out of the cellar, they

were out in the garden when it went, but… He looked at

Frank and the women as if begging them to say it wasn’t

true. ‘They were youngsters from round here, that’s the

worst of it. That Micky Baxter. And young Jimmy Cross.

And that little Nash boy - Cyril, is it? - the one that always

looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Not that we

found much of him,’ he added bitterly. ‘Blown to bits, poor

little tyke. And Jimmy Cross - well, he’s lost a leg, blown

clean off, and they reckon he’ll be lucky if that’s all the

damage.’

Cissie stared at him. ‘But youngsters like that ought to

have been down in their shelters. What on earth were they

doing out there? What were their mums and dads thinking of?’

‘I don’t suppose Nancy Baxter even knew Micky was

out,’ Alice said. ‘She’s not home herself at night all that

much. But the other two - well, I’d have thought they’d be

better looked after.’

‘It’ll have been that Micky Baxter who was the ringleader,’

Frank said grimly. ‘There’s always trouble where

that boy is. What about him, Tom? Was he hurt?’

‘I dunno. I don’t think he was, much, just knocked out by

the blast.’ Tommy rubbed his face again. ‘But those other

two - I tell you, I don’t never want to see nothing like that

again. That little Cyril Nash - he used to come round here

with his guy, Firework Night, asking for pennies. My Freda

always used to give him something, she said he had such a

sweet face. I dunno how she’s going to take this.’

‘And Jimmy Cross too,’ Alice said sadly. ‘I used to live in

the same street as his grandpa when I was little - played

together, we did. They were a nice family, the Crosses.

What a terrible thing.’

Tommy went indoors and Frank continued on his way.

Alice and Cissie looked at each other.

‘I’m worried sick about our Polly and Judy,’ Cissie said,

her voice shaking. ‘Something’s happened to them, Mum,

I’m sure of it. Something awful’s happened to them.’

‘I just don’t know what we ought to do,’ Alice said. She’d

managed to persuade Cissie to come back indoors and boil

up a kettle for some tea; just for once, the gas supply seemed

to have survived the raid. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t be

cut off later, of course, if there was danger from an

unexploded bomb or some fracture further along the mains.

But for now, you could at least make a hot drink. Alice put a

couple of slices of bread under the grill too, but when she

spread margarine and Marmite on the toast Cissie shook her

head.

‘I couldn’t eat a thing, Mum, not till I know what’s

happened to them. And there’s Dick as well, he’s supposed

to be coming out of hospital in the next day or two. What

am I going to tell him when I go in at visiting time if our

Judy still isn’t home?’

‘She’ll be back by then.’ Alice spoke with more conviction

than she felt. ‘Bound to be. But I don’t know what we can

do about it anyway, Cis. I suppose we could go down the

Emergency Centre. They’ll know what’s what.’

Cissie began to get to her feet. ‘I’ll go now.’

‘You’ll eat your breakfast first.’ Once again, Alice’s voice

was stern, reminding Cissie of her childhood. ‘You don’t

take a step out of this house without something inside you.

Eat up your toast now, there’s a good girl. You don’t want

me to waste it, do you?’

If she’d really been the child her mother seemed to think

she was, Cissie would have retorted that she hadn’t wanted

her to make it. But she was a grown woman, for all her

nervousness, and knew that you couldn’t afford to waste

good food these days. Alice was right - she did need

something to eat before she went out. So she picked up the

toast and nibbled it, then realised that she really was hungry

and ate it without further argument. She drank the tea and

then got up again.

‘I’ll go down the Centre now, Mum. You’re right, they’ll

know what’s happened. They might even be there, our Judy

and Polly, having a rest before they come home. They must

have been so busy last night…’ Her voice wavered again

and then strengthened as Alice too began to make ready for

going out. ‘No, you stop here. You need a rest too and I’d

rather there was someone here in case they come while I’m

gone.’

She shrugged on her jacket and let herself out into the

street again. April Grove was busy now, with women at

their doors washing their steps and delivery vans already

beginning to arrive with bread, milk and vegetables. It was a

marvel how people just got on with their lives even after a

night like they’d just been through, Cissie reflected. Mind

you, the baker’s van didn’t seem to have many loaves to

hand out, and old Mr Briggs who drove it seemed to be

operating his own rationing system (‘No, Mrs Kinch, you

‘ad one yesterday, you can’t ‘ave got through that already’),

while his horse seemed nervous, as if it had been frightened

all night, which it probably had. But the milkman was

whistling cheerfully and the burly man from the greengrocer’s

was weighing out potatoes as if he didn’t have a care

in the world. So perhaps the raid hadn’t been so bad after

all, she thought hopefully as she hurried along.

It was a different matter when she came out into the main

road. There were no buses running, and she could see a pall

of smoke further south, over Portsea. A woman walked past

crying, with a handkerchief held up to her face, and there

was a group of workmen standing on a corner looking

stunned. Cissie began to feel anxious again, a heavy sense of

dread settling over her like a cloud. She thought again of the

little boy who had been killed and the one who would be

‘lucky if he only lost a leg’. How many others were there like

that?

Her chest and throat tight with anxiety, Cissie almost ran

along the pavement. I ought to go to the hospital too, she

thought, and let Dick know we’re all right. Even if they

don’t let me in, I ought to go. But I don’t know that we’re all right, she reminded herself. Until I know where Polly and

my Judy are, I don’t know that at all.

Dick would be all right, anyway, tucked up in bed and

well looked after. He was over the worst now, and yesterday

they’d told her he’d be home in a few days. He’d be

worrying about them, she was sure, and the minute she

knew about Polly and Judy she’d go straight to the Royal

and get a message to him, but just for now her sister and

daughter came first.

She arrived at the Centre at last. It was thronged with

people and as Cissie came round the corner and saw the

queue her heart leaped with relief. Not for all those poor

souls who’d been bombed out, of course, but just because

she knew that if there were so many people needing help it

was no wonder Polly and Judy hadn’t been able to get home.

They’d been there all night, handing out cocoa and

sandwiches, and probably that’s where they were still. Some

of the daytime volunteers might have been bombed as well,

or just couldn’t get through the streets to take over. That

was all it was. She’d see them the minute she went through

the door, looking tired but cheerful, glad as always to be able to lend a hand.

Getting through the door wasn’t so easy, however. The

people waiting were reluctant to let her through. ‘Oy, no

queue-jumping if you don’t mind! Go to the back. It’s first

come, first served.’

‘I need to see my daughter.’

‘You’ve got a wait, then,’ said a woman with pinched lips

and a deep vertical line between her eyebrows. ‘Gawd knows

what they’re doing in there, but whatever it is they’re

handing out there’s not going to be much left for us poor

buggers. We bin here since five, and hardly moved.’

‘No, she’s a volunteer - a helper. She’s been out all night.

I just want to make sure she’s all right. And my sister too,

she drives an ambulance. Please let me through,’ Cissie

begged. ‘I’ve got my hubby in hospital, too, in the Royal,

he’s had pneumonia. I’ve got to go and let him know we’re

all right.’

‘In the Royal?’ A man standing just in front of them

turned. ‘Well, you’d better go and see if he’s all right too.

Didn’t you know it got hit last night?’

‘The Royal?’ Cissie stared at him, her heart suddenly

cold. ‘The Royal Hospital got hit?’

”S right. Mine fell on it. Hundreds killed, so I heard.

There was ambulances backwards-and forwards all night,

and what I heard was, the Casualty Ward got the worst of it.

Maybe that’s where your girl’s gone, if your sis was one of

the drivers.’

Cissie felt sick. She put out one hand and leaned against

the door jamb, swept by a wave of dizziness. The woman

who had been reluctant to let her through steadied her with

one arm.

‘Here, hold on, ducks. I dare say your girl’s all right, and

your sister too. They’re probably in here now, dishing out

tea and filling up forms. And if it was just the Casualty that

got hit, your hubby’ll be all right. Don’t you worry. Now

look, you go on in and make sure they’re here and then pop

off to the Royal. Let her through,’ she said, raising her voice to those in front. ‘Let this lady through, she’s got a girl and a sister in the volunteers, and her hubby’s down the Royal.

Come on, move yourselves!’

The queue shifted, some of those at the front grumbling a

little but, as the details were passed along the line, changing dramatically as they went, Cissie was allowed to pass. By the

time she reached the head of the queue the whispers had

arrived before her, and she was receiving sympathetic

glances. ‘Lost her hubby and daughter and sister in the

raid,’ someone murmured as she passed, and Cissie swayed

again. Suppose it were true! Oh, let it not be true, she

begged.

To her relief, the woman pouring tea was Annie

Chapman. ‘Cis! Whatever are you doing here? I thought

you’d be at the hospital.’

Cissie stared at her. ‘At the hospital? You mean the

Royal?’

‘Well, no. They were taking people to Queen Alexandra

or St James’s. The Royal was hit, you know.’ Annie’s hand

flew to her mouth in consternation. ‘Oh, my goodness. Your

hubby’s in there, isn’t he? How is he? Have you been to

see?’

‘No - I didn’t even know about it till a few minutes ago.’

Cissie put her hand to her head. ‘I was looking for Polly and

Judy - they never came home. I thought I’d find them here,

but…’ Annie’s words sank in and she caught her breath.

‘D’you mean to say they’ve been taken to hospital, too?

They’ve been hurt?’

Annie looked dismayed. ‘Cis, I’m ever so sorry to break it

to you like this. That’s what I heard, anyway. They were in