Under the Apple Tree (51 page)

as well as running an article on all the many things the

Mayor and his wife had done to help the city and its people

during the hardships of the past two years. But even this

news couldn’t compete for long with the war itself, and it

seemed almost like a deliberate insult when the Luftwaffe

came again that very night and dropped high explosive and

oil bombs on several of the city’s military establishments,

including the RAOC camp in Copnor Road where a number

of soldiers were killed. The families in April Grove huddled

in their shelters, hearing the bombs explode frighteningly

close, and dreading the thought of being made homeless

again. I couldn’t bear it, Cissie thought, not a second time,

and reached for her husband’s hand. Alice, too, looked

fearful by the flickering light of the hurricane lamp, and all

three were thinking of Polly and Judy, out together in the

ambulance. I don’t know how our Judy stands it, Cissie

thought, nor our Polly, not after what’s already happened to

them. They’re brave as lions, the pair of them. They ought

to be knighted too, only they don’t knight women, but they

ought to get medals at least. All those girls and women ought to get medals.

However, despite the damage and the tragedy of the

RAOC camp, there was not much more damage in the area

and April Grove lived - as Granny Kinch put it, standing at

her door as usual in her steel hair curlers - to fight another

day.

‘We’re bound to get some good news soon,’ she said

staunchly. ‘Bound to. Old Hitler can’t have things all his

own way.’

And her words were proved true only two days later,

when Jess Budd came down the street in a state of high

excitement, almost dragging little Maureen along by one

hand, and reported that Heinrich Brunner had come home.

‘I saw him out in the street first,’ she told Cissie, who was

scrubbing the front doorstep. ‘I never even recognised him!

He’s gone ever so thin, and his hair’s grey and he’s got these

shaggy whiskers, and he looks as if he’s been sleeping rough.

I did think he looked a bit familiar but then I thought he

was some old tramp that I might have seen before. And then

he came into the shop. Alice and Joy were both there,

marking up the papers, the trains were late and half the

paper boys hadn’t turned up and Alice was saying how

they’d all be late and people would be complaining - and they looked at him for a minute as if they didn’t recognise him either! And he looked as if he hardly knew where he

was. And then he said, “Alice, don’t you know me?” and we

all realised who he was. Well, you should have seen Alice

Brunner’s face! She looked as if the sun had come out just

behind her eyes. And then he sort of swayed a bit and she

came round the counter like a flash of lightning and caught

him, and he said, “It’s me, Alice, it’s Heinrich, I’ve come

home,” and they all started crying …’ Jess wiped her own

eyes and her voice broke a little ‘… and I came away. I

don’t think people will be getting their papers till teatime

today, if they get them at all!’

‘Well, isn’t that wonderful.’ Cissie stood up with her scrubbing brush in her hand, gazing at Jess. ‘That’s really

good news. It was never right, putting people like Heinrich

Brunner in prison. I mean, what harm would he do? He’d

been in England for years. And poor Alice has had a hard

time running that shop by herself

‘I know. Mind, I’m not sure as he’s going to be much

help to her, not to start with anyway. He looks as if he’s

going to need a bit of looking after himself. But I don’t

suppose she’ll mind that. Just having him back is going to

make all the difference.’ She pulled Maureen away from

Cissie’s bucket of water. ‘Leave that alone, Maureen. We’re

going to see Auntie Annie now and tell her. D’you know,

Cissie, it’s really done me good, seeing something nice

happen for a change!’

It’s done me good, too, Cissie thought, picking up her

bucket and going back indoors. I just wish it could have

been my Terry. It was three weeks now since the Hood had

been sunk, and her secret hope that he might have been one

of the three men saved had been dashed. Yet she still

couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that he might yet come

back. A mistake might have been made. There could have

been four survivors. One might have been taken prisoner by

one of the German ships. Or he might somehow have

managed to reach Greenland or Iceland and been saved by

Eskimos who were even now taking care of him in some

isolated igloo … During the daytime, she knew that none of

these miracles had happened, but as she lay awake at night

or sat in the Anderson listening to the drone of aircraft or

the ‘crump’ of an exploding bomb, anything seemed

possible. Miracles did happen. Look at Heinrich Brunner.

Everyone had thought him lost in the torpedoing of the ship

that had been transporting him and other internees to

Canada. Now here he was, returned from the dead. If it

could happen to him, couldn’t it happen to Terry?

‘Heinrich Brunner’s come back,’ she said to her mother

and Dick as she went into the back room. ‘He came down September Street looking like a tramp, Jess Budd said, and

nobody knew him at first. Alice Brunner’s over the moon,

she’s shut the shop for the day and left the papers in a pile

outside for people to collect for themselves, and Jess Budd

says she’s sent up a tin of salmon she’s had put by, for their

tea.’

‘I don’t suppose poor Mr Brunner’s seen tinned salmon

for months and months,’ Alice said, beaming. ‘Well, what

lovely news. It’s like an answer to all our prayers. He never

ought to have been taken away in the first place. I thought

he was gone for good.’

‘So did Mrs Brunner. She’s been looking terrible just

lately, letting herself go and leaving the shop to young Joy to manage. She’ll buck up now.’

‘Well, I don’t know as it’s something to get all that fussed

about,’ Dick said from his corner. He had started on a new

rag rug but the canvas had slipped off his knees and was

lying on the floor. ‘Whether he was a spy or not, they had to

intern all the aliens just in case, it stands to reason. You

can’t trust foreigners, not at a time like this.’

‘But Mr Brunner wasn’t a foreigner! He’s been in

England for twenty years.’

‘He’s a foreigner,’ Dick stated. ‘He’s a German. He’s got

a German name and he speaks with a German accent. You

can’t get round that.’

Cissie opened her mouth to argue, then glanced at her

mother and folded her lips. When Dick was in this mood,

there was no reasoning with him. He knew Heinrich

Brunner as well as they did, he’d been in and out of the

newsagent’s shop ever since he’d first come to April Grove

to court Cissie, he’d laughed and joked with the man and

watched young Joy grow up from a baby. She knew that

deep down he agreed with them, but his mood lately had

been growing more and more morose. It was as if no matter

what you said, he had to take the opposite view.

It’s all been too much for him, she thought, going out to the scullery to empty her bucket and start on the next chore.

It’s getting him down, all of it, the air raids, the shortages, and then his illness. He couldn’t even get any rest from the

bombing in hospital. It was enough to send anybody

crackers.

Not that Dick was crackers! He was just miserable.

Depressed and miserable — and who could blame him?

Jean was six months pregnant now and beginning to show.

Nobody could be in any doubt about her condition and the

supervisor at the shop had told her that she’d have to leave.

‘It’s not decent, not with mothers bringing their children

in, and you getting more and more obvious, without even a

ring on your finger. You’d better take a week’s wages and go

now.’

Jean had stared at her, shocked and hurt. ‘You mean

straight away? Without even time to say goodbye?’

‘I don’t suppose anyone wants to say goodbye to you

anyway,’ the supervisor said brusquely. ‘You’re an embarrassment, the way you are. A lot of people would have given

you your cards before this.’

Jean turned and ran out of the shop. She saw some of the

other assistants staring as she hurried past, and one girl put

out her hand to stop her. But Jean shook her head and

pushed past, the tears streaming down her face. I’ll never go

there again, she thought, never. I’ll never buy anything in

that horrible place again, not as long as I live.

On the pavement, well away from the door, she stopped,

wondering what to do next. The thought of going home and

admitting she’d been sacked was unbearable. She’d have to

do it eventually, of course, but not now, at only half past

nine in the morning. Her mother would have enough to say

as it was, when she found out, and Jean didn’t want to spend

the entire day listening to her recriminations.

She wandered through the streets, wiping away her tears,

and after a while found herself outside the church hall that was being used for one of the Lady Mayoress’s Clothing

Stores. Glancing through the open door, she caught sight of

Judy sorting a pile of clothes, and as she hesitated Judy

looked up and saw her.

‘Jean! Whatever are you doing here?’ She hurried out into

the sunshine, gazing at her friend in concern. ‘What’s the

matter? You look awful. Come in and sit down - I’ll get you

a glass of water.’ She guided Jean to a chair and pushed her

into it, then disappeared for a moment, returning with a cup

which she held to Jean’s lips. ‘Here. Sip this. It’s - it’s not the baby, is it?’

Jean shook her head. ‘No, she’s all right.’ She was quite

certain it would be a girl. ‘Kicking me to death as usual!’

She laid her hand on her stomach. ‘Judy, I’ve been given the

sack.’

‘What?’ Judy stared at her and Jean bit her lip. For a few

minutes she had forgotten that Judy couldn’t hear. She

repeated her words more carefully and saw by Judy’s face

that she understood. ‘The sack? But why? Because of the

baby?’

Jean nodded. ‘I’m too embarrassing to have in the shop

any more. I knew it would happen, of course, but I didn’t

think it would be like this.’ Her voice shook and tears

brimmed over again. ‘She was so horrible to me, Judy. Said

I wasn’t decent and that nobody would want to talk to me.

She wouldn’t even let me say goodbye to the others. And

now they’ll all know, and nobody will want to speak to me

and - and I don’t know how I’m going to tell Mum, she’ll

start going on at me all over again, and Dad will be upset,

and - and I just don’t think I can bear it, Judy. I don’t know

what I’m going to do.’ She put down her cup and leaned

forwards, sinking her face into her hands.

Judy didn’t need to hear to know what Jean was saying

and feeling. She knelt beside the distraught girl, putting her

arms around the shaking shoulders and drawing her close.

‘It’s all right, Jean. It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll stand by you - all of us. We’ll look after you.

Don’t worry. Don’t be frightened. You’ve still got us. We’re

your family now, too, and we won’t let you down.’

‘Oh, Judy.’ The weeping girl turned and buried her face

against Judy’s shoulder. ‘It’s so awful. I never thought it

would be like this. I never thought it would lead to all this

trouble, and people hating me and not wanting to know me.

And Terry would never have wanted me to do it if he’d

known. We just didn’t think, we wanted to love each other

so much, it seemed so right and natural at the time - and

now he’s gone and he’s never coming back.’ Her words were

lost in a series of hiccuping sobs.

‘Sssh, ssh, it’ll be all right.’ Judy held her close,

murmuring comforting words. One of the other volunteers

came over and looked questioningly at her, and she shook

her head. ‘It’s all right, thanks. I can manage. I know her.

It’s all right, Jean, we’ll look after you. Don’t worry, it’s

going to be all right, I promise.’

Gradually, the sobs eased. Judy found a hanky and

pressed it into Jean’s hand. Jean wiped her face and blew her

nose, then drew in a shaky breath. She looked at Judy.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here, making a scene.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Once again, Judy could guess at what she

was saying. ‘Look, you just sit here and rest for a bit. I’ve

got to finish this job and then I’ll take you home. My home,’

she added firmly as Jean began to protest. ‘You know Mum

and Gran and Polly are all on your side as well as me. Dad

too,’ she added with slightly less conviction. Dick seemed to

veer from one point of view to another these days, for no

apparent reason. ‘And you know we’ve written to Mrs

Sutton to see if there’s anywhere in the village you can stay.

Why, there might be a letter there now, for all we know.

Anyway, you’ve got to stop worrying. Everything’s going to