War Orphans (21 page)

Sally once again thanked him for the perfume. ‘It was so unexpected.'

Creases appeared at the corners of his eyes. He wound his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. ‘Make the most of it. If Mr Hitler has his way French perfume could be difficult to obtain in future.'

She sensed wariness clouding his eyes, the smile persisting but lacking in softness.

‘You're worried Germany might march into France.'

He nodded. ‘It is a possibility.'

‘What about the Maginot Line?'

She'd read about the concrete bastions that stretched from the Belgian border down into northern France.

‘I am not sure that will stop him. It only protects a part of the French border and besides he could come marching through Belgium. It wouldn't be the first time. The Kaiser did the same in the Great War.' He gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Let us talk of more pleasant things.'

‘Or just walk in silent peace,' she suggested.

What with dusk descending and the swirling white mist, she could almost forget it was Christmas Day. She sifted through her thoughts, trying to guess what might be on his mind. He was here helping his aunt out with the menagerie she'd gathered around her, but somehow sensed it was not the only reason.

He was the right age to be called up to fight, but she wasn't sure which army he would be expected to join, after all he had
both British and French ancestry. The question refused to go away. There was nothing for it but to ask him outright.

‘Have you joined the French army?' Her blood turned chillier as she waited for the answer. She didn't want him to join
any
army.

‘No.'

‘I suppose you have two options. French or British.'

‘You are quite correct. I am eligible for both.'

His pronouncement seemed very non-committal and she couldn't help getting the impression that there was something he was not saying.

‘Will you go back to France?'

His jaw clenched and unclenched and he stared straight ahead as though seeking an answer in the middle of all that mist. She immediately knew the answer.

‘You are!' The knowledge filled her with dismay.

‘I think I have to,' he said.

They stopped and faced each other not far from the children's swings at the bottom of the park close to the railway line.

‘Your aunt will miss you.
I'll
miss you.'

‘Sally, my sweet,' he said, turning to her and cupping one side of her face with his hand. His look was intense and made her legs feel weak. ‘Wait for me.'

Sally shuddered. It was exactly as she'd guessed. In her mind she could see the black-and-white newsreels she'd seen at the cinema, Hitler's army marching into Austria and then into Czechoslovakia. She imagined them marching into France. Did he know something she didn't?

‘There's nothing I can do to dissuade you?'

He shook his head silently, his mouth in a firm straight line. Dark circles under his eyes that told her he'd had many a sleepless night thinking about this. She sighed, resigned to the fact that he had made up his mind and so had she.

‘You will come back. I do believe that, and I will wait for you.'

Shrouded in mist they kissed long and deeply, eyes closed and lost in their own private world.

Seb gritted his teeth. The shed door was not locked and when he looked inside it was empty. Surely Joanna's mother hadn't locked her up again?

On checking the dog's food and water dishes, he knew it couldn't be so. There was water but only a few indiscernible scraps in Harry's food dish.
Good job I brought along a bit of brisket
, he thought to himself.

Pierre's aunt had donated the piece of beef.

‘She would have given us a chicken but somebody broke in last weekend and stole the lot,' explained Sally.

Chicken stealing was definitely on the rise.

He determined to keep his ears open as to who might have been so lucky as to eat chicken for Christmas, though people were just grateful to eat regardless of the activities of thieves and black marketers.

Bending his knees, he took a closer look into the dog's dish. The puppy had made short shrift of whatever might have been in there. Poking around with his finger he came across a small dark piece of meat that was easily identified once it was between his finger and thumb and held against the light.

A heart. A chicken heart!

Pursing his lips, Seb got to his feet. He'd said nothing to his daughter about Joanna or the dog. Although she eyed him quizzically she had not yet asked him a direct question as to the reason for his change of mood in the past few weeks. He decided to ask Joanna where she'd got the chicken offal, though for now he would let it go. By the looks of things the kid had a hard-enough life without him intimidating her. But he would ask – in a roundabout way so she didn't get upset.

In the meantime he assured himself that she and the puppy had gone for a walk. His heart leapt with joy at the thought of it. The little lad was growing up.

Standing in the doorway he looked around but couldn't see her. A terrible sense of loneliness seemed suddenly to jump on his shoulders. So did doubt. Surely she hadn't left for good?

No, he assured himself. They've gone for a walk. That's all.

A sliver of doubt eased its way into the back of his mind. It was possible a nosy neighbour might have betrayed Harry's presence to the authorities, he thought grimly. If they had they would answer to him. He clenched his jaw at the same time as running his fingers over the small parcel in his pocket.

In an effort to take his mind off things, he walked around his allotment, checking the growing vegetables as he went. Soon there would be carrots, cabbages, onions, parsnips and swede. Once they were harvested he would plant peas and green beans. In the summer he would plant lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers, once he'd built a makeshift cloche that is.

The fruit canes were doing well and so was the rhubarb. The only other people he saw dealing with their allotments were strangers and quite a way from where he gardened. One or two waved at him and he waved back.

Then he spotted a small figure emerging from the mist. He waved and was about to shout when he saw her alter course. She was going behind the sheds rather than in front of them. It was the long way round and he wondered why – then realised she didn't want anyone else to see her.

Leaving off scrutinising what was growing well and what was not, he slowly made his way to the shed, scraped his boots off outside then entered.

Joanna entered just a few minutes later and started while Harry leapt up and down, excited to see him.

Seb bent down to fuss him. ‘Steady on there, young Harry! You got springs instead of legs?' He turned to Joanna. ‘Been for a walk, have you?'

She nodded and held up her hand. ‘Harry needed a lead so I could take him for a walk. I found some rope.'

Harry proceeded to shake his head and scratch at the rope that served as a collar as well as a lead.

‘I've got a Christmas present for you.' Seb smiled as he reached into his pocket. He was certain that Joanna's stepmother wouldn't have given her anything. It pleased him no end that he had. ‘Merry Christmas, young lady.'

He held out the parcel Pierre had quizzed him about.

Joanna's jaw dropped. Her eyes were round with surprise. ‘What is it?'

‘A Christmas present. Haven't you ever had a Christmas present before?'

‘Yes. From my dad.'

‘But not this year.'

His tone and expression were sombre. It was such a shame that a child like Joanna had received nothing at all. She deserved a proper home and a real Christmas.

Joanna shook her head, her gaze fixed on the parcel. ‘No.'

‘Well,' he said. ‘Are you going to take it or do I have to take it back home with me?'

Gingerly, too surprised to speak, Joanna took the parcel. ‘Can I undo it now?'

‘Well of course you can,' Seb replied somewhat impatiently. ‘It's your Christmas present!'

Harry played with the pieces of wrapping paper that dropped to the floor.

‘Oh . . . oh . . .!' Joanna stared open mouthed at the collar and lead dangling from her hand.

‘Do you like it?' asked Seb.

It felt as though her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth so she could only nod.

‘Well say something then!' he exclaimed gruffly.

‘It's beautiful. Really beautiful,' she finally managed to say.

‘Better see if it fits him then, hadn't you?'

Excited at the sight of the collar and lead, Harry wriggled and jumped around before she finally managed to get the collar
around his neck. Even then he tried to shake it off, his velvet soft ears flapping around his head.

‘I don't think he likes it,' said Joanna.

‘He'll get used to it. Now you'd better have this as well.'

He gave her a brown carrier bag containing a few beef bones plus some bits of fat and gristle and a portion of ox heart.

‘Couldn't give you all of what was left because we need some fat to fry and bake cakes with. And there's a cooked sausage I bought for him that I saved from my breakfast. That lot should last him a few days.'

Since his change of mood, Sally had given him the job of midweek shopping. Although they had little meat themselves, Seb hadn't been able to resist buying a sausage and desisting from eating it for breakfast.

Seb glanced out through the window at the gathering dusk. ‘Looks like time we were both heading home.'

Joanna unhitched the lead from Harry's collar and hung it on a free hook beside the gardening implements.

Harry continued to scratch at the collar and flap his ears, but once he had a beef bone to gnaw on, he settled down. In fact, he hardly noticed them leave.

‘Tell me,' said Seb, as he slid the catch on the shed door. ‘Do you go to Victoria Park school?'

‘Yes.'

‘I thought you might. And what's the name of your teacher?'

‘Miss Hadley,' Joanna replied, as she sucked on a gobstopper he'd given her.

‘Is that so. Do you like her?'

Joanna nodded. ‘Yes. She's my favourite teacher.'

Seb felt an instant surge of pride. He realised now how offhand he'd been with his daughter since the death of his wife. Not only had he been distant and uncommunicative, he'd taken little notice of what was happening in her career. All he'd done
was insist on not letting her out of his sight – as though that was going to solve anything.

Now he had to make amends and show her just how much he cared about her. Meeting up with Joanna and her dog would help him do that.

There was also the question of where the chicken came from. It was highly unlikely that anyone living in The Vale had the money to dine on chicken this Christmas and Joanna's home circumstances were such that her stepmother couldn't possibly afford one. Only people in the country who had the room to keep chickens dined so lavishly. So where had the bits come from that Joanna had fed to Harry?

‘Did any uncles and aunts visit you this Christmas?' he asked her.

‘No. I don't have any. At least I don't think I do. There was just me, Elspeth and her cousin.'

‘Her cousin you say! What was his name then?'

‘Jack. Jack Smith.'

Later that evening, once he and Sally were seated in their cosy sitting room, Seb asked his daughter about the little girl named Joanna Ryan.

Sally, still thinking of Pierre while she knitted, didn't seem to hear so he repeated himself.

‘I met a little girl named Joanna Ryan. She said she was in your class.'

Sally's attention jerked up from the socks she was knitting. Knitting socks from wool unravelled from old jumpers for the brave fellows fighting gave her something to do while she wandered through her thoughts. ‘Joanna Ryan? Yes. She's in my class. Where did you meet her?'

Seb tapped out the contents of his pipe into the hot coals in the grate. He would tell her all she needed to know – except with regard to the dog.

‘At the allotment. Am I right in thinking she's a bit neglected by her parents?'

‘By her stepmother,' Sally exclaimed, an angry flush coming to her face. ‘Her mother died, her father remarried and now he's gone off to war. The woman's a tart!'

‘Strong language!' Seb was taken aback. It wasn't often his daughter reacted so strongly. ‘I take it you've met the woman.'

‘Peroxide-dyed hair and her face plastered in makeup and takes care of herself. She certainly doesn't take care of Joanna, which is a great shame. Joanna is a lovely girl. Quite intelligent in fact. She used to come to school quite decently dressed and plumper than she is now. She's now a skinny little thing and a bit cowed. As for her clothes . . .'

‘She's long grown out of them.'

His daughter sat back in her chair and sighed. ‘I wish there was something more I could do to help her. I did visit the woman and gave her a piece of my mind. I should imagine she watched herself for a while, but I doubt she let it worry her for too long.'

‘Is there nothing that can be done?'

Sally lay the knitting to one side. ‘Well, I could report her circumstances to the children's welfare officer at the council, but I'm not sure I'd be doing Joanna any favours. Despite her stepmother's shortcomings, a children's home is not the best place for a child to grow up in. I was hoping her father would come home soon then he could see what's been happening and do something about it.'

‘Hopefully he will,' said her father, and looked thoughtfully towards the window. Beyond the front wall of the house were the park and the allotments. His thoughts turned to the puppy that had brought him and the little girl together. ‘I think we might have snow.'

By the end of January, Harry was going out for regular walks on his lead. On the occasions when Joanna couldn't get there, Seb did the honours.