Rosie Goes to War Read online

  ‘So Harry will be there, will he?’

  ‘He might be. But there’s plenty of other fellas I can dance with if he ain’t. Oh come on, Nell, it’ll be a laugh.’

  Nelly doesn’t look convinced. She looks at me and shrugs. I know she doesn’t want to let May go on her own, not if there’s a chance that Harry will be hanging around.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ I say. ‘I’m going to have an early night.’

  ‘What if there’s a raid?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘There’s always a raid, isn’t there? The sirens will wake me up and I’ll go down to the shelter.’

  ‘On your own?’

  I shrug.

  ‘You could always pop over to Lil. She’s got a shelter n’all.’

  ‘OK, if there’s a raid, I’ll go to Lil’s.’

  ‘All right,’ she says to May. ‘I’ll go with you.’

  May lets out a whoop and dances down the street.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I don’t know how I feel about being here in the house on my own. I thought it would be all right, but now I’m not so sure. It’s creepy.

  I remember what it was like at Gran’s, when this older house would show itself to me. Now it’s the other way round. I swear I can hear Gran and Great-aunt Eleanor talking in the front room. But when I go in there it’s still the cold, drab room in 1940, and echoes of Gran’s laughter swirl around the walls.

  I stand in front of the hall mirror for ages, trying to use my head and figure out how the hell I’m going to get back. But all I can see is my pale face staring back at me – no Gran and her sister, young or old, in sight.

  I decide to give up for now and go to bed. I’m so tired I can’t think straight. But once I’m there I lie shivering in the dark, going over everything that’s happened to me over the past week. It doesn’t feel like a few days, it feels like I’ve been here for ages. I’m cold, battered and hungry. I never knew how hard it would be to live on rations and face bombing raids every single night. God, I miss Mum and Dad! I took everything for granted, didn’t I? I’d give anything for a taste of Mum’s fish pie right now; I’ve never told her it’s my favourite. I’ll even laugh at Dad’s silly jokes if I can just get home. I’ll never roll my eyes and get embarrassed by him again.

  And I was so disrespectful to Gran, acting like she was stupid and sulking like a little kid because I had to go and stay with her. That’s not right. It wasn’t her fault that Simon preferred Jess, or that Jess would rather snog him than be my best friend.

  Look at what the May and Nelly are living through! May has been really cool, and so kind to me. Even though Nelly has been a pain, they’ve both looked out for me. Look at how Nelly yelled at Billy about keeping me out all night. I smile. She needn’t have worried. I’m not going to anything naughty with my own grandpa, am I?

  ‘Use your head.’ Seriously, what does that mean? I’ve tried and tried to figure it out, but I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know why I’m here, or what I have to do to get home. I think about what Lil said about me being in other times, and this man she mentioned, who is he? What if I don’t find my way back, but have to spend the rest of my life travelling through time? I know she said I got home, but what does she know, really? Maybe she’s just totally mad and I shouldn’t take any notice of what she says.

  Now wide awake, I get up and turn the light on and rummage through the suitcase, which I still haven’t unpacked. I mean, I’m not staying, am I? I find the notebook and crawl back into bed to try and keep warm while I write down everything that’s happened to me since I arrived at Gran’s. I write in text speak because I don’t want May, or even worse Nelly, finding this and reading it.

  Everything’s coming out in a rush when those bloody sirens go off again. I’m tempted to stay here, but then realise that’s a stupid thing to do. I drag on some trousers and a jumper and head down to the shelter. I have to stop on the way to collect a coat and shoes, then to make sure the gas is turned off like Nelly told me to. I’m out the back door and in the shelter before I remember I promised to go over the Lil’s. But the planes are overhead now and the guns are going off. There’s no way I’m going outside now, so I light the lamp and make myself comfortable and carry on writing.

  I must have fallen asleep, because I’m waking up as the girls come bursting into the shelter. My cheek is plastered to the notebook. It’s lucky I’ve been writing in pencil otherwise I’d have ink all over my face.

  ‘What you doing here? Why didn’t you go over to Lil?’

  ‘I forgot,’ I say, yawning and tucking the notebook into my coat pocket. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘About half eleven. Didn’t you hear the all-clear?’

  ‘No, I must have slept through it.’

  ‘We got home and you weren’t in,’ says May. ‘So I popped over to Lil’s, but she said she ain’t seen you. The old girl’s in a bit of a state, I can tell you. She’s having one of her turns. It’s just a well you never went over there.’

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Nelly waves my concern away. ‘She’s well known round here for her turns. She’s goes off on one for a bit then she’ll be right as rain tomorrow.’

  ‘What do you mean she “goes off on one”?’

  ‘Oh, Queenie, you should hear her, it’s so funny,’ says May. Nelly glares at her. ‘Well, it does make you laugh, Nell, you know it does.’ She turns to me. ‘Anyway, she reckons she’s got special powers, sort of like the ’fluence.’ She wiggles her fingers and rolls her eyes. ‘Old Lil sees ghosts and the like. Just now she was ranting on about time, and how something’s happening again and she never thought she’d live to see the day and we’d better mind ourselves ’cause strange things are going on round here. She reckons she’s packing up and going off to Ethel’s tomorrow. Said she’d done her bit and was getting out before she gets blown to kingdom come.’

  ‘It’s a bloody wonder Jock’s such a sensible fella, with a nan like that,’ says Nelly. ‘Anyway, Lil will be all right down Ethel’s, but I won’t if we stay out here much longer. It’s blinking cold. Come on, let’s get to bed while it’s quiet.’

  ‘Maybe it’s just the war getting to Lil,’ I say as we walk up the garden path. ‘You know, when she says it’s happening again – she’s probably remembering the last war.’

  ‘Yeah, I expect so.’

  ‘And let’s face it,’ I go on, for some reason not wanting them to think that Lil is crazy, even though I’d been thinking it myself. ‘There’s definitely a lot of strange things happening round here with bombing raids everything night. You could hardly call it all normal, could you?’

  ‘Yeah, all right, Queenie, we know what it’s like. That’s why we ain’t too worried about the old girl. We all go off on one now and again, eh Nell?’

  ‘Not me,’ she says. ‘You won’t catch me acting like a bleeding mad woman. I ain’t got no time for nonsense like that. There’s a war on, ain’t there?’

  ‘That’s the whole point,’ I say. ‘This war is enough to do anyone’s head in.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t going to argue with you,’ says Nelly. ‘I’m off to me bed, and I suggest you to do the same.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The next morning I wake and can’t understand why Nelly and May don’t seem to be moving around making a noise like they usually do. Its freezing but I throw off the bedclothes, determined not to be late again. As my feet touch the cold lino I realise its Saturday and we don’t have to go to work. I nearly cry with relief and snuggle back down under the covers to enjoy a lie-in.

  I didn’t surface again until I heard the girls moving about at around eight o’clock. I’m glad I did, because once breakfast was over there wasn’t much chance to relax. Nelly announced there were jobs to be done, and started ordering us around like an army sergeant. Between us we cleaned the house from top to bottom – and with no vacuum cleaner or modern cleaning products it was hard work, I can tell you. Floors
had to be swept and rugs hung over the washing line in the back garden and bashed with a carpet beater shaped like a tennis racket to get all the dust out. The furniture had to be polished with wax out of a tin – no Pledge spray here. We changed the bed sheets, none of which are fitted, so now I know why my bedding keeps going all lumpy when I toss and turn in my sleep.

  After a quick sandwich for lunch, May announces she’s going up town to meet Harry.

  ‘What about the washing?’ asks Nelly.

  ‘I’ve only got a few bits, I’ll do them later. Anyway, with Queenie here, there’s no point me hanging around is there? The three of us will get under each other’s feet. Harry’s promised to take me to the Lyon’s Tea House. I ain’t missing that treat just to wash me smalls.’

  Nelly sighs. ‘All right. But don’t be late back.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ says May, laughing and running upstairs.

  ‘If I was your mum you’d be better behaved,’ Nelly shouts after her. ‘She wouldn’t have put up with the likes of Harry.’

  So, we get on with the washing. It all has to be done by hand in the kitchen sink. We don’t have a big washing copper like Lil has over the road.

  I’ve got to say, I was shocked by how hard it is to get everything clean without a washing machine. First, it all has to be washed in hot soapy water, using an old-fashioned washboard to scrub the dirt out. I’ve seen this thing before – Gran still has it, and ages ago she explained how it works. She still uses it sometimes, even though she’s got a state-of-the-art automatic washing machine. I thought it looked like a doddle, but it’s really hard work. Seriously, I had no idea how hot and sweaty you get using a washboard. It doesn’t help that, apparently, I’ve used too much soap.

  ‘Oi, what you doing, using all that?’ Nell yells at me. ‘You don’t need that much, and we can’t afford to waste soap.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, wiping my forehead with my arm. ‘I didn’t know how much to use.’

  Nell tuts. ‘I suppose your mum does the washing at home? She’s doing you no favours, waiting on you hand and foot. You’ll be no use to man nor beast in the end.’

  I want to point out I do know how to use the washing machine at home, and sometimes put a load on for Mum, but to be fair I don’t do it very often. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ I sigh.

  ‘Well, get on with it now, and mind you rinse that lot properly. When you’re ready to do the next lot, I’ll show you how much soap to use.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’

  Eventually, I have a pile of soggy, but well-scrubbed clothes. Nell helps me put them through the mangle, feeding the material through rollers to squeeze out the water. Next we lower the wooden racks which were hanging by ropes from the ceiling, and hang the clothes up because it’s far too cold to put them out on the line in the back yard. The racks are pulled back up and secured, and Nell lights the fire so that the heat in the kitchen will dry the wet washing. Watching the fire in the grate, I suddenly realise why Gran’s kitchen seems bigger than this one – she’s had the chimney breast taken out.

  The kitchen is damp and steamy, and there’s water all over the floor by now. I mop up the puddles, while Nelly gets on with her own washing. She’s much quicker at it than me, and makes a lot less mess.

  ‘Shall I make us a cup of tea?’ I ask, arching my back, hands on hips. I really want to just lie down somewhere, I’m so tired. No wonder Gran always said women have it easy in the future.

  ‘If you like.’

  I make a pot of tea, all the time dreaming about chocolate chip cookies. It’s so hard, doing so much manual work whilst living on rations. There’s never enough to eat, and I’m getting totally sick of the stodgy, flavourless meals we’ve had. What I wouldn’t give for a pizza, or a curry! Even some herbs or garlic would make a huge difference, but the only flavourings we have are salt, pepper or vinegar. Even pepper isn’t the same as at home – it’s ground into a grey powder and isn’t anything like the fancy peppercorns my mum uses.

  I’ve never been fat, but I’m noticing that my clothes are getting looser. At this rate, I’ll end up looking like an anorexic if I don’t get home soon.

  I’m just pouring the tea when there’s a knock at the door. Nelly is up to her armpits in washing, so I go to answer it. It’s Bill.

  ‘Hiya,’ I smile. ‘Come in. I’ve just made some tea. Do you want a cup?’

  ‘Er, hallo,’ he said. ‘I’ve just taken Nan to the station. She thought you girls might like some of this veg. We had a good year on the allotment, so there’s plenty of spuds and onions left over. There’s a few carrots in there n’all, and sprouts, and some turnips. But what with all this cold, she don’t think they’ll last much longer. We thought it was better to share it with the neighbours than let it go rotten in the frost.’

  He holds out a sack, bulging with vegetables. I feel tears well up. Extra food! Oh, bliss! My mouth waters as I step back.

  ‘Bill, that’s so kind. Come in, come in. Wait till Nelly sees this lot. She’ll be made up.’

  He looks at me a bit odd, then shakes his head and comes in. He wipes his feet on the mat and steps into the hall. He looks at the coat stand. ‘It don’t look like magic to me,’ he says quietly. ‘You sure it had something to do with – you know?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue. If I did I’d have gone back the way I came.’ I pull a face in the mirror. ‘It doesn’t explain the portal in that basement, does it? I just don’t know anymore, Bill.’ I shrug. ‘Anyway, don’t mention it around Nelly, OK?’

  He nods. ‘Is May not around, then?’

  ‘No, she’s out. But if you stay for a cuppa, she might be home soon.’

  ‘Oh. All right. Just a quick one.’

  Nelly greets him politely and thanks him for the food. Then she pulls me to one side and hisses, ‘Take him in the parlour, for God’s sake. I don’t want him watching while I wash me smalls!’

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry,’ I say, trying not to laugh. ‘Come on, Bill, we’ll take ours in the parlour.’

  ‘Put the paraffin heater on in there, it’ll be quicker than lighting the fire to warm it up, or you’ll catch your deaths,’ Nelly calls after us.

  It’s easier said than done. I’ve never lit one before, and in the end Bill takes pity on me – either that or he’s fed up with standing there shivering – and shows me how to do it.

  Bill sits in an armchair and I take the sofa. I hope the heater warms us up soon.

  ‘Thanks,’ I smile. ‘I’m pretty useless around here. I think I just used about a month’s worth of soap flakes on my washing, and I nearly singed my eyebrows off the other day, trying to light the grill on the cooker.’

  Bill laughs. ‘I’ll bet Nell’s been putting you right.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘She’s worse than my mum sometimes.’ I suddenly feel really homesick. All things considered, Mum’s not so bad. I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to tell her.

  We sip our tea. The only sounds in the room are the hiss of the heater and the tick-tock of the clock on the mantelpiece. Bill looks at the clock and frowns. When he sees me looking me gives me an awkward grin.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I ain’t got long. I’m on duty later on.’

  ‘You’re a private, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve just heard I’m getting me corporal’s stripes next week.’

  ‘Cool. We’ll have to salute you from now on, Corporal Bill!’

  ‘Too right,’ he grins.

  ‘Will you be sent overseas?’ I ask.

  He does that eyebrow thing. ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘I don’t know everything, Bill. And if I did, I don’t think I should tell you.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Spoilers. Nan told me. You talked to her about all this, didn’t you?’

  ‘Er, not exactly. She talked to me.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Seriously, I’ve no idea. She said loads of strange things about me being younger, and I’d been a teacher and got locked
up and all sorts of stuff. To be honest, Bill, she scared me. From what she said it looks like I might be time-travelling for ever. But she said I told her she had to tell me it’s going to be all right. I’ve just got to use my head, if that makes any sense? But I don’t understand. I mean, how does she know? I just want to go home –’

  ‘Hang on a minute, Rosie. Calm down, love.’ Bill gets up and comes across and kneels in front of me. ‘You’re getting yourself in a state.’ I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. ‘Now, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about half the time, but if Nan says it will be all right, and if she heard it from you another time, then I reckon you’d better listen.’

  ‘The girls think Lil’s mad.’

  ‘Yeah, well, there’s a lot of folks who say that. I’ve thought it meself a time or two. But you know what? I believe what you told me – about you coming from the future – and if Nan says she’s seen you in the past, well, that sort of makes sense n’all in the circumstances, don’t it?’

  ‘I suppose so, but she’s gone away now, hasn’t she? I can’t ask her any more about it. What if –’

  He puts a finger to my lips, shutting me up. ‘Ain’t no point in what if, Rosie. It’s like this war. There ain’t no point in wanting it to be different. It’s here and we’ve got to sort it out, ’cause if we don’t, we’ll all be talking German soon. Now, I thought about what you said about spoilers and the like, and I agree with you. It’s best not to know, ’cause then you do what you can and don’t take nothing for granted.’

  My throat is tight and my eyes fill up with tears. ‘But what if you do know something – something really, really terrible. Shouldn’t you try to change that?’

  Bill looks at me. He has no idea what I’m talking about. He hasn’t seen the pictures of the Holocaust survivors, so thin and afraid; or the ovens and the piles of shoes and – Oh God! I rub my eyes, trying to clear my tears and the images in my brain at the same time. Bill sits on the sofa next to me and pulls me into his arms.