Rosie Goes to War Page 8

  Nell is muttering something but I can’t hear what she’s saying as her head’s still buried in the coats. I step back just as she does. She’s got her arms full of coats. She hands me one. ‘Here, our nan’s old coat. It’ll keep the chill out.’

  ‘Is that real fur?’ I don’t think I’ve ever touched real fur before. It feels gorgeous, but I don’t think I should be liking it.

  ‘Too right. Lovely bit of rabbit, that is. May’s got our other nan’s fox fur. I prefer grandad’s old army coat meself. Here, hold that a minute.’ She dumps the other fur coat, a lovely golden brown colour, in my arms and pulls the heavy woollen coat on. It comes down to her ankles. ‘He was a big man,’ she grins, pulling it round her and tying the belt and picking up her sister’s coat. ‘This old coat kept him warm in the trenches in the last war. I’ll be snug as a bug in this.’

  ‘I don’t know if I should wear fur,’ I say.

  ‘Why? You allergic or something?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but aren’t they illegal or something?’

  That wipes the smile off Nelly’s face. ‘For gawd’s sake, what you on about now? That’s a good coat, that is, not some mangy old rag from down the market. And what do you mean, “illegal”? That was our nan’s best coat, and since she died it’s ours. There ain’t nothing illegal in this house, so don’t you go saying there is, right? What’s the matter with you? You only wear mink, is that it, Miss Posh?’

  Now what have I said? ‘I told you, I’m not posh. I don’t have any fur, nor does my mum. It’s just …’ I stop, realising that my views on fur products are probably a modern thing, so Nelly’s not likely to understand what I’m on about. Maybe I should pretend to be allergic, but I don’t fancy having to sit out in the shelter in just this jacket.

  ‘Well, we ain’t got time to argue about it now,’ Nelly pushes past me. ‘You can wear it or freeze, I don’t care. Make sure you shut the back door behind you. We don’t want to come back and find Tiddles eating our rations.’ And then she’s gone.

  There’s a huge boom and the whole house shudders. I don’t hang around. With the fur coats in my arms I sprint down the hall and through the kitchen, slamming the back door behind me. The sirens are still wailing, and now there’s the distinct sound of aircraft flying over. I can hear the ack-ack-ack of the anti-aircraft guns, and as I run down the garden to the shelter I can see the lights searching the sky. Nelly is just in front of me, pushing aside the thick curtain inside the doorway. We pile inside and the curtain swishes back to block out the light from the lamp.

  ‘There you are,’ says May. ‘You took your time.’

  May takes her coat and puts it on. ‘Thanks, love. Ooh, I do love this old coat. When the war’s over I’m gonna remodel it so’s I can wear it up town.’ She sits down next to her sister and looks at me. ‘Don’t you want to get that on, Queenie? It’s blooming cold out here. If this goes on for long you’ll be freezing your bits off.’

  I look at the coat in my arms, torn between wanting to put it on and taking a stand against animal cruelty. I see Nelly glaring at me from the corner of my eye and decide I’d better go with the flow and worry about political correctness another time – or in another time. Ha! Get it? Oh crap, now I’m being stupid. It’s bloody cold and the coat looks really cosy. I slip it on, feeling its heavy weight on my shoulders. The lining is silky as the coat settles around me.

  ‘Your nan must have been a big woman too,’ I say to Nelly as sit down opposite her and snuggle into the coat. Mmm, it feels so glamourous. I’m like a little kid dressing up in her mum’s clothes.

  ‘Yeah, Dad says she was a substantial woman,’ says May. ‘I’m glad we take after the other side of the family.’

  ‘Queenie ain’t never had a fur coat,’ says Nell. ‘Thought we’d nicked it, she did.’

  May looks furious. ‘Bloody cheek!’

  ‘I did not!’ I snap. ‘Don’t put words in my mouth, OK? Where I come from we’ve got animal rights and people who would freak if you wore this in public. I saw a picture once of some catwalk models who had blood thrown at them for wearing fur. It was gross.’

  The sisters look at me as though I’ve gone mad. I glare back at them. I can feel my cheeks flushing, and I wish I’ve never said anything about this.

  An almighty explosion shakes the whole shelter. It happens so quickly I don’t have time to react.

  ‘Jesus, that was close,’ says Nelly. ‘Wait for it …’

  Before I can ask what we have to wait for, there’s a load of clattering as debris rains down on the shelter roof, and I duck, holding my hands over my head, expecting the whole lot to fall in on us. Puffs of dust seep in under the door, making us cough. The whole ground is shaking, we’re choking on the dust and the noise is terrific.

  What will Mum and Dad think if I just disappear forever? They might blame Gran. There’ll be a police search – people will think I’ve been kidnapped or murdered or something. Oh my God! This is getting serious. I’ve got to find a way home. I curl up on the bench and covered my ears, trying to work out how on earth I can get back to my own time when I had no idea how I ended up in 1940 in the first place.

  As the raid goes on and on, I wish I was at home, with Mum and Dad. I miss them so much. I’d hate it if I never saw them again. But then again, if I’m dead I won’t know the difference, will I?

  After what seems like ages, the noise is coming from further away.

  ‘Sounds like Jerry’s hitting the City now,’ says Nell.

  ‘Good,’ says May. ‘I’m busting for a pee. I’m going to nip out.’

  ‘Is it safe?’ I ask.

  ‘Gawd knows. But if I don’t go now, I’m going to wet meself.’ She pulls aside the curtain and pushes open the door. I get a glimpse of lightbeams shining through the darkness, searching for planes. The buildings are black silhouettes, outlined by the orange glow of fires. The little patch of garden lit by the glow of the paraffin lamp is covered in dust, broken bricks and pieces of charred wood.

  ‘Be careful!’ I shout, as May trips on something and only just manages to keep her footing.

  ‘I’m all right. Just shut that door before Jerry spots the light.’

  Nell stands up and closes the door. ‘She’ll be all right. It’s only a couple of yards to the lavvie.’

  ‘I know,’ I mutter under my breath, trying to stop my heart from racing right out of my body. ‘I know.’ I sit up. ‘If it’s all right to go out, can we go back in the house now?’ I shift from one butt cheek to the other, trying to ease the ache from sitting on a hard wooden bench for hours.

  ‘Not yet. We have to wait for the all-clear to sound. The planes could turn around any time, and if they’ve got any bombs left, the beggers will drop ’em anywhere. You might as well get comfortable. We’ll probably be here all night now.’

  ‘I don’t think I can sleep.’ I draw my knees up to my chest, pulling the coat over my feet. Ah, that’s warmer at least.

  ‘You’d better try. We’ve still got to go to work in the morning – unless the factory gets hit. If you don’t get no sleep, you’ll be good for nothing. That’s when girls get machine needles through their fingers.’

  ‘Eww, that sounds gross.’

  Nelly frowns. ‘You keep saying that. What does it mean?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Gross.’

  I shrug. ‘You know, horrible, nasty?’

  ‘Then why don’t you say so? I ain’t never heard anyone say “gross” when they mean “horrible” before. Round here a “gross” is twelve dozen.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know that. But I’m pretty useless as Maths. So, if a gross is twelve dozen, does that mean twelve times twelve? ‘

  Nell shakes her head. ‘You really are daft, ain’t you?’

  I can’t help giggling at her face. Now I know where Great-aunt Eleanor got her collection of disapproving looks from.

  The door opens and May comes back in. ‘That’s better,’ she sighs. ‘I thought I was goi
ng to burst.’

  ‘You could always use the pot under the bunk,’ says Nelly. ‘You don’t have to go out there.’

  May wrinkles her nose. ‘No thanks. That’s the last resort, that is.’

  I look under the bench where Nelly pointed. On the floor is a large china potty. For a moment it doesn’t click, then I recognise it. The last time I saw it was on the windowsill at the top of the stairs in Gran’s house. There, it’s full of cactus plants. I remember when Gran first told me what it was, I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself, imagining Gran squatting over it and getting prickled by the sharp cactus needles. Mum told me off for being rude, but Gran thought it was hilarious too.

  ‘That’s your “gazunder”!’ I say. That’s what Gran calls it, because it ‘goes under’ the bed, ready to be used if someone needed to go in the night and didn’t want to go outside to the toilet.

  ‘That’s right,’ said May. ‘And I ain’t using it in front of you two. It ain’t dignified.’

  I don’t think I could either. ‘I know what you mean. My gran keeps spiky cactus in hers. You definitely don’t want to be using that!’

  May shrieks with laughter, just like Gran does. ‘Oh my God,’ she says (only it sounds more like ‘gawd’ with her accent). ‘Prickly plants in a gazunder! Oh, don’t! Ha ha ha!’

  Nell tuts. ‘You’re as daft as each other, you two.’ We just look at her, grinning like Cheshire cats.

  The long, uninterrupted wail of the all clear starts up at last. ‘Thank God,’ says Nell. ‘We can sleep in our own beds tonight. Let’s get out of here before Jerry changes his mind again.’

  We pile back into the kitchen and take off our big coats. The clock on the wall says ten thirty. I offer to put the coats back on the hall stand. Who knows? Maybe I’ll just fall through it into the future. I approach it a bit nervously. I mean, what if it grabs me flings me to another time? I could end up anywhere. No, that’s daft, as Nelly would say. I saw Great-aunt Eleanor in there earlier, so it must still be connected to my time somehow. I just need to figure it out. I hang the coats up, staring into the mirror, willing it to take me home. Nothing. Damn.

  I’m exhausted and totally fed up, but go back to help the others finish tidying the kitchen before we go to bed. Nelly is as fussy about getting things done now as she is in the future, and I reckon it’s a good idea to keep on her good side. When the kitchen is spick and span, we say goodnight and go to our rooms.

  As I lie shivering in bed, I think about the day, and how different it’s been from the way I spend my time in the twenty-first century. Working in the factory is sort of fun at the moment, but I can see that it could become really boring if I had to do it day after day, week after week. I’ve never particularly liked school, but I don’t like the idea of having to leave to go to work, like Nelly and May did when they were only fourteen.

  I yawn and turn over, snuggling under the covers. I really must start to work out how to get back to my time. But right now, I’m just sooo tired. Maybe when I wake up, I’ll be home again …

  CHAPTER TEN

  It’s still dark when I wake up. I know straight away I’m still in 1940, because May is shaking me awake.

  ‘Come on, lazybones. Time to get up. Shift yourself, Queenie, or we’ll miss the bus.’

  I groan and turn over, pulling the covers over my head. ‘Go away. It’s the middle of the night.’ How can she be so bloody cheerful this time of the morning, when it’s freezing cold and miserable?

  May laughs. ‘Don’t you country bumpkins get up at the crack of dawn to milk the cows?’

  Not again. ‘That joke is getting old, May. I told you, I don’t live on a farm. Seriously this is not even dawn. It’s still dark.’

  ‘Come on, it’s nearly Christmas. It’s always dark this time of year. We still got to get to work, though, so shift your bum.’ She tries to pull the covers off me, but I grab them back and roll myself up so she can’t get them. I’m not getting out of here till I really have to. May gives up. ‘Suit yourself, Lazybones. There’s a nice warm cuppa downstairs, but if you don’t get a move on, you won’t have time to drink it. Nell says we ain’t waiting for you today, so I hope you remember how to get to work on your own.’

  Pants! I suppose I’d better get up then. I throw back the covers as May clatters down the stairs. Brrrrr! It’s sooo cold! How do they stand it? How did I ever not notice central heating before?

  I just about manage to drink half a lukewarm cup of tea and eat a slice of bread with a thin scraping of my precious butter ration before following the girls to the bus stop. I take a bit more notice of where we’re going today, just in case I have to find my own way anytime. Not that I want to wander around in the dark on my own, but you never know. I’m scared that if I let May and Nelly out of my sight I’ll get lost, and if I can’t find my way back to the house I’ll never find my way back to Gran. It makes me feel sick, just thinking about it.

  We’re at the bus-stop early in the end. I stand here shivering, thinking that I could have had a few more minutes in bed. But I don’t say anything because Nelly will only have something sarcastic to say about it, and I’m not in the mood for another row with her. So I stamp my feet, trying to get warm and pull my collar up so that I can keep the icy wind off my neck. It was so bright and warm when I got to Gran’s last week, it’s even harder to accept this awful weather. Like walking from the sunshine into a giant fridge. Brrrrrr! I stuff my hands in my pockets and wish the bus would hurry up.

  Just along the street is a newsagents. A bell tinkles as someone opens the door. I look round just as a tall soldier comes out with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He’s lighting a cigarette, cupping hands to shelter the flame from his lighter. Ugh! Filthy habit! I’ve never understood why anyone would want to take up smoking. Some of the kids at school have, and they stink.

  I’m just about to turn away when the soldier straightens up, taking a long drag from his cigarette. For a moment I think it’s my dad and I nearly call out. But then I realise it can’t be. Dad’s safe in the twenty-first century, somewhere in France, fixing a computer system. Anyway, this guy is much younger than my dad. I feel even more miserable now. I wish it was Dad, come to rescue me. But he can’t, can he? He probably doesn’t even know I’m missing yet.

  ‘Hello there.’ I look up to see the soldier smiling at me. He definitely looks familiar.

  ‘All right, Jock?’ says May. Ah, of course. Now I remember him. Disappointment coils tight in my stomach. Just a friend of the girls, that’s all. He still looks fit.

  ‘Yeah, May. How about you?’

  ‘Not bad. You going to the Palais tonight, or are you on duty?’

  He grins at her. ‘Got a couple of nights off, so I reckon I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Good,’ says Nelly. ‘You can stop her making a fool of herself. She’s only trying to get Flash Harry to be her partner for the dance competition.’

  Jock frowns. ‘Bloody hell, May. You don’t want to be seen with him. You’ll get yourself a bad name.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start n’all,’ says May. ‘I only want to dance with him. We’d be a shoe-in to win that prize, and it’s well worth having.’

  Jock shakes his head. ‘You better watch yourself with him. I reckon your dad won’t be none too happy about you stepping out with the likes of that toe-rag.’

  May sticks her nose in the air. ‘Well he ain’t here and he didn’t make you me uncle, so if you want to stay mates with me you’d better mind your own business, thanks very much.’

  ‘He’s only saying what we’re all thinking, May,’ says Nelly. ‘That fella’s bad news.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, for Christ’s sake! I’m sick of hearing it. It’s only a dance. I can look after myself.’

  Whoa! I’ve never seen May so bad-tempered. Even Nelly looks a bit shocked.

  ‘Well, see you do,’ she says.

  Jock looks like he wants to say something else, but Nell shakes her head and he gives up. I shift my feet,
cold and fed up. The movement catches his attention and he looks at me surprised, like he’s forgotten I’m here. Nice. Make me feel better, why don’t you?

  Nelly sees him looking. ‘This is Queenie,’ she says. ‘We didn’t have time to introduce you yesterday.’

  ‘Oh yeah, you’re billeted with the girls, ain’t you?’ I nod. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  He holds out a hand and I reluctantly take mine out my warm pocket. Even though he’s not wearing gloves, his large grip is warm as we shake hands. I get the weirdest feeling – like electricity has flowed between us, or does that sound too Mills and Boon? It’s true though. I feel a tingling all the way up my arm and my heart starts to pump like I’m running, but I just stand there like an idiot. He must feel it too, because he drops my hand really quickly and steps back. Oh no, this isn’t good. This sort of thing shouldn’t be happening. I can’t fancy a guy who was born decades before me. That’s just not right. I take a deep breath, trying to think of something intelligent to say, but my mind is blank. I open my mouth and shut it again, and look at Nelly. She’s got a smirk on her face.

  ‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Queenie,’ says Jock. ‘I’ll maybe see you girls at the Palais tonight then?’ He’s looking at May as he says it, but she ignores him, so Nelly says ‘Yeah, all right, Jock. We’ll see you later. Say hello to your nan for us.’

  ‘Will do, Nell.’ He takes another puff of his cigarette, then drops it. He grounds it out under his boot, then with a last quick nod he’s marching off down the road just as the bus pulls up.

  I can’t tell you how many times in my life Gran has gone on about ‘the good old days’. I stopped listening when I was about five. How was I to know that one day I’d actually end up here? I really wish I’d listened to her now. I definitely didn’t believe all those stories about how great the dances were. I’m still not completely convinced. I mean, how can you have a good time in the middle of a war?