Lucinda caught the first train from Paddington and because she’d purchased a first-class ticket she found a seat. It was a short journey, with fewer stops than she’d anticipated, and she arrived at Hatfield station in far less than an hour.

  A lady in a green overall, a member of the WRVS, handed her an enamel mug of tea from the canteen trolley as she passed it. She drank it gratefully as she’d left Uncle Harold’s flat long before he’d got up.

  It was barely light, the temperature seemed to have dropped by several degrees, but the sky was clear with no sign of further snow falling. There were no taxis, no RAF transport vehicles, in fact nobody she could even ask for directions from.

  She walked back into the station and found a guard. ‘I have to get to Hatfield airbase – could you please tell me how to get there on foot?’

  ‘It’s a long walk, but you look fit enough. No more than two miles, stay on this road until you leave the town. You’ll come to a crossroads, take the first left and Bob’s your uncle. With any luck you’ll get a lift, there’s plenty of traffic goes up and down that road to the airfield, taking things to the de Havilland factory and that.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ve got to be there by nine o’clock. Even in this weather I’m certain I can walk that distance and be there in plenty of time.’

  She’d not been walking for long when a lorry pulled up beside her. A friendly young officer in RAF blue wound down the window and leaned out.

  ‘Do you want a lift, miss?’

  ‘I do, if that’s not too much trouble. I need to get to Hatfield airfield.’

  ‘Then hop in the back, there’s a couple of WAAF already in there. Are you a secretary?’

  ‘No, I’m hoping to join the ATA. Thank you so much. I really don’t want to be late.’

  He looked less friendly. ‘You won’t be flying today, miss, too cold.’

  He didn’t offer to come round and let down the back of the vehicle which she thought rather rude, but she was tall enough to be able to do it for herself. She was looking forward to meeting some other young women doing their bit for the war.

  She hurried around to the rear and the two WAAF were waiting for her. ‘Chuck up your cases, then Jill and I will heave you in to join us.’

  Ralph was incandescent to be escorted from Lucinda’s flat like a common criminal but thought antagonising these detectives would just exacerbate the situation. If that girl had spoken up for him then he wouldn’t be in this position. If these plods did as they threatened and informed the colonel he might well lose his position and be forced to join the army and put his life on the line. He thanked God it was the blackout and no one would have seen his disgrace.

  The sergeant drove, the inspector sat beside him, and he was on the back seat. Thank God he hadn’t been handcuffed. The Luftwaffe were on their way – the huge lights were arcing the sky, searching for targets. The balloons had been wound up and no doubt the fighters were screaming towards the incoming bombers.

  The sirens began their distinctive rise and fall. The car stopped abruptly, shooting him forward so he banged his knees painfully on the back of the seat.

  Without turning round, the inspector spoke to him. ‘Get out, Castleton, think yourself lucky, I’ve got better things to do than take you to the yard.’

  Ralph had never got out of a car so fast. He watched it speed away, his fists clenched, his pulse rapid. That was a narrow escape – he’d been lucky. But God knows what he was going to tell Leone about her missing bracelet.

  An ARP warden saw him standing on the pavement and blew his whistle. ‘Down the underground, it’s nearer than the shelter, you don’t want to stand about out here. We’re in for a pasting tonight.’

  Ralph raised his hand, showing he’d heard and understood. He was only a few yards from Sloane Square underground and ran down the steps behind a dozen or so others. He doubted there’d be as many sheltering in this area as the big houses and wealthy residents would have their own arrangements.

  He was astonished at how many people were down there and even more surprised when he heard the distinctive rumble of a train approaching. His luck was certainly holding tonight as he could catch this train and get off at Charing Cross and from there it would be easy to get back to Westminster.

  He barely managed to squeeze in the packed underground train. This surprised him as most people would be travelling in the opposite direction, not towards the centre of London in the middle of an air raid.

  The following morning, he arrived early and was at his desk dealing with some urgent paperwork when a secretary called him on the telephone to say that the colonel wanted to see him. This wasn’t a good sign.

  ‘I told you that you were on thin ice, Castleton, and last night you fell through it. I just received a telephone call from Scotland Yard. You can imagine my reaction to the news that one of my senior intelligence officers had been cautioned for trespass and attempted burglary.’

  ‘I wasn’t cautioned, sir, I returned home and didn’t go to the Yard.’

  ‘I don’t give a rat’s arse whether you were officially cautioned or not. Your position here is terminated. You will report to Major Branston upstairs immediately. You were an officer cadet, you’re now a junior lieutenant in the army. The major will give you the details of your new position.’

  Ralph nodded and walked out. His life was ruined. He could be posted to some godforsaken place in a desert or a jungle. His wasn’t the only life that was about to be upended – Lucinda Somiton would suffer for her interference. Being stuck in the laundry wasn’t punishment enough, he’d think of something more destructive, life changing, totally ruin her smug little life.

  17

  Emily had told her parents about Jimmy Smith and her concerns that he was being neglected.

  ‘Doris says that if we involve the authorities then it’s likely he’ll be taken to a children’s home or orphanage. Also, the other children living there might be in danger of being removed as well.’

  ‘I’m quite certain that with so many orphans, abandoned children and homeless families no one’s going to do anything about the other children. It’s just this little boy who’s the problem,’ Daddy said.

  ‘My friends are going to keep an eye on him. He’s getting lunch at school – I’m not altogether sure how they manage that, but he said he got things like mince and potatoes, steamed pudding, bubble and squeak – that sort of thing. It’s good to know that during the week he’s being fed.’

  ‘I expect the teacher knows his circumstances and is keeping an eye on him. He’s not our responsibility, Emily, but I’m proud of you and your friends for caring so much,’ Mummy said.

  ‘Are the boys able to go back on Monday? Has the fire damage at their school been repaired?’ Emily asked.

  ‘No, the winter holiday has been extended for a further week. They’ll be back on the 15th. I haven’t dared tell them that they’re going to miss their half-term break in order to catch up on some of the missed time,’ Daddy said.

  Lucinda had left for London on Tuesday afternoon and since then the weather had deteriorated. The only good thing about this was it was probably too heavy for the Luftwaffe to come. Emily didn’t think that Knightsbridge, where Lucinda was going, had been bombed so far as most of them had been dropped on the docks and in the East End.

  Things had settled down at school and normal lessons had resumed. Things would have been tickety-boo if it wasn’t for the fact that the girls who’d joined them immediately formed an anti-scholarship group and were doing everything they could to make life difficult.

  Obviously, the nine of them got together and tried to look out for each other. They ate together, spent break time together and now sat during lessons as far away from the other group as they could. The class had divided into two cliques, and it was inevitable that things would escalate and one of their teachers would notice.

  This happened on the Wednesday when the ringleader of the others instigated a confrontation. Emily, Penny, and the girls with whom she’d now become more friendly went to collect their coats and change out of their indoor shoes as today had been deemed clement enough to spend at least half the lunch break outside in the snow.

  ‘My boots and coat have gone from my peg,’ Sarah said, ‘I know I put them in the right place when I arrived this morning.’

  This was then they discovered all their things had been taken. They couldn’t go out as they were and would be punished if they were found inside when it was an outside break time.

  ‘We can’t take theirs as they’ve already gone outside,’ Penny said, ‘but we can take their indoor shoes.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Emily said. ‘At the moment they’re in the wrong but if we retaliate then we’ll be in trouble too.’

  Her comment was disregarded, even by Penny. ‘I hope you’re not going to tell tales, Emily Roby,’ one of them said in a decidedly unfriendly way.

  ‘No, but I’m not going to participate in whatever you plan to do. I’ve a sudden desperate need to visit the WC.’

  If she didn’t see what they did then she couldn’t be asked difficult questions and be forced to lie. She was surprised that Penny had sided with the others – maybe she wasn’t such a good friend after all. Then the outer door to the loos banged and she was joined by two others.

  ‘Sorry,’ Penny said with a sheepish smile. ‘I don’t know why I sided with them and not you. I really don’t want to get into any trouble and I don’t think retaliating is going to help matters.’

  Joyce, the frizzy-redheaded girl from Great Horkesley, grinned. ‘We can’t lurk in here for long without the prefects turfing us out. Why don’t we go to the art room?’

  They took the back stairs which meant they avoided the cloakrooms and therefore wouldn’t see what was going on and arrived in a rush to find the art mistress, Mrs Brown, in the process of putting up a wall display of drawings and paintings done by the girls who’d been relocated.

  ‘Excellent, I was hoping some of my favourite girls would wander up here rather than go outside. I need to get this done before the bell goes and with your help that should be easily accomplished.’

  They spent the remainder of the lunch break covering the walls with the watercolours and pencil drawings. Mrs Brown thanked them and reminded them that they were welcome to spend time in her room whenever they wanted.

  On the way back to the form room a few minutes before the bell was due to ring, Penny said what Emily was thinking. ‘They weren’t very good, were they? I suppose that’s why the display will remain in the art room and not be downstairs where everyone can see them.’

  They were halfway down the stairs when the siren began to wail. Emily frowned. ‘Now we’re in trouble, we’re going to have to go to the shelter as we are and there’s going to be a dreadful fuss.’

  The rule was to exit by the nearest door and this was at the bottom of the staircase they were on. ‘Maybe we’ll be all right,’ Joyce said, ‘as we’ve been in the art room we couldn’t go to the cloakroom to change anyway.’

  ‘Good point. For all we know they’ve put everything back. Come on, I’m not going to be late. There must be others in a similar situation, as not everybody would have been outside.’

  They were frozen, their indoor shoes sopping wet, by the time they reached the shelter on the other side of the school playground. Emily was pleased to see they weren’t the only ones who’d been obliged to troop out in indoor things.

  There were two shelters – the babies and the prep school girls plus the lower fourth went in one and the upper fourth and lower fifth in the other. Their shelter was half-full already and it was too gloomy to see if the other scholarship girls had found their boots and coats before coming out.

  There was a hum of conversation until Miss King, the headmistress, arrived and closed the door. Then it was deathly quiet, breath steaming in front of them, everybody shivering.

  ‘Girls, as you know the boys’ school was damaged by incendiary bombs and will not be open for another week. If school had been open and the building occupied there might have been fatalities and injuries. Therefore, we shall be taking the warning siren more seriously in future.’

  There was a chorus of ‘Yes, Miss King,’ and a general shuffling of bottoms on the benches.

  ‘Settle down, girls, I know it’s cold in here and some of you didn’t have the opportunity to put on your outdoor clothes. Being cold won’t kill you, having a bomb dropped on you certainly would.’

  Usually, one of the teachers would instigate a lively game of ‘I packed my bag’ but today this didn’t happen. Slowly the girls began to talk amongst themselves, everybody on edge, ready to be silent if told.

  Slowly Emily’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, there was just one oil lamp at the exit and one at the other end so whoever was unfortunate enough to have to use the chemical toilet behind the curtain could see what they were doing.

  Sitting opposite was the ringleader of the other group, on either side of her were the rest of the clique. Emily couldn’t see the other scholarship girls and this bothered her.

  ‘Penny, Joyce, can you see the others? I’m worried they might be inside.’

  The three of them swivelled in their seats. Joyce bravely pretended she needed the primitive WC so she could walk to that end. Emily walked the other way, where the teachers were, her mind racing, trying to think of something to say that would seem like a valid reason to be out of her seat.

  ‘Excuse me, Mrs Brown, my feet are soaking wet, I’ve already got chilblains, would it be better to take my socks off or stay as I am?’ She’d deliberately chosen the art teacher as she was less likely to get her head bitten off for impertinence or disobedience.

  ‘Take your socks off, Emily, tell the other girls in a similar situation to do the same. I was told that if your clothes are wet when the temperature is below zero you’re better off naked rather than keeping them on.’

  This was such an unexpected reply, even Miss King laughed. ‘Good heavens, Mrs Brown, don’t give the girls ideas. I think having bare feet is enough excitement for today.’

  Emily squelched back to her place on the bench and then the three of them removed their socks and put their feet back into their wet indoor shoes.

  ‘We’re really sorry for playing that prank, Emily, we didn’t intend that any of you would have to come outside without your things. We only kept them for a little while, we just wanted to see your reaction, then we put them back.’

  ‘That’s all very well, Cynthia, but five of my friends are still inside because of what you did. If a bomb drops on the school and they die, then it’ll be your fault.’

  Emily immediately regretted her words to the girl sitting opposite her in the shelter. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, if my friends remained inside then that’s their decision. There are several of us in here who came out in our indoor things – they could have done the same thing.’

  ‘Thank you for saying that, Emily, all this is my fault. It was supposed to be a prank, but it turned into something much worse. I don’t know why we’ve got to this point, but I’d like us to at least be civil to each other in future.’

  ‘I’ve never been anything but civil to you, the unpleasantness has come entirely from your side of the classroom. However, as far as I’m concerned the matter’s closed. I can’t speak for those that aren’t here.’

  Miss King spoke from the door. ‘The all-clear has just sounded, thank goodness. Will those in their indoor shoes and no coats come forward first. Go at once to your cloakroom and put on your outside garments and shoes and then go to the dining hall. I shall arrange for a hot drink to be brought out to you.’

  There were three girls in front of Emily and several behind her and they made a concerted dash for the exit. The all-clear was a continuous sound and a very welcome one. With her wet socks rolled up in a ball in her hand, she crunched over the snow and back in the way she’d exited, her two friends were close behind her.

  ‘I wonder where the others are? I don’t think anybody took a name call,’ Penny said through chattering teeth.

  ‘I don’t care. It was their decision. If they get into trouble, it’s nothing to do with us,’ Emily replied.

  As promised, the missing garments and shoes were back where they should have been in the first place. Like most of the girls, Emily wore two pairs of socks in her boots and perched on the narrow bench beneath the coat pegs to pull the second pair on her icy feet. Her boots followed and then she stood up and grabbed her coat. It was easier to put that on out of the narrow confines of the cloakroom area.

  Penny and Joyce did the same. Then the eight shivering girls hurried down the corridor to the dining hall.

  ‘Goodness, the others are in here. And from the sound of it, the kitchen staff didn’t bother to go out to the shelter. I wonder if Miss King’s aware of that?’ Emily said.

  After a mug of delicious sweetened cocoa, made with actual milk and not water, plus a piece of Victoria sandwich, those that had come in with her were warm and chatting freely.

  ‘We’d better get to class,’ Penny said, ‘we’ve been here twenty minutes already.’

  ‘I don’t think Miss Hodgkins will appreciate us trooping in halfway through a maths lesson. I’m going to stay here until the bell goes,’ Joyce said.

  The scholarship girls had left as soon as they’d heard other girls in the corridor returning to their form rooms, hoping to mingle with them and that their absence hadn’t been noted.

  Those that had permission to be in the dining hall agreed with Joyce and remained where they were until the end-of-lesson bell was rung. The final double period today was history and, as the teacher came to them, they would be in their form room on the first floor.

  For the first time since classes had been reorganised at the start of the January term, the atmosphere was less fraught. Instead of the scholarship girls sitting isolated on the far side of the classroom, they sat where there were empty seats. Cynthia had ended the unnecessary quarrel – thank goodness.