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But she was here now; and Mildred straightened her back as she heard the steps on her stairs and the burr of Queenie’s voice. And then frowned. Why should Queenie drag herself up here to bring Poppy, who never needed announcing? And she pulled her shawl a little closer round her throat, filled with a sudden doubt.

The door opened and there was Queenie. ‘Well, Madam,’ she said sourly, glaring at Mildred over her thick glasses. ‘This’ll not please you, I’ll be bound,’ and she stepped aside and Mildred stared and then couldn’t help herself. Her face cracked into a wide smile and she held out her arms.

‘My dear Joshy!’ she cried. ‘My very dear child! How delightful to see you!’

He was across the room like a scalded cat, and threw his arms around her and held on, his head half buried in her skirts.

‘Oh, Grandma, I’m so pleased to see you! I was so afraid you’d be angry with me!’

She put her hands on his shoulders and made him stand back a little so that she could look down into his face, which was streaked with railway soot.

‘I’m very cross indeed with you, you naughty boy,’ she said but her voice was filled with affection. ‘You know you must stop this running away! Your Mama will be very put out, and rightly so!’

‘But Grandma, I had to! I wouldn’t have if he hadn’t done it, but I had to!’

‘If who hadn’t done what? Have you had supper?’

He lit up. ‘Oh, no. Nor tea either. I’m empty. I could be a drum, I’m so empty.’ And he beat his hands on his belly. ‘Hear it? I can.’

‘Don’t be vulgar,’ Mildred said. ‘Queenie, bread and milk, I think, with honey in it. And a cup of cocoa and he can have a ginger biscuit from the special tin. Hurry along now.’ And as Queenie turned to go, moving with all the speed and elegance, Mildred thought impatiently, of a farm cart drawn by an ox, and with a sulky look on her face that Mildred considered it best to ignore.

‘Well now,’ Mildred said as soon as they were alone. ‘Come and sit by the fire and tell me all about it. Why did you have to run away? And what did he do, whoever he is, to make it necessary?’

Joshy took a deep breath. ‘It was the trumpet,’ he said and suddenly his grimy face looked bleak. ‘I was getting on ever so well with it, truly I was, Grandma, and I think he was jealous – ’

‘He?’ Mildred said patiently.

‘A horrible person. His name’s Ted Thaxted and I hate him. He was in the choir with me and everything and came to have lessons on his stupid cornet from Mr Rawlings who was my teacher before rotten old Ted Thaxted started going to him and I was much better than him even though he’s twelve and I’m ten and he got jealous and he got hold of my trumpet and he stamped on it and bashed it with a stone until it got nearly flat and then he ran off with it and threw it into the dyke and I wish I could kill him and – ’

‘Now just a moment!’ Mildred held up one minatory hand. ‘Didn’t you tell any of the grown-ups about what he did? Surely someone would have dealt with the matter – ’

‘Oh, yes of course I did,’ Joshy said disgustedly. ‘I didn’t care if it was sneaking, a chap can’t have his trumpet stolen and spoiled and still not be a sneak can he? But Mr Rawlings said
he couldn’t do anything about it because when they got it out of the dyke it was too spoiled to mend and you can’t get new ones in wartime and he said I could have Ted Thaxted’s cornet but I hate the cornet and I didn’t want to play it. I wanted my trumpet.’ And for the first time he looked tearful. ‘The trumpet you gave me.’

‘My dear, I am so sorry,’ Mildred said. ‘That was a dreadful thing to have happened – what a very wicked boy that must be!’

‘He got a whipping anyway,’ Joshy said with some satisfaction. ‘And I thought serve him right but then some of his friends sort of started getting mad at me and it got rather awful at school – and well, I had to come home, Grandma. You can see that, can’t you?’

There was a silence as they heard Queenie’s creaking steps on the stairs. ‘Yes,’ Mildred said then. ‘Yes, I can see that. But all the same – well, eat your supper first – then we’ll talk.’

Joshy found that bread and milk which he had long ago dismissed as horrible baby food didn’t taste half bad when you were as hungry as he was and when it had been as plentifully laced with honey as Queenie had prepared it, and he swallowed every drop as well as the cocoa and three biscuits she had brought him. Sour as she was, even Queenie had a soft spot for Joshy.

He was leaning back in his chair with a visibly rounded belly, for it had been a very large bowl of bread and milk, and looking decidedly sleepy and Mildred stared at him for a long moment, smiling a little, and then sighed.

‘You’ll have to go home, Joshy,’ she said. ‘No, don’t look like that. I dare say your mother will be cross at first, but once you tell her what happened over the trumpet she’ll understand. You must go now.’

‘Oh, Grandma, I’m so sleepy!’ he said and looked at her winningly. ‘Can’t I go to bed now and p’raps go in the morning?’

She shook her head, smiling. ‘I never thought the day would come when you didn’t plead passionately to stay out of bed at all costs. No, my dear, home you must go. This happened once before you see, and I took time sending her home and – ’

‘What do you mean?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s an old, long story. Ask your Mama some time, or ask Robin. Anyway, I really must send you
straight home now. I wish I could take you there, but – well, I can’t manage that. Not at my age and at this time of night. I’m not happy about sending you, but it must be done. We’ll get our usual cab driver. He understands me, since he’s getting on in years himself, and he takes me everywhere I have to go when I do go out. Which isn’t often these bad days – but there, I know I can trust him to take good care of you. Just touch the bell there, Joshy, and we’ll make all arrangements.’

‘Will you talk to Mama on the telephone and explain first?’ Joshy said and Mildred smiled.

‘I think that’s an excellent idea. I will. Let me get the matter sorted out first though. I don’t want to call her too soon or she’ll get over-anxious. As soon as the cab comes and we can see you on your way, then I shall indeed call her. So you have no need to fret yourself – ah, Queenie. We must telephone Albert and get him to come round at once.’

‘Albert? But it’s nearly half past eleven, madam!’ Queenie looked horrified.

‘That cannot be helped,’ Mildred said with all the imperiousness of one who takes good service for granted. ‘Tell him my grandson is here and has to be taken home at once and I can trust no one else but him with the task. He’ll understand. See to it that he gets twice the usual fare for the journey. He’ll have earned it – ’

The cab pulled away from the kerb with Joshy, looking rather subdued as well as sleepy now, sitting in one corner of it and Albert, who was far from pleased to be called from his bed at this hour of night, even for twice the fare, in a decidedly bad temper, not that Mildred knew, or would have cared unduly if she had. After the years of tolerating Queenie’s sulks she took such moods for granted in those who looked after her needs.

She stood by the window peering round the blackout curtain, watching the cab disappear into the darkness, and then reached for the phone. Poppy might be in bed herself, but what did that matter? She would have to get up; and a frisson of mild malice entered Mildred. She loved her daughter dearly and understood the pressures on her, but there were times when she felt herself overlooked. After all, she hadn’t called her for almost two weeks now. And waking her with this news would in a sense serve her right. And she picked up the telephone.

But however long she hung on, however often she replaced the receiver and then called again, there was no answer, and she stood there and stared out at her blacked-out window with her face puckered. Perhaps she shouldn’t have sent Joshy back until she had been certain they were there at home waiting for him, and she prayed that Albert would have the sense to bring him back if no one answered the door when they arrived.

The cab went remarkably quickly along the Bayswater Road, heading west, and Joshy leaned forwards to stare out of the window, trying to see. But it was very dark, not so much as a hint of starshine, let alone moonshine, and everywhere muffled in blackout shutters and curtains, and he caught his breath as the cab swerved to the left. Clearly it had been too near the middle of the road and the oncoming car which passed them going in the other direction had nearly hit them.

‘That was close,’ he said through the little glass shutter that separated him from Albert, but he just grunted, ‘Stupid devil that was –’ and went on, and again Joshy stared out of the window ahead, trying to see over Albert’s shoulder what might be coming towards them.

There wasn’t much traffic and Albert put his foot down and again the cab shot forwards, and this time Joshy held on like grim death to the leather strap beside him, because the cab was decidedly old and rattling rather ominously. It would never do to be landed on the floor and arrive home with bruises. That would really make Mummy get in a state –

When it happened it was so sudden that Joshy didn’t hear it, let alone see it. There was a shuddering bang and then the cab turned right round and hit a lamppost on the kerb, flinging Joshy to the floor in spite of his holding the leather strap, and then out on to the road, where he actually bounced, grazing the side of his leg as he did so. He shouted in protest, but there were other noises now, more shouting and running feet and he sat there dazed, for what seemed a long time, trying to get his head to stop spinning.

Someone appeared beside him, bent down, prodded him. ‘You all right, kid?’ he said in a throaty voice.

‘Think so,’ Joshy said. ‘Got a grazed leg –’ And then he was suddenly copiously sick, sending half-digested bread and milk in all directions.

‘Strewth,’ the man jumped back. ‘Better get you to the hospital – Fred!’ he bawled then. ‘Got a kid ’ere. Throwing up something rotten. Get him to the next ambulance will you? How’s the other one?’

‘Looks dead to me,’ a voice came back from the darkness. ‘Can’t be sure but he’s pretty battered. The other one’s got a busted leg and ’e’s unconscious – ’

Joshy was looking a bit better now, and he reached out and pulled on the trouser leg of the man standing beside him.

‘Is Albert all right?’

‘Who?’

‘The driver of the cab I was in – that’s Albert – ’

‘Hmm. Well, sonny, he’s the one with the broken leg, I think, and the knockout. Gone to the hospital – St Mary’s down Praed Street. We’ll get you there soon – ’

‘No, I’ve got to get home –’ Joshy said and struggled to his feet. He really was feeling rather awful again.

‘What’s the address, sonny?’

Joshy, bewildered as he was, didn’t stop to think. ‘Endlane Farm, near Forncett St Paul, Norwich –’ he said. It had been his address for so long now that he’d almost forgotten the Norland Square one.

The man bent and peered into his face. ‘Ah!’ he said with great satisfaction. ‘Runaway vaccie, are you? Well, well, who’d ha’ thought it? We’ll soon get you back there, sonny, and no error! Come on now. Get you cleaned up and settled. Here’s the ambulance, thank Gawd. Come on then. On your way – ’

The train pulled into Euston so slowly that it seemed to Poppy it was hardly moving at all, but at last it touched the buffers and there was a shudder and finally it stopped, and she stretched a little in her seat and peered across at David.

He was sitting bolt upright in the corner, his head resting against the criss-crossed sticky tape that adorned the window, and his mouth half open, snoring. Lucky man, she thought for a moment, to sleep like that through such a pig of a journey, and she moved awkwardly as the man beside her got up and collected his bag from the rack and picked his way out over David’s outstretched leg. He gave Poppy a glare as he passed her, and Poppy almost stuck her tongue out at him, knowing it would be childish but wanting to all the same. It hadn’t been her fault that David needed to take up so much space with his massive plaster.

Really he should have travelled by ambulance, but there were simply none to spare for such a long journey from Liverpool, which had had more than its fair share of raids, too, and they had been lucky to get on to the train at all. But then a woman who had been squeezed into the far corner came picking her way out of the carriage too, and she leaned over Poppy and patted her shoulder and said in a breathy little voice, ‘My dear, I do hope your poor husband is well again soon – such a worry when one’s loved ones are hurt, isn’t it? Do let me give you this –’ And she pushed a piece of paper into Poppy’s hand and beamed at her and climbed out of the train.

Poppy looked down at the paper and shook her head in mild exasperation. It was a tract from a religious society of some sort, exhorting its readers to take up their consciences and
follow their God, rather than their country’s flag, because that was the best way to deal with an enemy – and she looked over at David’s exhausted face and remembered the tales he had told her of the way German U-boats had pursued the convoy for a large part of their journey and how they had attacked unarmed merchant ships, and her gorge rose. She had never been particularly patriotic, had never found herself waving the Union Jack with fervour at Empire Day parades, but she knew with every fibre in her that this was a war that had to be fought; and she remembered Hamish and how Robin had looked at him, and frowned and then shook her head. No time for that sort of worry now.

‘David.’ She leaned over him and gently shook his shoulder. The carriage was empty now, and she could get him out. ‘We’re in London, darling. Almost home – wake up.’

Even before his eyes were open his arms came up and wrapped themselves around her and he pulled her down until her face was buried in his coat and she laughed, making a muffled protest, and he hugged her even more tightly.

‘Of all great words of tongue or pen the greatest are these, “We’re home again!”’ he said and let her go. ‘I swear I’ll never complain of anything ever again. To be home – and have a bath – ’

‘Not in that cast you won’t,’ Poppy said, and he made a face.