Catching Falling Stars (16 page)

I don’t know much about Archie since he never talks – he just stares a lot with those puppy-dog eyes. As for Jess, well, she still scares me a bit. Quite a lot, actually.

“Er, aren’t pubs closed on a Sunday?” I ask Jess, as the thought suddenly occurs to me.

“Yeah, but sometimes Charlie the landlord has some friends round, for a
private
drink,” she says with a wink. “And the place was lively last night, with everyone talking about the plane! I was cleaning glasses till all hours.”

I feel a twinge of pity for Jess, having to work till late last night, when all I’d had to do was cuddle up in Auntie Sylvia’s comfy spare bed with Rich and his toys.

“Hey, remember that pub on the corner back home, Archie?” Jess turns and asks the other boy. “That place was mad on a Friday night! What was it called again? The Lamb and what?”

“The L-L-Lamb and F-F-Flag,” Archie stutters his reply.

I’m so unused to hearing his voice that it’s always a surprise to hear how soft and low it is compared to Lawrence’s confident boom.

“They were evacuated together,” Lawrence tells me now, while Jess gabbles some story about the rowdy-sounding Lamb and Flag and she and Archie fall around laughing behind us. “They went to the same school in the East End of London.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize the two of them knew each other before they came to Thorntree,” I say as we walk ahead together.

I also had no idea that Archie had an actual stammer. When the plane came at us, I thought he was just stuttering in shock. But if he has a real, actual stammer … that must be the reason why he never answers a question in class, or talks out loud in front of everyone.

“So Jess and Archie have been in Thorntree over a year?” I ask, keen to know more.

“Uh-huh,” says Lawrence, lazily kicking at a stone in the road and sending it flying. “And when they were evacuated, the rest of their school got billeted in Basildon, except for them.”

“What do you mean? Why didn’t they stay in Basildon too?” I ask.

“They didn’t get picked by anyone there,” Lawrence says with a shrug. “The evacuation officer had to scramble around half the villages in Essex trying to persuade someone to take the two of them in.”

“Oh, how awful,” I reply. “But
why
didn’t they get picked?”

“Well, Archie won’t talk to anyone he doesn’t know, ’cause of his stammer, so people thought something was wrong with him,” Lawrence says matter-of-factly. “And Jess – she’s just a bit mouthy, isn’t she? You can imagine how well
that
went down!”

“You talking about me, Florence?” Jess bursts in, jumping on Lawrence’s back.

“Oi – don’t call me that!” Lawrence laughs, trying to wriggle her off him, but she hangs on so tight he ends up giving her a piggyback. “Anyway, I was just telling Glory why you two ended up here on your own.”

At his words, Jess stops grinning and flops her head on Lawrence’s shoulder. She shoots me a sideways glance.

“I miss my lot,” she says, almost softly. “Got three brothers and a sister in Basildon. Only seen them once since we got here. But then I haven’t seen the two little ones at all; they’re back in London with my mum and dad.”

“There are seven of you?” I gasp at the size of her family. “There are only three of us, and that’s bad enough.”

Of course it’s not bad at all, even when Lil takes over the dressing table with all her things and keeps dropping her hairpins on the floor for me to stand on in bare feet…

“It’s like I’ve got two brothers: Harry and you,” says Lawrence, turning to grin at Archie. They’re obviously the best of best buddies for him to say that.

“So have you got brothers –
real
ones, I mean – Archie?” I ask him.

“N-n-no. It’s just me and my m-m-mum. Haven’t s-s-seen her in a year.”

Archie is blushing as he speaks, as if he’s shy of letting me hear his voice.

“I hope my parents come to visit us soon,” I say wistfully. “But I don’t know when I’ll see my sister, Lil, again. She’s in the Land Army.”

“What – she
chose
to work with pigs and digging and stuff?” Jess sniggers. “I mean, Popeye’s quite sweet, but cleaning up after him … urgh! If I was older,
I’d
join up proper. Be a WAAF. See a bit of action.”

“You’d be stuck at a desk, serving tea to the officers, you mean!” Lawrence teases her, and runs off at a gallop with Jess giggling on his back.

Which leaves me and Archie dawdling on our own together.

“Hey, G-Glory, did you know that on S-S-Saturday night, there’s a film sh-showing in the ch-church hall?” Archie suddenly says enthusiastically.

“Really?” I reply.

I
am
interested; that sounds fun. But I’m also slightly preoccupied with watching Lawrence and Jess gallop and yelp their way closer to the cottage. I hope Auntie Sylvia doesn’t look out and see who’s making all the noise.

“Uh-huh. I don’t know what f-f-film they’ll be showing yet. But the fish and chip van is coming to the village too. See?”

Archie points at a chalkboard sign saying as much, leaning up against the side of the pub. But I can’t concentrate on reading the board or listening properly to what Archie is saying because Lawrence has come to a stop
right
in front of the cottage, and Jess is waving madly at us to hurry over and see something.

“I’d better find out what’s going on,” I say to Archie, and break into a run.

He follows me, and we arrive beside Lawrence and Jess, who each have a forefinger pressed to their lips.

They’re staring through the cottage window, watching as tall, grey owl Auntie Sylvia waltzes – awkwardly – with my seven-year-old brother. I can hear some scratchy old tune being played.

“Ppppffffff!” Jess snorts, which sets Lawrence off.

“Shush!” I whisper, trying to shut them up.

But it’s too late.

Auntie Sylvia turns and frowns at us all.

“B-b-bye!” says Archie, as he, Lawrence and Jess scuttle away before the front door is thrown open.

“What’s going on, Glory?” Auntie Sylvia demands, looking along the road at the fast-retreating figures of my friends.

“Nothing! I was just walking home with them and—”

“Inside, please.”

Her voice is stern. I think she is either cross with me, cross with Lawrence, Jess and Archie, or cross with herself for being spotted doing something frivolous.

“Look, Glory!” Rich chatters excitedly as the door clicks shut. “Auntie Sylvia got the gramophone to work. And she was showing me how her dad taught her to dance when she was a little girl!”

“Now, dear, I really don’t want you hanging around with those children,” Auntie Sylvia says to me, crossing her arms and ignoring Rich completely. “They’re really not very nice.”

“Oh, but I didn’t think they were very nice either,” I try to explain, “till they helped save me and Rich yesterday.”

“They didn’t ‘save’ you, Glory,” Auntie Sylvia corrects me in quite a stern, teacherly voice. “You were all just in the same place at the same time, and very lucky to escape serious harm.”

“Glory, Glory, Glory?” mumbles Rich, coming to slip his hand into mine. He doesn’t like the heated way we’re talking to each other.

“It’s fine, Rich,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze.

Because of him, I’m not going to argue with Auntie Sylvia, but I feel suddenly so frustrated and confused. Why is
everything
so muddled in this village? Why is Auntie Sylvia being so unfair and unkind about Lawrence and the others? She doesn’t seem to want to believe that Archie was brave enough to put himself in danger to push me and Jess out of harm’s way. And Lawrence did the same for Rich.

On the other hand, why are my new friends – and lots of other people in Thorntree – not particularly nice about Auntie Sylvia?

“Glory’s right, Richard. Everything is fine,” she says, trying to regain her composure. “Now, how about a glass of milk and a—”

Clonk-clonk-clonk!

We all stop dead at the sound of the rarely used brass fox door knocker.

“Who on earth can that be?” Auntie Sylvia wonders aloud, astounded that anyone should be there, since visitors are so very rare at the cottage.

While she pauses for a second and tidies her hair behind her ears, I take the opportunity to peek out of the window.

“Oh!” I gasp, getting goose pimples.

For there, on the doorstep, stands the big surprise Mum wrote about in her letter…

The girl on the doorstep is wearing a green sweater, deer brown jodphurs and chunky lace-up boots.

She’s also wearing a slick of red lipstick, a high-rolled hairdo that must have taken a lot of time and effort to do, and far too much perfume. I could smell it practically before Auntie Sylvia opened the door. It reminds me a little of the scent of the sweet factory, wafting over our whole neighbourhood back home.

“Can I help you?” says Auntie Sylvia, clearly wondering who this rather flashy young woman is.

“Lil!” Rich yelps.

He ducks under Auntie Sylvia’s arm and rushes at her.

“Hey, Squirt!” Lil laughs, hugging and tickling him at the same time. “Miss me, did you?”

“It’s Lillian, our sister,” I tell a visibly flummoxed Auntie Sylvia.

“Oh, oh, I see. Do come in, then, Miss Gilbert!”

“Miss Gilbert? Oh, no – that’s too posh for me,” Lil laughs. “Plain Lil will do nicely, ta.”

“Well, do come in,
Lillian
,” says Auntie Sylvia, sounding a little uncomfortable with the sudden familiarity.

“What are you doing here?” I ask my sister, too stunned to know what to do or how to act. It’s just so bizarre to see her here in Auntie Sylvia’s little sitting room.

“Oh, shut up and give me a hug first!” Lil says in her usual straight-talking way, and holds an arm out for me.

I rush to her, suddenly thinking of home and us, giggling together in our bedroom about some nonsense or other.

“Oh, Lil…” I sigh, burying my face into the scratchy wool of her jumper.

I can’t help it. I sob and sob and sob, while she hugs me tight, kisses my head and tells me it’ll be all right.

“Wish I could’ve come and seen you all after what happened,” she murmurs, “but Mum wrote and said not to bother; that everyone was fine, and anyway, she was sending you and Rich here to Thorntree as soon as she could.”

I cry more, the memories of the plane yesterday and the blast back at home crushing and pushing to the front of my mind, even though I’ve been doing my best to keep them locked away for my brother’s sake, so I can be strong for him.

And then I feel Rich wriggle his hand into mine and know I have to pull myself together.

“I’m fine, Rich,” I tell him, breaking away from Lil’s comforting cuddle.

I’m expecting to see worry etched on his face, but instead he’s smiling.

“I know,” says Rich, patting my hand. “And Auntie Sylvia says to come through to the kitchen – she’s making tea and says we can have biscuits!”

That makes me laugh – and cry too, with sheer relief. I don’t have to shoulder the responsibility for looking after Rich all by myself. Auntie Sylvia is looking out for him, and now Lil is here too, even if it’s just for a quick visit. I didn’t realize how much I just wanted to be a thirteen-year-old girl, instead of a grown-up in charge of a small boy, gorgeous as he is…

“Come on then, Rich,” Lil says cheerfully, as she links her arm into mine. “Lead the way!”

We go through the passage and into the kitchen, where Auntie Sylvia is laying the table, using the best china that I’ve only seen out when Reverend Ashton has been here.

“Mm, smashing!” says Lil, bowling right up to the table and helping herself to a home-made piece of shortbread. She screeches out a chair and plonks herself down, quite at home.

Me and Rich sit down too, but wait till Auntie Sylvia passes us the plate before we take our shortbread.