Sally couldn’t answer that.
13
Sally, Maggie, and a couple of other women from Abbeydale took the train up to Waterloo and the underground from there over to Liverpool Street Station. Reverend Collins had gone on an earlier train, as he’d had to meet various representatives of both the Jewish congregations and other churches.
Sally listened to the conversations around her. Most were talking about how bad the situation in Germany must be for women to give up their children, not only to strangers but to send them across the sea.
Aggie Dalton, a farmer’s wife, sniffed perpetually. Sally was tempted to give her a hanky. The woman moaned about everything from the price of the train ticket to the cost of sheltering the children. “I don’t think I could do what those women have done, do you?”
Sally glanced up realizing the woman had addressed her. But before she got the chance to respond, Maggie answered.
“Don’t know love. Never know what you will do until the time comes, do ya?”
The woman shrugged her shoulders. “My Ben says they will be good on the farm. Hard workers Germans, no matter what else you say about them. I hope Reverend Collins lets us have the pick of the crop, so to speak.”
Appalled at what she was hearing, Sally turned to stare out the window. She didn’t want to get into an argument with anyone from the village.
“You tell your Ben those children are looking for kindness and shelter from an evil man and his disgusting regime. They aren’t workhorses or unpaid labor for his farm.”
“Ben knows that, Maggie Ardle. Don’t you go laying down the law to me. Never had kids of your own did ya? So, what would you know about raising them?”
Sally bit her lip at the woman’s unkindness. Thankfully, the train trundled to a stop and they all headed for the exit. Sally took Maggie’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She’d seen the tears in the woman’s eyes. She knew how much the older woman had wanted children, but God had different plans for her.
“Any child will be lucky to go to the rectory to live with you and Reverend Collins,” she whispered. Maggie squeezed her hand in return. They made their way up the stairs to the main railway station concourse.
Nothing could have prepared Sally for the sight that met her. There had to be about two hundred children of all ages, standing in a group. Some were babes in arms while others were almost grown-ups. Despite their attempts to be brave, most showed some signs of fear or bewilderment at their new surroundings. They looked like they hadn’t slept in days. She spotted Reverend Collins near the train, away from the crowd and taking Maggie’s arm, led the way over to him.
“Morning Maggie, Sally. Things are a bit chaotic. My German is a bit rusty. Most of the children don’t speak English.”
Sally swallowed back the lump in her throat. The children hung back, in a group, as if there was safety in numbers. She spotted a number crying but almost without sound.
She heard Aggie Dalton, the farmer’s wife before she saw her. Her strident tones rang clear despite the general noise of the station.
“I want three boys, about fourteen to sixteen-years-old. That one, that one and him over there should do nicely.”
Reverend Collins blinked a couple of times, muttered something and moved toward the woman. The children were shrinking back not understanding what she was saying.
“I wish she wasn’t given any children but that’s unlikely, isn’t it? I thought there would be more volunteers.”
“Not everyone has your kind heart, Sally, and some can’t afford to feed another little one. Now let’s get to it, shall we? Do you have a preference for a boy or a girl?”
Sally shook her head. She’d written to Derek telling him of her plans to come to Liverpool Street and maybe offer a child a home for the duration. She’d asked him if he had a preference, but he’d never answered. She thought he’d be happy with either a boy or a girl.
She let her gaze roam over the crowd before she spotted a little boy, tear stains marking a track on his face. Something about him called to her.
She stepped forward and bent down to his level.
“Hello.”
The boy stared at her, his eyes widening.
“Do you speak any English?”
He nodded but didn’t respond. He looked up at the young man by his side.
“My brother Tomas is shy. Papa taught us a little English. My name is Heinz. Are you taking us?”
“Us?” Sally queried. She’d assumed the man was one of the group leaders but looking closer he was only about sixteen-years-old.
“Me and my brother. We stick together.”
The smaller boy said something in German. His brother answered but it wasn’t the right reply, as the little boy stamped his foot. The older one tried to reason with him, but it was no use. The small boy crossed his arms, a mutinous look on his face. His brother’s tone told Sally things weren’t going to improve. She intervened.
“What is wrong, Heinz? Is he scared?”
The contempt in the boy’s face took her by surprise.
“No, he is happy to be in a new country with strangers.”
“Less of that, young man,” Sally retorted, without thinking. She could put up with a lot of things, but sarcasm pushed her over the edge. Her response did nothing to ease the situation, with the younger boy now crying. Feeling helpless, she looked around for Reverend Collins and motioned him over.
“Sally, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Tomas, the little boy, wants something but Heinz can’t tell me what it is. I wondered if you could translate.”
Reverend Collins exchanged a couple of words with Heinz getting a similar reaction. But Tomas wasn’t staying silent.
