Daisy’s jumbled thoughts spun in and out of her mind. Why hadn’t Aunt Betty and Uncle Ed called? They always visited at Christmas. It was tradition. Just like on New Year’s Eve, when everyone gathered at Aunt Minnie and Uncle Leo’s in Soho for a party. More worryingly, Pops hadn’t given her a proper answer when she’d asked after them.
Daisy’s eyelids were so heavy she couldn’t keep them open. This time she dreamed of Sammy Berger’s father hiding in his house from a gang of men. Someone had nailed two strong lengths of wood across the front door. But if no one could get in, how would Mr Berger and Sammy get out?
I t was Friday and the day before New Year’s Eve. By this time, Daisy had passed on her infection to Bobby. Mother told her that Matt had gone along to Amelia’s house in the hope of seeing her.
Grandma and Aunt Pat spoiled her, propping up her cushions in Pops’s big fireside chair and brushing out her hair. Mother ferried rations of water and a small jar of chest rub up to Bobby who was confined to bed. All prospect of attending Aunt Minnie’s party the very next evening had vanished with the uncooperative flu germs.
‘Never mind,’ consoled Aunt Pat who mysteriously found a new tin of Saturday Assortment in her luggage. ‘We can enjoy ourselves and play games.’ She opened the tin and placed it in front of Daisy. ‘There are plenty of toffees left.’
Daisy felt her stomach protest. She shook her head vigorously. ‘No, thank you, Aunt Pat.’
‘Still feel a bit dicky?’
‘Quite dicky, Aunt Pat.’
‘Sensible not to then.’ The lid went back on and Grandma nodded.
‘Sweets on a poorly stomach can be fatal,’ she agreed, settling back in her chair.
‘Not that sort of fatal, Mother,’ corrected Aunt Pat mildly as, from her pocket, she drew the fortune cards in their mother-of-pearl case.
‘I only want good news,’ instructed Grandma, eyeing Aunt Pat warningly.
Daisy smiled at the thought of the fortune cards. Aunt Pat always found something interesting to say, though her predictions weren’t always correct. The air was fragrant with an occasional puff of woodsmoke that drifted off the crimson logs in the grate. Aunt Pat’s soft voice was soothing as she announced a return to good health for Daisy. ‘And even better,’ continued Aunt Pat excitedly, ‘I see a new friend, yet strangely, an old one.’ Her smile drifted as she looked up into Daisy’s wide expectant eyes. ‘A friendship to last a lifetime.’
Daisy felt excited. ‘What’s their name?’ she asked curiously.
Aunt Pat shrugged. ‘The cards are telling me you know it already.’
‘Is it Sally? Because I’ve known her ages. She’s not new.’
Suddenly there was movement on the stairs.
‘Put the cards away, Pat,’ Grandma commanded. ‘Not everyone appreciates your gift.’
The cards were instantly scooped up and slipped into their mother-of-pearl case as Mother appeared. Daisy looked at Aunt Pat, sharing a secret smile.
CHAPTER 14
THE LETTER ARRIVED on the first Saturday of 1939, shortly after Grandma and Aunt Pat had returned to Wattcombe. Daisy sat with her two brothers as Pops read from the official looking document the postman had just delivered.
‘ “This is to confirm the delivery of your air raid shelter. It will measure six feet six inches by four feet six inches. Your shelter must be sunk into the ground and can be extended for larger families if requested. Priority has been given to householders in London’s twenty-eight metropolitan boroughs and other potential target cities around the country.” ‘
‘Our shelter?’ questioned Mother. ‘But why should we want one? They must have written to the wrong address.’
Pops read it over again. ‘No error, not at all. The address is correct.’
‘The docks have been given priority,’ gushed Matt. ‘We are the enemy’s first target.’
‘Surely not,’ cried Mother in alarm. ‘This can’t be true.’
Daisy watched her brother shrug gently. ‘I’m sorry, Mother, but I did warn you.’
‘Don’t let’s panic,’ advised Pops. ‘This may be just a precautionary measure.’
‘What’s it made of, this shelter?’ asked Bobby, now recovered from his flu.
‘Says here they are steel,’ replied Pops with a frown.
‘Can we sleep in it?’ Daisy enquired. ‘Is it like a tent?’
‘Daisy, you are not sleeping in anything but your own bed,’ scolded Mother. ‘Now Nicky, you must do something about this contraption. Get them to cancel it. Or give it to someone else.’
‘Mother,’ said Matt seriously, ‘don’t you read the newspapers? Our Territorial Army’s anti-aircraft and coastal units have been mobilised for war. There are appeals everywhere for emergency workers, plans for evacuation from the city and even patients from hospitals. Food rationing will come at any moment. We are on the brink.’
Daisy sat up. ‘Does rationing mean we won’t get anything to eat?’
‘Of course it doesn’t,’ said Mother impatiently. ‘If rationing were to happen - and only if - I’m sure the government would provide for us all equally.’ She looked at Pops and waved her fingers. ‘Enough of that letter, Nicky. Put it away and let’s try to enjoy the rest of our weekend.’
Daisy watched her father fold the letter into his pocket. Breakfast was subdued and she wondered why Pops did not even pick up his newspaper.
‘Can I go to football?’ Bobby asked.
‘I really think you shouldn’t,’ said Mother doubtfully. ‘It’s cold and you’re only just well.’
‘I’m bored,’ Bobby insisted. ‘I want to try out my new boots.’
‘A boy needs his exercise, Flo,’ Pops agreed.
After Bobby had gone out, Aunt Betty arrived. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t call at Christmas,’ she apologised. ‘Are you better now, Daisy?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Daisy was relieved to see her aunt at last. ‘Where’s Uncle Ed?’
Aunt Betty frowned.
‘Is he coming to see us?‘
‘Daisy!’ interrupted Mother sharply. ‘Enough now!’
‘Your uncle is at work,’ replied Aunt Betty very quietly with a downcast expression.
‘I’ll be off to join him,’ said Pops formally. ‘A happy New Year, Betty.’
‘Thank you, Nicky. You too.’
‘Matt, are you coming?’ Pops called.
Daisy watched her older brother thunder down the staircase, peck their aunt
