‘I didn’t know what to do,’ protested Bobby. ‘School was closing and Sammy had nowhere to go. So we brought him home.‘
‘Why is Sammy in such trouble?’ said Mother hesitantly. ‘Burning down someone’s house is a crime.’
‘Sammy’s frightened of the Blackshirts,’ Bobby insisted. ‘Because Mr Berger is German.’
Once again the room fell silent.
‘How long has Mr Berger lived in England?’ asked Pops after a while.
‘Don’t know,’ Bobby answered with a shrug. ‘But Sammy was born here.’
‘You say he was attacked?’ Uncle Leo enquired doubtfully.
‘His nose was bleeding,’ Daisy volunteered before her brother could reply. ‘And he’s got a black eye that’s gone purple and blue.’
‘That’s quite enough, Daisy, ’ interrupted Mother sharply. ‘Stay here while Bobby and I speak to Sammy.’
Aunt Minnie rose and extended her hand. ‘Come along, Daisy. I’ve smoked far too many cigarettes today. A breath of fresh air will do us good.’
For once, Daisy went unwillingly with her favourite aunt. She wanted to know what Mother would say to Sammy. After all, she had claimed that Sammy was her best friend too.
But as usual, boys could do everything girls couldn’t.
‘Y our father has driven Sammy to the doctor,’ said Mother later after everyone had left.
‘Is Sammy ill?’ Daisy asked.
‘We shall have to wait and see,’ replied Mother as she washed Miss Ayling’s cups and saucers, placing them on the draining board for Daisy to dry. ‘Miss Bailey should have helped him.’
‘She didn’t know he was in trouble,’ Daisy defended. ‘He was outside the school gates.’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Mother. ‘I can’t imagine how frightened the poor child must have been.’ She sat down on a chair and sighed. ‘From the little Sammy told me, his parents came to England from Germany to escape persecution. His mother died from tuberculosis when he was just a baby.’
‘Why did the Blackshirts hurt him?’
‘Some Blackshirts hold very radical views and have been the cause of untold misery here in London.’
‘Why don’t the police stop them?’
Mother considered this for some moments. ’The British believe in democracy, Daisy - freedom of speech for everyone. Only when caught in the act of violence can these people be stopped.’ Mother slipped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, but you are learning that the world can be very unfair sometimes.’
That night Daisy lay under the warm covers, waiting for Pops and Bobby and Sammy to return. How terrible it must be for Sammy and his father to live in fear and not be able to be proud of who they were or what they believed in.
T he bedside clock said ten minutes past ten when Daisy woke next morning. Pulling on her dressing gown she hurried downstairs. The house was strangely quiet. Usually Mother would be working in the kitchen and Bobby getting ready for school, but of course, there wasn’t any!
Instead she found Pops sitting at the big dining room table surrounded by his ledgers. He wore no tie and the two top buttons of his shirt were undone. Not like Pops at all who dressed smartly for the factory. His curly blond hair had fallen over his eyes which looked rather red and tired. She could smell cigarette smoke on his clothes, and by the evidence in the spilling ash tray, he had been working for many hours.
‘Good morning, treasure.’
Daisy sat beside him. ‘Where’s Mother and Bobby?’
‘Mother is shopping and Bobby’s at football.’
‘What’s happened to Sammy?’
Her father shuffled aside his papers and leaned his elbows on the table. ’Sammy’s cuts and bruises can be treated,’ he explained. ‘But his breathing is quite another matter. The doctor thinks it could be tuberculosis. Do you know what that is?’
Daisy nodded. ‘Mother said it’s when you have bad lungs.’
‘After seeing the doctor I took him to the hospital who will send him to a sanitarium.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a place where very sick people go to recover.’
Daisy felt sad. ‘I wish I’d been nicer to Sammy.’
‘You and Bobby brought him home to us and we were able to help him. This was possibly the kindest thing you have ever done for anyone. Please God, it won’t be too late to save him.’
And there it was, Daisy thought - the hammer blow. The real truth hidden in careful words so as not to be too shocking. Like Miss Bailey’s “I fear this will be a Christmas to remember,” and Pops’s “Let’s try to make the very, very most of this year.”
Her father nodded understandingly. ‘I know it’s hard for you, Daisy. Your friend has been taken away. School has closed. And the world is in turmoil. Changes in life are unsettling. But we are a family and will see this through together, war or no war.’
‘Will you get a gun like Sally’s dad?’
‘I rather think not. ’
‘Did you shoot someone in the first war?’ Daisy saw the little muscles in his jaw begin to move.
‘Taking away even one life has far-reaching consequences,’ he explained. ‘I was fortunate. My injury was nothing in comparison to others.’ He straightened his shoulders and smiled. ‘We must hope and pray for peace. That Mr Chamberlain will somehow pull us through.’
‘Are we still having a little house in the garden?’ she asked.
Pops looked into her eyes and nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘Can we play in it?’
Pops smiled. ‘Why not? Now, how about something to eat? Happy eggs and soldiers perhaps? Like our breakfasts in Wattcombe where we ate eggs fresh from the barn.’
Daisy smiled at the memory. Just for one second everything returned to normal. Nothing had changed and the war was just a bad dream.
CHAPTER 19
September 2nd 1939
“SHORTLY BEFORE 6AM YESTERDAY, Friday September 1st, German forces crossed the Polish frontier in the wake of heavy aerial bombardment. The Wehrmacht force of 1.25 million swept into Poland including six armoured divisions and eight motorised divisions with armoured units,” said the cut-glass voice from the wireless set in the living
