‘Well, I never did!’ cried Grandma, ‘This is a surprise!’
‘We would have come sooner,’ said Mother. ‘But petrol is scarce.’
‘So many shortages,’ grumbled Pops as he slipped off his trilby hat. ‘And so much red tape.’
Daisy felt excited. ’How long will you stay?’
‘Until Thursday, treasure.’
‘I only hope I’ve enough food,’ worried Grandma as they all hurried in to the warmth of the fire.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Mother. ‘We’ve brought provisions with us.’
‘You can sleep in our beds,’ volunteered Bobby eagerly.
Grandma smiled. ‘The children will be comfortable enough down here.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ said Aunt Pat in a fluster.
‘I’ll help,’ said Mother.
Daisy followed her mother into the hall. ‘We want to come home,’ she whispered. ‘We miss you.’
‘I’m sorry Daisy, but you’ll have to wait until it’s safe.’
‘But - ‘
‘Daisy?’ called Grandma. ‘Where are you? Your father is asking about school.’
‘Run along,’ said Mother giving Daisy a tap on her bottom signalling the end of the matter.
CHAPTER 27
‘MR MUSGRAVE IS NEARLY BLIND, well, not quite, but almost,’ regaled Daisy. ‘Mrs Gardiner nods off quite a bit. She often forgets our names. I read stories to the children each day, but they aren’t very interested. They can’t read themselves so I’ve taught them small words like “but” and “and”. When I get to a “but” or “and” I tell them to shout out as if it was a game. Some of them I’ve taught to say their ABC and some of them their numbers, like two plus two, and four plus four. But no one knows their times tables. Not even the older ones.’
‘But surely there is some kind of school management?’ Pops protested, looking baffled after enjoying his cup of tea that took at least half an hour to arrive from the kitchen.
‘A child of ten shouldn’t be teaching but learning,’ he decided.
‘It’s different here,’ Bobby explained carefully. ‘The kids are all evacuees.’
‘They think the war is a holiday,’ chimed in Daisy. ‘They don’t want to learn, but take it all as a bit of a joke. Tell Pops about Mr Musgrave, Bobby.’
Bobby looked embarrassed. ‘Mr Musgrave can’t see very well so the class just mucks around.’
Pops looked shocked. ’What happened to Mr Fraser?’
‘He’s in the army now, like Mr Pine. Mr Keen, the new headmaster said all the younger teachers have been called up. The retired ones have taken their place.’
‘Some of the infants have dreadful accidents,’ exaggerated Daisy. ‘They cry for their mothers nearly all day. Others make disgusting smells and just giggle.’
Pops shook his head wearily. ‘We thought Wattcombe was the best chance of an education for you.’
‘It was,’ agreed Bobby politely. ‘It was nice when we were younger.’
‘I forgot my numbers,’ added Daisy with a rush of feeling. ‘I’ve nearly forgotten everything I learned at school.’
‘My goodness,’ said Pops. ‘What a poor show.’
‘Do you want another cup of tea?’ Daisy was pleased with her performance.
‘Not now.’ Pops frowned. ‘Perhaps I’d better bring in the luggage. You two can help me.’
‘You needn’t have worried Pops,’ hissed Bobby as they put on their outdoor clothes.
‘Well, it’s the truth.’
Daisy understood the importance of exaggeration when it was needed and it was needed more now than ever before. But she also knew her brother was a stickler for facts, just like Pops. So she endured a painful silence with gritted teeth comforted by the memory of Pops’s horrified expression when he learned of the pitfalls of Wattcombe’s wartime education.
As they joined Pops outside, she told herself that for the first time ever, she knew better than Bobby.
‘Happy Christmas one and all,’ said Mother the next day after enjoying Grandma’s roast chicken dinner. ‘The meal was delicious.’
‘Mouthwatering,’ agreed Pops.
‘Thank you, Grandma and Aunt Pat,’ said Bobby, forking the last potato on his plate.
‘Thank you,’ said Daisy. She wished now she had made more of an effort to make decorations. If she had known Mother and Pops were coming she would have brought some chalks and paper from school. Mrs Gardiner wouldn’t have noticed. These days, she spent more time dozing than teaching
The smell of cooking wafted pleasantly in the air as Daisy helped her mother and aunt. When all was clean and tidy they joined the others in the living room.
‘It’s impossible to find wrapping paper,’ complained Mother. ‘We had to use newspaper.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Bobby, tearing open his present.
To Daisy’s dismay, there were very few treats; a dog-eared girl’s annual and exercise book minus its first page. Bobby received a board game with its dice missing and an elderly railway encyclopaedia.
‘Thank you,’ said Bobby, looking forlorn.
‘We can play games tonight,’ suggested Aunt Pat cheerfully. ‘I’ll borrow the dice from Snakes and Ladders. Why, it’ll be just like old times.’
But Daisy thought how unlike old times this Christmas was. There were no new football boots for Bobby or plimsolls for her or Rowntree’s York Chocolate or Duncan’s Hazelnut.
‘I tried for fruit,’ Mother apologised. ‘But there was none left.’
‘All a bit depressing,’ said Pops from the fireside chairs.
‘How are the family?’ Aunt Pat asked.
Daisy was shocked when Mother replied. ‘Betty has taken leave from the factory.’
Aunt Pat looked surprised. ‘Why’s that?’
‘She’s joined the Women’s Voluntary Service.’
‘But who will be secretary?’
‘We’ve employed a young woman,’ said Pops with a shrug. ’She’ll manage the accounts now Neville Calder has been called up to the navy.’
Daisy could hardly believe her ears. Aunt Betty had left the factory and Mr Calder had joined the navy! She wanted to clap her hands.
‘However, the factory has been requisitioned,’ Pops said gloomily. ‘We’re making armaments for the war effort.’
‘But that’s good,’ said Grandma doubtfully. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Pops half-heartedly. ‘But we’ve had to ditch our new valves. Just when we’d found something special.’
‘You and your valves, Nicky!’ Aunt Pat dismissed.
Pops thrust back his wave of thick hair and sat forward. ‘That’s just it, Pat. Valves are the heart and soul of electronics. You could compare a basic radio valve to your good old King
