Daisy did as she was told and didn’t mind the smell of oil at all, but when Mr Cook helped her out, she almost overbalanced.
‘Just jelly legs,’ he assured her as he pushed a helmet on her head. ‘This titfer is too big for you but better than nothing. Hang on to me, gel.’
Daisy could barely see a thing, but they managed to pick their way forward. All the while an ominous drone seemed to be drawing closer.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get to safety in no time,’ Mr Cook assured her.
But no time seemed a very long time to Daisy. It was cold, foggy, noisy and very dark. She couldn’t really see where she was going and frequently tripped. At other times she was disoriented since an occasional glance to her right or left told her that she recognised no quaint shops like Mr Carson’s butchers or Peggy Altwhistle’s tea rooms. Neither was there a lane leading to the primary school and certainly no village hall. Most of the buildings were fatally damaged. Her heart dropped.
Daisy struggled on, but all the while the deep pulse of the planes was growing closer and the searchlights criss-crossed the sky above.
‘Nearly there,’ Mr Cook said, just as an ear-splitting bang made the ground shiver.
She tried to wipe away the sweat that was running from her forehead into her eyes but her hands were trembling too much. ‘Mr Cook,‘ she pleaded, ‘you’re going too fast.’
‘Sorry gel, I keep forgetting you’re only just out of ‘orspital. Let’s try it this way.’ With all the ease of a much younger man, he hoisted her over his shoulder.
When the explosion came, her ears seemed to burst with pain. Mr Cook appeared to be flying gracefully off his feet with her on his back just like Peter Pan who had flown over the silver ribbon of water, winding all the way up to Neverland.
F lowers … scented flowers … Gardenia!
‘Is that you, Aunt Minnie?’
‘Daisy!’ Aunt Minnie gasped and added in a shrill burst of excitement, ‘Flo! Come at once!’
There was a great deal of hustle and bustle around the comfortable chair Daisy found herself sitting in. The last she recalled was the strange sensation of riding on Mr Cook’s back as they flew over the river.
But now here was Aunt Minnie who was joined by Will and Mother and Bobby and then came Aunt Betty and finally Uncle Leo.
‘Daisy, oh Daisy!’ Mother cried. ‘I’ve been so worried.’
‘What happened?’
Mother squeezed her hand. ’Mr Cook carried you here to Aunt Betty’s house after the fall you both took.’
‘I remember now. The van had a puncture.’
‘Mr Cook’s gone to mend it.’
Daisy studied the faces around her. ’Did you know Tommy died?’
‘Who is Tommy?’ asked Mother.
‘He was Peter Brady’s little brother.’ She sniffed. ‘He had his operation but died. Then Peter tried to push me off the hospital roof and Sammy saved me.’
‘Who’s Sammy?’ Bobby wanted to know.
Daisy giggled. ‘Sammy Berger of course. He works at the hospital now.’
Everyone looked puzzled. Mother touched her hot cheek. ‘You’re a little confused. You must be running a temperature.’
Aunt Minnie, Aunt Betty and Mother all examined her intently.
’What’s that on your head?’ Will asked. ‘It’s all red and crusty.’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Will,’ ordered Aunt Minnie and caught hold of his collar.
Mother gently lifted Daisy’s hair. ’What a horrid wound! No wonder you’re not yourself.’
‘I wish,’ said Will admiringly, ‘that I had a scar too.’
‘Shut up, Will,’ Bobby muttered and Will made a face.
At which point everyone looked up at the ceiling. The light pendant shook on its brown cord and a tremor went through the floorboards.
‘Jerry’s on his way!’ warned Uncle Leo.
Mother took Daisy’s arm and led her out to the shelter. Behind them, Daisy heard Uncle Leo shouting frantic instructions. The siren grew louder and everyone rushed to perform their tasks as the Luftwaffe approached.
CHAPTER 59
IT WAS dark and damp inside the Anderson shelter, lit only by the weak, flickering flame of a candle. Daisy lay on the top bunk where Uncle Leo had lifted her. Below, Bobby and Will shared a bunk, while the adults huddled together on chairs. Wave upon wave of enemy planes thundered in the sky above and bursts of gunfire from the ack-ack stations were deafening. Every so often there was a lull.
‘I wonder what we’ll find when we go home,’ said Uncle Leo in one such pause. ‘When we drove away our street was being sealed off. We were told the Air Ministry had been targeted.’
‘Then you must stay here, Leo,’ insisted Aunt Betty.
‘Thanks Betty, perhaps we will. Although I hope my cameras are safe.’ Uncle Leo lit a cigarette. ‘I might need them when I’m given my orders.’
‘Do you really think they’ll call you up?’ said Mother.
Daisy listened carefully. Was Uncle Leo going away too, just like Pops and Uncle Ed?
‘I rather think they’ll need pictorial coverage for the news,’ he answered. ‘Though heaven knows, it will be tough to find anything positive.’
Uncle Leo’s voice was drowned by a rumble that soon became a roar. Dirt and dust fell in showers from the ceiling. Despite this, Daisy’s eyelids grew heavy. The boys had fallen asleep and it was only her whirling thoughts that kept her awake.
So much had happened. Only yesterday she’d discovered poor Tommy had died. Peter Brady had tried to kill her but Sammy Berger had saved her. She’d been driven across the city by Mr Cook. It was impossible not to witness the dreadful outcome of war. Homeless, frightened and injured, the people stumbled through chaos.
Bodies lay unmoving on stretchers …
Uncle Leo was right, the world was in turmoil.
Finally her eyes closed and Daisy fell asleep.
Dazzling daylight streamed through the open door of the shelter.
‘Have the planes gone?’ she asked Uncle Leo as he helped her down from the bunk.
‘All gone,’ he
