‘Walk!’ snapped Mr Calder, prodding her back with the muzzle of the gun.
Daisy walked, but it didn’t feel like walking. She felt as if she was floating. It was only a few feet to the kitchen door. But what would she do then? And what if Bobby came rushing out? Would Mr Calder pull the trigger and kill them both?
Daisy stumbled, expecting another instruction. She mustn’t faint away. Reaching out for the wall to steady herself, she thought of Mother and Aunt Betty and Bobby and all the things they had been through together. There must be something she could do …
‘Daisy! Daisy!’
Someone had called her name. Not Aunt Betty or Mother. But someone so familiar that Daisy could hardly believe her ears. It was Pops’s voice.
Daisy opened her mouth and screamed. She screamed and screamed again, waving her hands, trying to warn Pops, to somehow avert the flight of that bullet. She didn’t care for herself. But Mr Calder was mad …
‘Go away, Pops,’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Stay away!’ Her heart turned over in waves of dread. Was Mr Calder about to shoot her or would he shoot Pops? How long before the bullet entered her body? Or worse, much worse, followed a path towards Pops?
Suddenly a blackness swallowed her.
She had been there before and recognized the landscape. It was fear. She understood now, that fear never left you. The war, the death and destruction, the grey, ruined landscape of the blitz; these were all part of her now. But there was another part too, allowing in the bright and precious light that Daisy recognised as love.
‘Daisy, it’s me,’ said Pops, gathering her in his arms. ‘I’ve got you.’
‘Did he shoot us?’ she mumbled, clinging to the strong, familiar shoulders. She couldn’t feel any pain. Did a bullet go right through you or lodge somewhere inside before it killed you? Pops’s face became clearer now; arctic blue eyes and tussle of wavy hair. He was smiling and said reassuringly, ‘You’re safe, quite safe.’
Mr Calder hadn’t pulled the trigger? She was still alive and so was Pops! But where was Mr Calder?
Suddenly there was a flash of lightening and a roar of thunder. She felt Pops shudder and drag her against the wall, until the roar of the explosion subsided. Then all at once Mother and Aunt Betty and Bobby were there, embracing her and Pops.
‘There must have been another bomb,’ said Mother in a shaken voice, ‘under the debris of the demolished house.’ The air was thick with the smell of cordite and burning and clouds of dust and vaporous fumes revolved around them.
‘Thank God, you’re both safe,’ Aunt Betty said with tears in her eyes.
‘What happened?’ asked Bobby in confusion.
’It was Mr C … Calder,’ Daisy stammered. ‘He wanted me to fetch Aunt Betty. He had a gun and said he would shoot us all if I didn’t do what he said. But then Pops came and saved me. And Mr Calder must have run into the garden and - ’ Daisy burst into tears.
Mother held her close. ‘There’s nothing we can do for him now.’
‘I didn’t want that,’ Daisy protested. ‘I didn’t want him to be killed.‘
‘You weren’t to blame,’ Pops said gently. ‘No one was.’
‘It’s me who is to blame,’ Aunt Betty assured her. ‘I made a terrible mistake, Daisy. Sometimes adults can be reckless. I never guessed at the hurt and sadness such an ill-advised friendship might bring. Your mother and father have been very understanding. Nicky has taken compassionate leave so that we can talk things over before I speak to Uncle Ed.’
Daisy gasped a breath. Her parents knew?
‘Uncle Ed and I have to work things out,’ Aunt Betty whispered. ‘I’ve never stopped loving him and I hope he’ll forgive me.’
Daisy slid her arms around her aunt. ‘I’m sure he will,’ she murmured, choking back her tears. ‘He loves you too.’
Daisy saw the anguish in her aunt’s face and in her parents’ eyes. She guessed there would be more heartache ahead. The war had threatened everyone’s happiness. Yet the conflict had brought this family together. What was more, they loved each other for better or worse, in peace or in wartime, just like a family should.
EPILOGUE
4 months later
IT WAS A MILD, sun-swept morning in May, when Daisy sat with Bobby in the rear of the car as Pops drove them through the East End. His long-awaited leave had finally arrived. Uncle Ed had accompanied him and was, at this very moment, with Aunt Betty.
Today’s visit to the island had come at last. Daisy found it almost impossible to believe that day had finally arrived. After the terrible event of Mr Calder’s accident, the war had become very personal. His death had signalled the end of her’s and Bobby’s carefree days playing in Aunt Betty’s garden. The cart and rope had been abandoned, as if somehow they were attached to that fateful day. The blitz had continued until last week when Germany had turned its attention on Russia. Daisy knew that like every other family in Britain, they were trying to recover and repair their lives.
Before they had left Aunt Betty’s, Mother warned them to expect the worst. Their home might be broken and battered, or like many other buildings, a mountain of smouldering bricks and masonry. Yet returning home was their hopeful dream, a lifeline from their past that they all needed to keep alive.
Daisy glanced at Bobby. Like her, he wore a look of anxious expectation as he stared out from the window. To celebrate the occasion they were dressed in their best clothes; a new skirt for her that Mother had made on Aunt Betty’s sewing machine, a pressed white shirt and tie for Bobby. This visit was special. A visit to be remembered. That is, if they were lucky. If they still had a home to return to.
Pops drove slowly through the blitzed streets, flanked by
