The Evacuee Christmas. Katie King

was going to evacuate herself.

      When Peggy nodded, Susanne cried perhaps a trifle too gaily, ‘Music to my ears! I’m having to stay behind to work at the bakery, as you know Ma’s been taken poorly and Reece is leaving today with your Bill. But if you’re choosing to be evacuated and are planning on going on Monday as most people round here seem to be, then St Mark’s needs another responsible adult to help escort the children to wherever they are being sent to, and I couldn’t help but think of you! So far there’s Miss Crabbe and old Mr Hegarty to look after them – well, Mr Jones is going too, but he won’t want to be bothered with the nitty-gritty, as it were, and in any case, he’s coming back just about the next day. One-Eye Braxton will be there and the kiddies run rings round him – and so I thought you would be the perfect person to go and keep an eye on both pupils and teachers.’

      There was definitely a logic to this despite the chirpy tone of Susanne’s words, Peggy could see, as she was familiar with the children and they with her, and she knew the quite often crotchety Miss Crabbe (‘Crabbe by name, and Crabby by nature’ was Peggy and Susanne’s private joke about her) and the ancient Mr Hegarty (who was increasingly doddery these days after teaching for over forty years) would make for dour overseers for the evacuation journey for the children, and with headmaster Mr Jones planning on not sticking around…

      And if Peggy went with the children of St Mark’s, then it would probably mean that she would end up being billeted near where Jessie and Connie would be, and this would be reassuring for Barbara and Ted; and for herself too, it had to be said.

      They’d reached the school gates, and Susanne nodded and then smiled encouragement at Peggy, obviously willing her to say yes.

      ‘Let me think about it overnight, and I’ll let you know first thing in the morning as I’m not quite certain about the other options for the evacuation of expectant mothers,’ Peggy said, trying to look resigned and as if she shouldn’t be taken for granted, but failing to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up into the tiniest of smiles.

      Then Peggy caught Susanne looking pointedly at her expanded girth so she added, ‘I think it’s probably fine for me to come with your lot, but I just want to consider it for a while as I don’t want to promise you anything I can’t actually do.’

      Susanne was already nipping across the playground towards the steps up to the girls’ entrance as she called over her shoulder, ‘Honestly, Peggy, it’s just to make sure they don’t get up to too much mischief on the train – and that’s just the teachers! And Mrs Ayres will be there too, and Mr Braxton, and so you won’t be too heavily outnumbered by the kiddies.’

      This latest comment wasn’t necessarily as hugely reassuring to Peggy as Susanne probably meant it to be, because although as sweet-natured a widow as Mrs Ayres undoubtedly was, she was a gentle soul, and even the youngest children could boss her around with absolutely no trouble, while Mr Braxton, who had had such a severe facial injury in the Great War that meant he’d lost an eye and part of a cheekbone, and who now wore a not very convincing prosthetic contraption that attached to his spectacles, also had problems in keeping the children in line, in large part as they didn’t really like looking directly at him.

      Peggy sighed. She could already imagine how this was very probably going to work out for her.

      Several minutes later, as Peggy made her way at long last over to Barbara’s, Jessie and Connie were walking along the street to school in the opposite direction, and they were so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice their auntie until they were almost level with her.

      Peggy thought they both looked wan and anxious – the news of leaving their mother and father to head for pastures new with their classmates had obviously hit them hard.

      ‘Hello, you two. You’d better look sharp or else you’re going to be late,’ she said. ‘But first, I’ll tell you a secret. If it helps cheer you up, I think I might be coming on the train with you and your fellow school pupils on Monday. Won’t that be fun?’

      They stared at each other with intent, serious expressions, and then they all laughed as Peggy had to add, ‘Well, maybe “fun” is the wrong word, but I daresay you know what I mean. If I can get a billet near to you, then you’ll know there’s always me to come to if either of you feel a bit miserable. And I shall be able to come to you if I’m feeling a bit sad about being away from home too. Is that a deal?’

      Judging by their nods, it looked as if a pact had been made.

Chapter Six

      Barbara was standing on the doorstep looking out for Peggy while polishing the brass door knocker, door handle and house number.

      ‘I’ve already told Mrs Truelove that I can’t go in today as I’ve got to get things organised, and she wasn’t thrilled but…’ Barbara’s voice drifted away as she’d already turned on her heel to stomp off towards the kitchen, her footsteps ringing out on the brown linoleum that floored the narrow hallway at number five Jubilee Street.

      Peggy followed wearily in her younger sister’s wake (there was only the one year between them), very much looking forward to sitting down and enjoying a restorative cup of tea. It wasn’t yet half past eight but already Peggy was quite done in.

      Half an hour later she felt much better, as Barbara had also made her eat some hot buttered toast while Barbara jotted down a long to-do list, and an equally lengthy shopping list.

      ‘Ted and I decided before we got out of bed this morning that we’re going to use our rainy-day money to send them away in new clothes. Let’s see how much is in the biscuit tin,’ said Barbara.

      Peggy was surprised at this. Most families scrimped and saved to put a little by for emergencies, but now Barbara seemed happy to dip into this fund when actually, as far as Peggy could see, the children already had perfectly acceptable clothes that were always neatly pressed and mended, and that were nowhere near as threadbare as some that many other local children had no other option than to wear.

      While Barbara and Peggy had been born and bred within the sound of church bells that they still lived within hearing distance of, their father had been a shopkeeper, and so they had grown up in relative comfort when compared to that of many of their contemporaries, Bermondsey being known throughout London as being a very poor borough. They had been allowed to stay at school past the age of fourteen, when a lot of their friends had been made to leave in order that they could go out to work to bring another wage in to add to the family’s housekeeping.

      Peggy and Barbara’s mother had been very insistent that they had elocution lessons, and the result of this was that although without question they talked with a London accent, it wasn’t the broad cockney spoken by Ted and Bill, who joked that their wives were ‘very BBC’.

      While this wasn’t strictly true as the received pronunciation of the broadcaster’s announcers was always distinctly more plummy (in fact, laughably so at times), nevertheless the sisters knew that their voices did sound posh when compared to most people in Bermondsey. Jessie and Connie had also been encouraged to speak properly by Barbara, another thing that hadn’t endeared Jessie to Larry, who had the slightest of stammers.

      Barbara was always very set on keeping up family standards, and this required her taking good care of Jessie and Connie’s clothes, making sure they were always mended, clean and pressed, while Ted buffed and polished their leather T-bar sandals every evening. It gave both parents pleasure to see their children bathed and clean, and neatly turned out.

      This sartorial attention was a whole lot more than many other local parents managed where either their children or themselves were concerned, although Peggy had some sympathy for why this might be as she could see it was very difficult for some families, who might have, perhaps, more than ten children to look after but with only a very scant income coming into the home each week.

      Nevertheless, she suspected that when her and Bill’s baby arrived, she would find herself equally as keen to keep up the standards already heralded by Barbara.