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wore her WVS overcoat and badge, was tearful too. That must mean she still loved Uncle Ed.

A  few days after Pops and Uncle Ed had left, there was bad news.

“This morning the Battle of Britain intensifies as Adolf Hitler threatens to raze British cities in reprisal for the RAF attacks on Berlin,’ warned the announcer on the wireless. ‘The government warns us to be vigilant and prepared for aerial onslaught.’’

‘What happened to Berlin?’ Daisy asked as they sat at breakfast.

Mother was very pale, Daisy thought. Since Pops had gone, she had seemed quiet and preoccupied. ‘Many ordinary people like us were killed.’

Bobby put down his spoon. ‘Is Matt flying?’

Mother shook her head wearily. ‘I don’t know, Bobby.’

‘Can’t we telephone?’

‘I tried the call box. That number is now unavailable.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘It means, Daisy,’ Mother said, lifting her eyes, ‘that the army and airbases are not available to the general public. Pops warned me to expect the shut down as part and parcel of our defence system.’

‘So we can’t reach Matt or Pops?’ said Bobby angrily and pushed himself up from the table. ‘It’s not fair. They’re our family. It should be different for us.’

‘Bobby, remember what Pops said. His project is top secret. And it must be kept that way.’

Bobby turned on his heel and ran out to the garden.

‘We must make allowances,’ Mother explained, ‘for your brother. Becoming the man of the house is a great responsibility. Go and be with him, Daisy. Now, more than ever he needs you.’

A little reluctantly, Daisy followed her brother outside. She didn’t know what mood she would find him in. These days, he was very unpredictable.

‘Hello,’ she said and sat beside him on the broken end of the wall.

He looked up at the sky and said nothing.

‘Have you seen any Spits yet?’

Bobby turned on her. ‘Do you always have to follow me around like a lost puppy?’

Daisy was about to insist she had only come out here at Mother’s request, when she saw he had been weeping. But boys didn’t cry, she thought, at a loss for something to say. So she just dangled her feet, studied her sandals and tapped the wall lightly with her heels.

Which seemed to suit Bobby perfectly.

T  he next day, Mother patted the cushion beside her and said quietly, ’Sit down, I want to talk to you both.’

Daisy sat silently with Bobby. What was about to happen?

‘I don’t want to leave London,’ said Mother. ‘I really don’t. This is our home and we cherish it. But, the time is drawing close when we must face facts. If there are air raids on the docks, I can’t see an alternative, but to evacuate.’

‘The attack might not come,’ protested Bobby. ‘Our Spits might stop them.’

‘I think that’s rather hopeful, Bobby.’

‘Matt said we’ve got the best airforce in the world,’ said Bobby proudly.

Mother smiled. ‘We have indeed got a magnificent airforce. A navy and army too. But we have been warned. And it would only be a fool who ignored those warnings.’

‘Does Pops know we might leave?’ asked Daisy tearfully.

‘Before he left I made him a promise that we would go to Wattcombe when the time came.’ Mother twisted her handkerchief between her fingers. ‘First, I must give Pops’s instructions to the factory committee. Fortunately the government assessors will conduct business in our absence.’

‘But what about Aunt Betty and Aunt Minnie? They live in London too.’ Daisy couldn’t imagine Uncle Leo abandoning his studio and all his expensive equipment. Or Aunt Betty leaving her job with the WVS.

‘I don’t know,’ said Mother on a sigh. ‘No doubt we shall hear from them soon.’

Daisy saw the dismay in Mother’s eyes and desperation in Bobby’s.

She guessed his thoughts. If they were to be evacuated, would they ever see their friends again?

CHAPTER 40

IT WAS A BALMY, cloudless Saturday morning early in September, when Daisy woke to the silence of an empty house. Downstairs, she found a note from Mother saying she’d gone shopping and would Daisy please tidy round in her absence. This had become their weekly ritual. Flying a duster over the furniture, seemed to Daisy, the better part of their bargain. The chore was a lot less boring than standing for hours in endless queues, hoping for groceries that would prove to be unavailable. Besides, Mother insisted on walking everywhere. A car ride was out of the question. The Austin stood gathering cobwebs in the road, now too expensive to run.

Daisy helped herself to several slices of bread and a generous portion of jam. It was very unusual to find herself alone at breakfast on Saturday morning. Bobby would bolt his food eager to tune in to the wireless set and catch any mention of aerial activity over the city.

Daisy missed his company, even though he seemed not to care for hers. She longed to see Sally again and rekindle their friendship. Sadly, Mother had failed to find any information on the Watsons and Daisy supposed that Sally must still be evacuated.

By the time Mother returned, Daisy had finished her chores. She helped unpack the two string baskets though the variety of food was limited.

‘I found these,’ Mother said delightedly as she placed three unbelievably small eggs on a plate in the kitchen. ‘And this!’ Next came a tin of sardines, a luxury. ‘As for meat, I was late for the butcher and only managed corned beef.’

Daisy helped to stow away the contents of the baskets in the larder. She couldn’t imagine how Mother had the patience to wait for ages outside the shops at which they were registered. Last week, Mother had stood in the butcher’s queue for at least an hour and ended up with very little reward.

Quite different to life in Wattcombe she often reflected, where real cows’ milk - not powdered - was enjoyed by one and all. The farm eggs were large and juicy and the succulent cheese homemade in the dairy. In London, these luxuries, if

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