Chapter 31

Her legs shook as she stepped into her hallway for the last time. Leaning back against the door, Helen studied the familiar area with its tiled floor leading to the kitchen, and doors to the living room and back parlour. As she stared at the highly polished mahogany banister her aunt must have run her hands along hundreds of times as she walked up or down the stairs, it dawned on her that her decision to leave the house that held so many memories for her was now not one she had the luxury of making.

Helen could barely comprehend that she might never again enter this house that had always meant so much to her.

There wasn't any time to spend reminiscing though; she needed to sort out her and Bobby's things and return to him as soon as possible. She decided to pack necessary items first and have them ready for Babs and Peggy to collect in case the Germans returned earlier than she expected. Deciding to start in the bedrooms, she ran upstairs.

She tried to picture what they would need for summer and for winter. For the first time, she was grateful that she didn't own many clothes and that it would be easy to move everything to number 3. She pulled her case from the top of her wardrobe and placed it on her bed. She opened her chest of drawers, scooped up her underwear and night clothes and dropped them into the open case. The ridiculousness of what was she doing occurred to her. Hadn't Ida explained the need for discretion? She quickly tipped the clothes from the case, closed it and pushed it back on top of the wardrobe. No, she needed to be cleverer than that.

Unsure how much bedlinen the Hamels had, she decided to pack some for her and Bobby. Going to the linen cupboard, Helen took several sheets and pillowcases, ensuring she left enough so that it wasn't obvious she had taken any, then packed what she and Bobby needed into them, tying the sheets carefully so she could then tie them around her waist under her coat and give them to the Hamel sisters to do the same. The thought of imposing on the Hamels troubled her but she had little choice now, and if she had to be hidden by anyone Helen welcomed it being her lovely neighbours.

Pleased with her ingenuity, she ran into her aunt's room, bracing herself for the usual slap of emotion that hit her each time she entered it. She opened her aunt's wardrobe, the bedside cupboards, dressing-table drawers and the chest of drawers, carefully taking things she knew to be most valuable to her aunt, not wanting to leave them behind. She chose photos her aunt always had around her, most of her jewellery, several scarves and a half-empty bottle of perfume, wanting to keep the scent of her darling aunt with her for as long as possible and placed them on the dressing table ready to collect after she had taken the other items downstairs for the Hamel sisters to take.

Satisfied that she had done all she could, Helen checked she had her own and Bobby's identity papers and ran downstairs to the kitchen to look for food and whatever else she thought necessary to take.

In the living room she spotted the photo on the mantelpiece and a small painting her aunt particularly loved and always had nearby. It had been a gift from her husband that he had bought for her in St Malo on their honeymoon and Helen knew she must try to save it. She lifted the small painting from the wall, then studied the room for another picture to replace it with. Finding a framed photo of some of Sylvia's friends whom Helen hadn't known in one of the drawers of her aunt's desk, she hung it on the nail where the painting had been.

Her heart ached as she looked at all the things her aunt had treasured. The book Aunt Sylvia had been reading each evening when she had fallen ill was still on the small table next to her armchair. Slipping on her coat, Helen decided to make the most of the deep pockets and picked up the book, along with another that she remembered her aunt reading. It comforted her a little to own some things her aunt had held.

A gentle tap at the front door snapped her back to the present. Helen ran to answer it, praying it wasn't the officers testing her, pulled the door open slowly and peered around it. She was relieved to see her two friends.

As soon as they were inside the house, Babs took several cloth bags from inside her coat. ‘Mum said to bring these in case you needed them. How are you doing?' She leant to one side and peered into the living room. ‘Are you anyway near ready?'

Their sympathy nearly dissolved her determination to stay strong. She had to think rationally and focus on not forgetting anything she might need later. ‘I'm not sure I've packed everything I should, but I've done my best. What if I leave something valuable behind?'

‘Mum said we mustn't let you be very long,' Peggy said apologetically. ‘She also said to remember that yours and Bobby's safety is far more important than trinkets or photos.'

It was exactly what she needed to hear. ‘She's right,' Helen agreed, straightening her shoulders, knowing she daren't allow emotions to overcome her common sense. ‘I have one or two things I need to fetch from my aunt's room first, but I think I'm almost ready.'

‘That's good.' Peggy gave her an encouraging smile. ‘You're doing really well, Helen. Truly you are. We know this is hard for you.'

Helen smiled, grateful to Peggy for her understanding, but she didn't want to delay them in case the officers returned. She couldn't bear to be the one to get these sweet friends into trouble.

‘I'll be two minutes,' she said, running upstairs, terrified she could be the cause of Peggy being sent to a prison camp if the authorities discovered that the confidentiality she had sworn to work by had been breached.

She pushed open her aunt's bedroom door, and scanning the room, quickly opened her dressing-table drawer and took out a powder compact. Then, taking her silver-backed hairbrush, comb and mirror set that her aunt had received as a wedding present from her husband, removed the books from her coat pocket deciding to carry them instead. No one would think it odd to see someone carrying books. Helen then slipped everything she had collected from her aunt's bedroom into her coat pocket. They were far too personal to her aunt to leave behind.

‘Bye, Aunty Sylvia,' she whispered kissing her fingertips and touching her aunt's headboard, feeling as if her heart was being ripped from her chest and she was losing her aunt all over again.

‘Helen? Are you coming?'

Hearing the tremble in Babs's voice, Helen gathered herself and ran back downstairs. ‘I'm ready,' she said aware that if they let her she would be tempted to spend the next few hours trying to choose other items to take with her.

Peggy glanced upstairs. ‘Where are the things you want us to carry next door?'

Helen pointed into the living room. ‘I've put everything in there.'

When the girls had gone to retrieve them, she finished putting the food and Bobby's mug and small spoon and fork together in a basket. She hoped anyone seeing it might think it was just some shopping.

‘Ready?' Babs asked from the kitchen door.

‘I think so.' Helen held up the house keys. ‘Should I take these? There's another pair I've left on the kitchen table for them to use. They were Aunt Sylvia's.'

Peggy nodded. ‘I'd leave the front door unlocked, so there's no need for them to break down the door, but keep one set so that you can let yourself in when this war ends.'

‘If it ends,' Babs grumbled angrily.

The thought of the war ending and being able to move back in gave Helen hope. ‘You think I'll be able to live here again?'

‘I hope so,' Peggy said, motioning for them to leave.

‘Come along, you two,' Babs said. ‘We don't want to be here when they come back.'

No, Helen thought, terrified at the prospect, they didn't.