Chapter 47

3 September 1943

Helen lay on her mattress resting her head on one hand as she watched Bobby colouring in the book Babs had found for him. She didn't think she could be more miserable. She still hadn't heard back from Richard, the attic was airless and muggy, despite the window being wide open, and today marked the first day of their fifth year at war. Even the Great War only lasted four years, she thought, covering her mouth so Bobby couldn't hear her sobs.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep living in this purgatory. Even people in prison had a break walking around a yard outside for an hour, or so she believed. All she and Bobby had to look forward to was going downstairs for a couple of hours.

The thought of not being able even to step outside was driving her mad. An hour outside. Just one. Surely that wasn't too much to ask? She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. Unfortunately, it was too big a risk to take with the soldiers living next door. If they weren't there then maybe she could take a brief walk when darkness fell, but in summer, when it didn't become dark much before nine o'clock, she wouldn't have much time to go anywhere and be back inside before the eleven o'clock curfew. Maybe she could persuade the sisters to let her borrow Babs's coat and hat so she could join Peggy for a walk some winter evenings when it was darker.

She decided she would broach the subject that evening. She needed something to look forward to, because it didn't look like there was much else in her life to give her hope.

There was a gentle tug at her sleeve and she opened her eyes to see Bobby holding his colouring book near her face. She took it from him and sat up, impressed with his attempt to keep most of the colouring between the lines of the farm animals printed on the page.

‘Clever boy,' she said, putting the book down and clapping, sad to think he had never seen a cow, or even a dog close up.

Bobby jumped up and down and gave her a cheeky smile. If only that was all it took to cheer her up. She might feel endlessly guilty about him being stuck in the house but it helped that it didn't seem to faze him. ‘Does Mummy's clever boy want to give her a hug?'

He stepped into her arms, wrapping his own tightly around her neck and making her laugh. He might spend his life within the walls of the house, but he was certainly strong. Another thing she should be grateful for, she decided.

‘Shall we look out of the window and see what birds we can find?' He nodded. ‘Remember, we must whisper.' She lowered her voice to remind him how quiet he must be. ‘We don't want the Nasties to hear us, do we?'

His eyes widened and he shook his head. ‘No, Mummy.'

She lifted him and sat him on the wide window ledge, taking care to hold onto him. They both enjoyed these times each day, when they watched for birds. Helen reminded herself that she might be stuck up in the attic most of the time but at least she had a changing view of the sea in St Aubin's Bay. She wasn't sure which view she preferred: like this, with the sea so calm it was almost mirror-like, reflecting the azure of the sky, or on stormier days. Stormy days had always been her aunt's favourite. One summer day, when Helen and her family were holidaying with her, Sylvia had come to Helen's room and pointed out of the window at the view. It wasn't as clear as this because they were a floor below, but Helen could still see the sea. On this particularly dismal day, her aunt had commented that the sea was the colour of her favourite jade ornament.

Helen thought of the small jade netsuke her aunt had treasured and wondered what might have happened to it. If only she hadn't been in such a rush she might have thought to bring it with her to number 3. She sighed cross with herself for not picking it up when she was packing her aunt's precious things. Maybe it would still be in the house after all this was over, she thought, doubting it but hoping for the best.

Bobby's small hands rested on her cheeks and turned her face towards him.

‘Mummy, are you crying?' he whispered, his eyes welling with unshed tears.

She forced a smile, angry with herself for letting her emotions get the better of her when she needed to stay strong for him. ‘No,' she whispered. ‘Mummy was thinking, but not of bad things.' She spotted a bird and was glad of the distraction. ‘Look, Bobby, there's one.'

He forgot his concerns and immediately pressed his palms together with excitement. ‘Birds, Mummy. In the sky.'

Hearing voices coming from her aunt's house, Helen put a finger to her lips, then lifted Bobby from the windowsill and lowered him quietly to the floor. She pulled the windows closed, careful not to make a sound. She hated having to shut out what breeze there was, especially on a day as warm as this one, but had little choice. She kissed the top of Bobby's head, thinking how good he was not to make any fuss.

‘Shall we have your afternoon nap?' she asked. She should have put their mattress and bedding away when they got up that morning but had little energy to do much these days.

He looked at her as if he was trying to make up his mind then went to join her, and they both lay down on the mattress.

‘If you close your eyes, Mummy will tell you a story.' She wasn't sure what to tell him but watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, a smile on his sweet face. She loved him so much her heart ached. She took a long, deep breath. He was the most precious child and all she needed in her life. So what if she was stuck in this room? She had Bobby with her, and they were safe. They wouldn't always be here, she was sure of it.

She gazed at him and made a silent promise that when they escaped the confines of the house once and for all, she would make up for all the times they had missed running on the beach, playing in the woods or with kites, swimming in the sea. And if they couldn't do all the things she wanted them to do, she would help him imagine how it would feel to push his feet into warm sand and run into cool waves.

‘Are you ready for Mummy to begin?'

‘Yes,' he whispered.

‘This is the story of a little boy called Bobby,' she began, and his cherubic lips drew back in a smile. ‘And his first trip to the rock pools on a magical beach.'