CHAPTER FOUR

‘We're still wondering if we can trust you,' said Mary. The tall adolescent girl folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot as she spoke to Maisie. ‘I mean, we've been thinking about it, and you've been very helpful and all that, but people like you are nice for a reason.'

Maisie rested her elbows on the arms of the Windsor chair set alongside the fireplace, and felt the well-trained sense of calm envelop her, a settling of her breathing employed to put not only herself at ease, but the person from whom she was endeavouring to extract information.

‘A valid question, Mary – and you all have a right to an answer from me. But let's just reflect on a couple of things, shall we?'

Archie nudged Jim, who stared at Mary, the three seated on the sofa, while Gracie sat on the floor, at their feet. Interesting, thought Maisie, wondering if the position was a mark of established rank. 74Or was it reflective of family order, and Grace happened to be the younger of the four? She suspected that not one of them had family connections, so the relationship to one another had become their closest bond.

‘You came to London from – where? I assume you made your way up here from Kent. You were looking for somewhere safe to stay while you made a plan and worked out how you could extract yourself from a situation. Am I right so far?'

‘Yeah, that's about it,' said Jim.

‘Oi, I'm doing the talking, not you,' said Mary, elbowing the boy to her right.

‘I don't care who answers the questions because I just want to get to the bottom of what's gone on. It's clear to me you need some protection, and I'm prepared to look out for you – but you've got to help me too.' She took a deep breath. ‘I've gleaned enough to know you were recruited to be part of action against the Germans if they invaded. I'm also aware that you were trained to undertake all manner of work – that's why you can fight a good fight if necessary.'

Maisie regarded the widened eyes now focused upon her, and felt as if she were caught in a Beatrix Potter story with a clutch of young rabbits staring at her in shock. She was at once touched by the youth of the group and how unformed they must have been when caught up in the very adult world of wartime resistance. She pressed her lips together for a second as she fought the urge to look away.

‘I think I know who was ultimately responsible for arranging for you to stay at the Ebury Place house, and—'

‘It was a rich bloke somewhere, one of them who could pull strings.' 75

‘You just can't stop yourself, can you, Jim?' Mary glared at her co-conspirator.

‘Mary, let's all be honest – I know more about you than you might imagine, so let's just get to the most important point here. Someone was the middleman – or woman – and while I will want to know who it is so I can continue to help you, I must know why you are all as scared as … as little rabbits with the fox sniffing around your burrow.'

Grace had begun to shed tears.

‘Oh, Gracie,' said Mary, but instead of admonishing the other girl as she had the boy next to her, she slipped down to the floor to sit alongside Grace, her arm around her shoulders.

‘Come on,' said Maisie. ‘Let's get it all out, then I can consider how best to guide you.'

‘I don't reckon you can, missus, because we're in really big trouble, and we didn't do nothing – not what anyone might have thought we'd done anyway,' said Archie.

Maisie sighed. ‘One thing at a time then. Who are "they"?'

There was silence, then Mary began. ‘The police and …'

‘And who else?'

‘We don't know who they are, but they're some of these secret people.'

‘Now we're getting somewhere.' Maisie paused for a few seconds to give everyone time to catch their breath and recollect. ‘When you say "secret people," do you mean people you've met or seen before, or who you are aware of in connection to the job you were expected to do if we were invaded?'

‘Yes,' said Mary. ‘There were people who came to our training to watch us. We weren't told who they were – we weren't told much at 76all about anything other than what our jobs were. But we knew those bods were important.'

‘I'm going to come back to the question of the "bods," but I want to get to the bottom of what the police, or whomever you believe to be in pursuit, think you might have done.'

Mary and Grace looked around at the boys, then all four turned to stare at Maisie. Mary spoke up.

‘They think we murdered a man,' said Mary, staring at Maisie. ‘You don't look surprised.'

‘Very little shocks or surprises me, and I half expected the story to run in that direction. This might sound like a silly question – but did you murder a man?'

‘No!' Four voices spoke in unison. Grace began to weep again, leaning into Mary, who, Maisie thought, had taken on the role of big sister. Or a mother soothing her child.

‘Thank goodness we've cleared that one up. Now then, tell me the story of what happened on the day a man was murdered and you were – all of you – put in a position to be under suspicion.'

Once again the four looked at one another. Archie cleared his throat.

‘It was my fault.'

‘Go on,' said Maisie.

‘I was doing my paper round, you know, on my bike and off I went. It was raining, so I was being quick about it.'

‘You're always quick about it—'

‘Jim, please let him speak. I want to get this all straight in my mind,' cautioned Maisie. ‘Let's go back a bit. Where were you doing the paper round, Archie?'

‘Where we were living, in a place called Hallarden,' said Archie, 77running fingers through his wayward fringe to reveal a hairline in need of soap and water. ‘Anyway, I was pushing the newspapers through the letterboxes as fast as I could, you know, so they wouldn't get wet from the rain. If papers get wet, Mr Rhodes at the newsagents will hear all about it from the customers, and he'll dock my pay. He's a tight old sod. There's this big house – well, they're all big houses on Sandstone Avenue. Lots of trees and really big gardens with fancy plants and all that. They have walls around them so no one can see the grounds and the house, and tall gates I have to give a good shove to get in. I went up to the door of the really big house at the end, and I could see into the windows, you know, them ones that open so you can walk out.'

‘French doors, stupid,' said Mary.

‘Alright, French blimmin' doors, Miss Know-it-all.'

‘Mary, do us all a favour and let Archie finish,' said Maisie. ‘I'm sure you have your own story, and I'm anxious to hear it, but at the moment, this is Archie's turn.'

Archie sighed, shrugged and went on. ‘I looked through the big French windows because I could see there was a party going on. I was careful because I didn't want them inside to see me, but … but I couldn't stop staring.' Archie wiped the back of his hand across his lips.

‘Why?'

‘They must've all been Germans! And there was a great big flag hanging down from the ceiling, you know, with one of them swastikas. And there were some of the men in uniforms that looked German, and the war was supposed to be over. Then one of them saw me, so I ran, then I got on my bike and I was off. I looked back once and saw the curtains being drawn, but I could hear dogs, so I really got myself going.' 78

‘Was someone killed? Did you see someone die?'

‘No. I just got on my bike and pedaled as fast as my legs could go and even missed the next house.'

‘Then what?'

‘He told us,' said Jim.

Maisie nodded, signalling her understanding, her attention drawn to the young fighters one at a time.

‘Did you report what Archie had seen?'

‘No.' Again, the reply came in unison.

‘But we decided to go back to have a look, you know, because—' said Jim.

‘They didn't believe me,' said Archie.

‘We wanted to find out more so we could go to … to Sergeant Kirby with solid information,' added Jim.

‘Solid information?'

‘That's what we were always told we had to get when the Germans invaded,' said Jim. ‘If we was gathering information, it had to be solid with no mistakes, which meant that nobody would get hurt if it was acted upon.'

‘They used words like that,' said Archie. ‘You know, "solid" and "acted upon".'

‘And what happened then?'

Mary picked up the story. ‘We went to the house a couple of days later. We decided it was best in the late afternoon, just as it was getting dark. It was a good time because we couldn't be out late anyway, and if they've got glims, they don't work very well in that light, so it's easier to hide if the people inside went after us. Anyway, we had a good look around and though we couldn't see any Germans – or dogs – we thought we'd investigate a couple of big sheds, and another building 79that was posher than a shed and not that old, but it was locked.'

‘And you picked the lock?'

Mary began to twist a wisp of blonde hair around her fingers. ‘We were really quiet, creeping in to look. That's where we saw all the Nazi stuff. So we buttoned it up again fast, because we knew we had the right information to give to Sergeant Kirby.'

‘Sergeant Kirby? Right. Then what happened?'

‘That's when we saw the man killed,' said Jim. ‘Shot with a gun.'

‘By whom?'

‘We don't know,' said Mary. ‘It was someone – looked like a man – all dressed in black with a black balaclava covering his head and most of his face. So, we ran. But we thought someone in a motor car saw us coming out of the gardens – they tried to follow us along the road, but we ran through the woods. We knew the police would be after us in no time and if they caught us we wouldn't stand a chance. No one would believe us, because we would have been the first they fingered for it.'

‘Why?'

‘Because we're all from the children's home.' Grace almost whispered, adding to the account. She glanced around at her friends as if seeking their approval, then stared at Maisie, raising her voice. ‘I'm the youngest here, but we're all older than everybody else in the home and Matron was about to turn us four out in any case, on account of not being little children any more, and the war being over.'

Maisie rubbed her forehead and looked down, not wanting to reveal emotion. That explains everything. Training the dispensable. Accusing the easiest of suspects. She looked up, directing her gaze to Archie.

‘Who was the victim – do you know?'

‘The man who lived in the house – Mr Hawkin-Price. He is – was – an 80"Honourable". You know – the Honourable Jonathan Hawkin-Price,' said Archie. ‘I know everyone's name in the houses I go to. Well, the houses I used to go to anyway.'

‘I've heard that name associated with Hallarden. In Kent. So that's where the children's home is – you were there? Didn't it used to be the old orphanage?'

‘That's right,' said Jim. ‘It's a big scary building. It's even got bats in the roof.'

‘How did you know the man who was killed was Mr Hawkin-Price? Couldn't it have been someone else?'

‘He lives in that house alone,' said Archie. ‘Except when he's having his German parties.'

‘He came out and we just knew it was him,' said Jim. He seemed to shiver and tugged at his shirt sleeves as if he wanted to make them longer.

‘And how did you know he was dead?'

‘We saw him go down,' said Mary. ‘The man with the gun was close, then he walked up to him and put another bullet in him.'

‘And you witnessed all this?'

‘We had a quick look back – Mary and me,' said Jim. ‘So we saw the man on the ground and ran a lot faster in case the one with the gun came after us, but he didn't.'

Maisie closed her eyes, imagining the scene. The four adolescents scared, running, but curiosity pushing them to look back in the dusky fading light.

‘And there's something else, and it got us worried,' said Mary.

‘Yes?'

‘It was ever so quiet after that – which was what really frightened us. We've kept an eye on the newspapers and we listened to the 81wireless at the big mansion where you found us, and no one said anything about it on the news. We're not stupid – we know there are people who want it kept quiet about us, or about him, or about all of us.'

‘Good point,' Maisie agreed. ‘Look, I can see you're all tired, and I must leave very soon, but I want you to know I am on your side. This is my flat – we're lucky because the last tenants left a while ago and it's been empty. I'm amazed there have been no squatters. I know you have plenty of food, and I also know there are distractions here – a number of books, puzzles. If you need some exercise, then … then run around the rooms. Don't keep late hours, and catch up on your sleep. I'm going to burden you with my trust – is that clear?'

The four exchanged looks, turned to Maisie and nodded to signal their understanding.

‘Good. And I know the man who arranged for you to have shelter at Ebury Place. He was one of my dearest friends, and he helped you for good reason.'

‘What was that?'

‘I am sure it was because he knew you to be innocent and understood you were at risk. Someone told him your story. He believed it and wanted to help. I have more questions, and I want to start with Sergeant Kirby, so we've got to make this very quick and no arguing or snapping at one another – is that clear?'

Again, the four heads nodded accord.

‘Mrs Scott,' said Archie. ‘What are you going to do, about all we've told you, and when we answer these questions you're going to ask us?'

‘I'm going to find out who killed Mr Hawkin-Price, so you'll be off the hook.' 82

‘Then what will happen to us?'

‘The worst thing you could imagine.'

‘What's that?'

‘A settled place to live comes first. Then we'll see what suits you best – which is either education or an apprenticeship. But for now, let's get on. I have an important appointment later.' Maisie looked at her watch. ‘First things first – who was your initial contact, the person who told you about the Ebury Place house being empty?'

Yet again the four glanced at one another, but were silent.

‘Your heads will fall off if you keep looking back and forth like that.'

Jim, Archie and Grace stared at Mary.

‘We didn't know where to go, so we went to a hideout.'

‘What's a hideout?'

‘A "hideout" is a place where people in the unit could go if the Germans invaded and we were on the run after a … after causing some trouble for them. There's food there, that sort of thing.' She looked down at her hands. ‘We shouldn't be telling you any of this. We could be hung for it.'

‘Anyway, they're starting to get rid of them,' said Jim. ‘We was told to forget all about them, because the army blokes are going in, taking out everything and then filling them in, because the war's over.'

‘Filling them in?'

‘They're underground. Sort of like tunnels with places to sleep,' said Jim. ‘They're all over the place – down to Cornwall, up to Scotland, though we're not supposed to know that. And there's a lot in Kent, because it wouldn't have taken long for Hitler's mob to get across the English Channel.' 83

‘I see,' said Maisie, though she was having trouble ‘seeing' the scenario described. ‘You went along to the "hideout" and what happened then?'

‘A man we hadn't seen before came and told us where to go,' continued Jim. ‘We didn't really need to break in to that house, because he gave us a key.'

‘This man gave you a key?'

‘Yes,' said Grace. ‘And we had seen him once before, because he was the one who taught us how to get into a motor car engine and then how to disable it. That was his word. "Disable." No one told us his name and he didn't let on.'

‘And he taught us where to cut brakes too,' added Archie. ‘So the Germans crashed their motor cars.'

Maisie frowned. Oh, the penny's beginning to drop. ‘Were all your … your fellow … fellow operatives and instructors local?'

‘I suppose so,' said Mary. ‘Some we'd never seen before, but if we know the person, we're not supposed to say anything if we see one another on the street. Mind you, we're not really in town much anyway and I've never seen anyone else.'

‘Don't you like going into town?'

‘We're only allowed to go if we're supervised, because all the shopkeepers think we're light-fingered. It's not worth the trouble if you ask me, and the local children aren't very nice to us anyway, so we keep to ourselves. I reckoned I saw Sergeant Kirby once, but then I thought twice about it.'

‘Yes, let's discuss Sergeant Kirby.'

One hour later, Maisie checked her watch as she left the flat, and shook her head. It was later than she anticipated, but Billy was waiting 84for her. She had placed a call to him after instructing the four guests not to make telephone calls from the flat. Instead she issued them with directions on answering a call from her. The telephone would ring three times, then stop – that was a signal the next call should be answered a few seconds later. The greetings would be coded. Her only fear was that her charges would become bored, so she anticipated a test of their ability to follow her instructions would come soon.

Crossing the quiet street, she stood in the shadow of a neighbouring building, and waited. Soon a shabby figure emerged from the tunnel of sandbags and began to walk away, looking over his shoulder and pushing his hands into the pockets of an almost threadbare navy blue school blazer that would have been small on a younger child. Amid fear for the safety of her young charges, Maisie realised she had been slow to do something about fresh clothing for them. Archie wore trousers in need of a wash, along with a stained check shirt underneath a moth-eaten Fair Isle pullover. His shoes, like the shoes of his friends, were scuffed and worn.

‘Archie!' Maisie called after the boy, ready to discipline him for his own safety. ‘Archie, don't let me ever catch you ignoring my warnings again. Go back inside – now!'

The boy turned, his head low. ‘I was only—'

‘Only nothing,' said Maisie, approaching him. ‘Do you know how at risk you are, Archie? I didn't want to put the frighteners on you, but this is the situation. You could walk down this street and someone might be waiting to kill you. You won't see them coming. Go back indoors and tell your friends that if they leave the flat, they endanger not only their own lives, but it could lead to you all ending up very much like Mr Hawkin-Price – and being "Honourable" didn't 85save his life, did it?' Maisie saw the boy's chin wobble, and put an arm around his shoulder. He's just a boy trying so hard to be a man. ‘You're such a brave lad, Archie, and I admire you for it, but I've seen grown men and brave men make silly mistakes that cost them their lives – don't you do it. Promise?'

‘Yes, I promise.'

‘And you'll make sure the others follow the rules?'

‘Yes, Mrs Scott.'

‘Good. I'll watch you go inside. Lock the main door and the door to the flat. Alright?'

‘Alright.'

‘Go on now.'

Maisie watched the boy scuff his way towards the sandbagged entrance on down-at-heel boots with no laces. She waited until the door closed, and she heard the loud click of the dead bolt, before turning in the direction of the bus stop.

‘Oh, Julian, I wish you had told me more.'

Maisie observed Billy as he sat in the chair opposite her at the Fitzroy Square office. She had drawn two armchairs towards the gas fire and set one on either side. At first she had considered positioning them in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the square. Maurice Blanche had taught her that a difficult conversation could be made less fraught if the person to whom bad news was being imparted had a place to which they could direct their line of vision. So would it be into the hot gas jets, or across the wintery square, where sunshine belied the fact that people walking across the flagstones were hunched over, pulling coats even tighter and hats down towards their ears? She had decided against the cold square and settled on the location offering 86warmth. Given the fact that all forms of energy were rationed, the area near the window remained chilly whether the fire was lit or not.

Billy frowned as he stared at the flames, clutching the arms of the chair until his fingertips were white. He looked up.

‘Let me get this right. My son Billy – sorry – Will. I'd better remember his preferred name.' He blew out his cheeks and exhaled, shaking his head. ‘Will has been home in this country for quite a while and didn't get in touch because he was … he was scared? Of me? His dad? And scared of his mum?'

‘Billy, he is not scared of you, but for you. I'm not going to beat around the bush; he has been tortured, and it shows. His external scars are … horrific. The wounds inside are beyond anything either of us could imagine, and we went through the war they said would end all wars.'

‘But he couldn't come home, to us, his family?'

Maisie took a breath. ‘He held you with him, Billy – that's what brought him home. The love of his family is what sustained him through a terror I cannot even imagine. And … and he talked to Lizzie. He says his little sister came to him and kept him going.'

Billy looked away. ‘I blame myself. We all grieved when we lost Lizzie, but I was worried about Doreen, wondering if she would get through it all. I thought the boys were alright, you know, that their heads were above water. Then Margaret Rose came along, and I reckoned, "We're all going to be steady now. We've got a new little girl, and the boys have a sister again."'

‘And your heads were above water. Your family came through hard times, but Will's the eldest and he took more of the brunt than anyone could imagine. Calling himself Will has been his attempt to be different, to break away. He has been so brave, Billy.' 87

‘And he's with Mrs Partridge now?'

‘Yes, and Douglas. They have a nurse who comes in, and Dr Dene is attending.'

‘Dr Dene. That's one good thing. He helped me to sort myself out.' He stared into the flames. ‘Pity I couldn't have spent a bit more time in convalescence after I came home from the last war. Might've helped me, you know, in the early days.'

‘Yes, it might.'

‘When do you think we can see our son, miss?' Billy stared at Maisie, his forehead lines gathered in a concertina of concern. ‘I mean, it doesn't feel right being kept from him, even though he's a bit … a bit fragile and all that. And believe me, it'll be all I can do to stop Doreen from marching over there and breaking their door down to see her boy.'

‘I understand, truly I do. But I have to go on Will's state of mind and Dr Dene's advice. But how about Saturday afternoon? Give him a few days to get some strength back and feel better in himself. He's been wandering since coming home, so Priscilla's housekeeper is feeding him up, but it has to be done with care, or he can't keep it down. I'll have a word with him on Friday morning – I am seeing Dr Dene at Priscilla's house, but I think after lunch on Saturday would be a good idea.'

‘Do you reckon he'll come home? Doreen will want to look after him.'

‘I think as soon as you have a good chat and he feels better, he'll want to stay with you. I can arrange for a motor car to bring him to your house in Eltham when you're ready to leave.'

Billy sighed. ‘I wouldn't feel so blimmin' upset about all this, but I wish he'd gone to someone else's house.' 88

Maisie inclined her head. ‘Why? I asked Priscilla because she and Douglas have sons too – one who was wounded at Dunkirk and another who risked his life flying Hurricanes during the Battle of Britain. They know what it is to be fearful for your son's life.'

‘Yeah, I know that, but remember, our Bobby had all them plans to have his own garage, working on motor cars and doing well, then big mouth Tom Partridge, her blimmin' Brylcreem Boy eldest, mentioned to Bobby at one of your lunches that he should train to be an aeroplane mechanic. He told him that if he was going to be called up anyway, he might as well do something he's good at. Then look where that took him – flight engineer on a Lancaster bomber, in and out of Germany every blimmin' night. And the thing crashed coming in to land again with half the engines gone and the tail-end Charlie dead!'

‘He survived though, Billy – and now you would never think he'd been hurt. We both know it could have been worse, and whatever happened, he was going to get called up. To be fair, Tom thought Bobby would remain as ground crew and not have to go into any sort of combat. He was trying to help him.'

‘I know, I know – but what you don't know is what's happened since then.'

‘What do you mean?' asked Maisie.

‘Turns out our Bobby and Tom bumped into each other at an aerodrome somewhere, so they went off for a pint. Bobby asked Tom about his fiancée, that American nurse – you knew her father, from the last war.'

‘Charles Hayden. Yes. And Patty is a lovely girl. Her parents were very happy to know she came to Chelstone on her days off.'

‘That's all very well, but Tom Partridge is going to America soon 89to get married, and he told our Bobby that what with the war being over, American commercial aviation is going to take off.' He laughed. ‘Yeah, I thought that was a bit of a giggle, at first – you know, aviation taking off. Anyway, then Tom informs Bobby he's hoping to work for an American airline, and – I tell you, I wish he kept his big posh trap shut – he says, "Bob, you should come over there too. They'll be crying out for top-notch aircraft engineers like you. I've got some good contacts, so you could even get into design." So, that's our Bobby with his head in the clouds. One minute he was saying he wanted to stay in the RAF so he could have the chance of being stationed all over the world, and the next thing you know, he's got it into his noddle that he's going off to America to find his fortune. That's all very well for these Partridge boys because their mum and dad can just sail out there when they like or the boys can afford to come home to see their people. Not the same for the likes of Doreen and me, plus we've got Margaret Rose to think of and our Billy – I mean Will.'

Maisie exhaled, blowing out her cheeks. ‘I see.' She rubbed her forehead. ‘But, Billy, one step at a time. Bobby is still in the RAF, so cross that bridge when you come to it.' She stared at the man who had been at her side during some of her most testing assignments.

‘What?' Billy looked at Maisie. ‘I know that face, miss – something else is up.'

‘I'd like your help with a new case.'

‘I thought you said you weren't taking on anything big any more, just occasionally if it was small, to keep your hand in if something came up of interest.'

‘You're right. I wasn't.'

‘Must be important then.' 90

‘It is. It concerns four adolescents who witnessed a murder.'

‘And because whoever reports finding a body is usually the first suspect, they're in trouble because someone, somewhere, thinks they did it – that it?'

‘Part of it.'

‘What's the other part? And I bet it gets nasty here.'

‘It does – but this is highly classified information.'

Billy rolled his eyes. ‘We always seem to be dealing with highly classified information, don't we? You've no need to tell me that, miss – I've never spoken about what we do for a living to anyone but you. Not even Doreen.'

‘The four youngsters have been part of a secret civilian network of resistance operatives recruited to thwart the Germans in the case of an invasion.'

‘Blimey. Who did they see get himself murdered?'

‘A Nazi – or at least someone in favour of Hitler.'

‘Whoever topped the bloke deserves a medal.'

‘Be that as it may, Billy – but we have to ensure the safety of four young people. Let me explain.'