We Passengers

Chapter 9

It seemed like quite a jolly time at first, almost like a party. We were at home at the time, me, Mum and Nancy who was already in bed by then. Mum and I were playing cards when the siren went off and we both froze, neither of us moving as we waited for the all clear. We were still waiting when we heard the knock at the door and a voice that I recognised as Mr Parish from over the road telling us we were to get ourselves to the shelter and quick. Mum told me to get Nancy, although she needn't have as I was already halfway up the stairs by then, instinct kicking in before I even knew what I was doing. Having been half asleep, Nancy was whining and didn't want to move so I ended up half pushing her down the stairs ahead of me, still, bless her, in her nightie, and I hastily got her into her coat before we all trooped outside to join our neighbours as we made our way to the shelter at the school. There were other kids of Nancy's age, most of whom had also been in bed and I felt sorry for the little mites as they stared around them, not quite sure what was going on. When we got to the school, there was a marshall ushering us all inside and separating us up to try to give us as much room as possible and the three of us ended up in the gymnasium with about fifty other women and children. Although a lot of the kids were scared, I wasn't; by that point, we'd been through enough drills and false alarms that it was almost humdrum; more a nuisance than anything to be alarmed about. A couple of the women started a bit of a sing song to try to get the kids to settle and, while they were doing that, another enterprising group went off to search the staff room for ciggies and coffee. No such luck though; with rationing, everybody hung on to what they had for dear life, although little Sarah McKenzie did find a bottle of dreadful South African sherry with a few dregs left in it in the headmaster's desk. I made a sort of bed for Nancy from a gym mat and some old curtains and soon we all settled in and quieted down, the only noise being the muted conversation of the women and the occasional giggle from one of the kids who were treating the whole thing as a sort of impromptu sleepover. I was just nodding off myself when we heard the first bang, so loud that the building shook and I was sure that we'd been hit but, I'd later find out that it wasn't even close; that the building that had been hit was a clothes factory about five miles away in Stratford. Well, of course, that was it for the peace and quiet as some of the children were woken up for the second time that night and the more hysterical of the women began to cry, making my head thud with the beginnings of one of my headaches. One of the marshalls came rushing in then, told us all to calm down, that we were alright - he'd been standing outside at his post and had seen the plane and then the flash from where it hit and I could see that he was shaking, although he hid it well. Off he rushed then to tell everybody else the good news and, once again, we began the work of getting a bit of peace and order to things and, about ten minutes later, we'd just about managed to get everyone settled again and, that's when the lights went out. The hush that followed was so complete that I wondered, for a moment, if the bomb had hit us after all and that this new silence was whatever follows when we die but then the voices started; quiet at first but then getting louder and more panicked as it became clear that the lights weren't coming back on. The gymnasium was in the middle of the school building with no windows and so the dark was so absolute that I had to grope behind me and grab Nancy's foot to make sure she was still there, earning myself a sleepy kick and a mumble but, thankfully, she didn't wake up for the time being.

'Ginny?’ Mum called softly, her voice scared and not at all like her usual one and I called back,

'I'm here Mum,’ as I reached around blindly for her hand in the dark. When I found it, it was cold and clammy and I gave it a squeeze, ‘It's alright Mum, they'll get the lights back on in a minute.’ They didn't though. Not in a minute and not for the rest of that long long night. Wide awake, most of us sat talking softly through those hours, jumping every time we heard a sound that didn't belong - at one point, I was sure that I felt a mouse scurry over my leg and I jumped up and shook myself down, too afraid then to sit down again until exhaustion forced the issue about an hour later. It was about five o'clock in the morning when one of the marshalls came and told us that we'd been given the all clear and could all go home and, silently, we all filtered through the school building and out of the front entrance where the sun was just starting to show itself. Back home, me, Mum and Nancy had tea and toast in silence then it was time for me to get ready and go to work, even though I felt like I could barely drag myself to the end of the road, let alone get through a full day on my feet.

The tunnel's here now and I close my eyes as we enter it, not opening them again until I feel the light change against my eyelids and know that we've come out the other side. I realise that I can no longer hear the screaming woman - Mrs Logan, according to Trevor, and I'm glad; there's a war on and she should know better than to go upsetting everybody like that. I look at my watch and realise that it must be nearly time for our stop, the one that the railway people promised us all. We're to stop at Staines where we're to be given tea and cake and half an hour to do whatever needs to be done and I find myself cheering up a bit at the prospect of some tea and the chance to stretch my legs a bit after being cooped up in this carriage for so long. I stand and drag my bag down from the luggage rack to make sure that I'm ready for the stop that can only be minutes away now and then I sit back down and wait. Won't be long now. Not long at all.