Christopher has been showing me around the place where he lives. It’s called Crossroad Village. It’s a small town, with a sweet shop, a dentist and a bank in. The rest are just fields and houses. Most people would find it dull and boring, but I find it fascinating. I used to live in a ginormous house, right inside the heart of London. Tommy was never allowed to play outside. Too dangerous, Mum always said.
Next door, there are these four really nice children that Helen said we should say too. One is Christopher’s friend, James. James has three other sisters, Megan, Abigail and Mara.
“You came here from London, eh?” James’ swift voice rustled through my ears like a crisp autumn’s day.
“Yes, I have. We have been evacuated, people call it,” I reply, gazing into his hazel eyes. I know this sounds stupid and utterly pathetic, but I kind of like him. He was much friendlier than when I first met Christopher, and he seemed to like me too.
“I know. My Granddad tells me all about it,” James giggles.
“Wow. You’re lucky you even get to see your Granddad. Mine is back at home,” I grumble. We take two steps back to sit on the wall behind us.
“So… Got any little brothers or sisters with you,” he could tell by the expression on my face and the long awkward silence that it was a no.
“My brother, he was chosen by someone else. I tried, to tell the billeting officer that I wanted to stay with the closest thing I have with me, but he didn’t want to know. Harsh, they are,” I whined.
“Tell me about it. After my father died, we found out that…-” he paused, looked at my face and stopped.
“Found out that…?” I pushed for him to say.
“He killed himself. He didn’t enjoy the war. Not for him, my Mum recons,” James tutted. It seemed like he didn’t mind talking about his Dad’s death. I could never talk about it the James was. “Change of subject! Do you like Christopher?”
“Yes. He’s… Nice and sweet,” I groaned in my head. I’m not too keen on Christopher. His whole attitude is rotten toward me. I glanced at James, to see him looking ahead, his face as long as a fiddle.
“You love him!” James jokes, beaming.
“Oh, piss off!” I laugh, nudging him with my elbow, only slightly. Back at home, I would get a beating if my parents ever caught me swear. My old friend, Georgia, used to do it all the time, so I picked up on it. But I only use it on rare occasions. I guess all the drama in my life has effected my language, and I’ve turned into a right gutter mouth.
“Hey! I thought you were the posh one! You are one naughty girl!” I sniggered, kicking the ball toward some other boys as it rolls near us.
“Yes, you think that at first, but when you get to know me, I’m really not as posh as people say I am,” I answered.
“Harriet! Christopher! Elizabeth! Dinner’s ready!” Helen called through the kitchen window. I could smell the sensations of homemade bread, topped with poppy seeds. Along with a gorgeous pumpkin soup that Helen made from scratch and for dessert, steaming blueberry pie.
After dinner, I ran to my room, where I shut the door and sat on the windowsill, thinking. Thinking about tomorrow. The day after that, and the day after that. I could hear the children play out on the road, playing football and enjoying themselves. By this time, it was seven o’clock and the sun was setting. I do love the summer’s evenings, where the air is crisp and light on your face, while the sun beats down on your body.
It’s in the middle of August. School is out for the kids. And I, for one, need a good nights rest, we have a busy day tomorrow, we’re having a massive village picnic, that happens every August 16th. The villagers of Crossroad bring along picnic food, and have a great day. And to end with, a delicious barbeque including yummy desserts. James has been telling me every detail, and it’s one thing I have been looking forward to since the day Tommy was born.
***
At nine o’clock exactly, the town’s people started to arrive on one of the biggest fields in Crossroad Village. Helen and I traipsed up to the meadow at dawn, and started to help set everything up. I met Matthew, a boy who’s Dad and step-dad died in the war. He had been living here for five months now, and he told me that I will never get over being away from my family. I guess your thinking that’s not very reassuring, but he tells me my Mum will always write to me, because his mum has.
Me and James were so bored by one, so we went for a walk, whilst Elizabeth and Christopher ate themselves silly.
“What do you think of our get-together?” he asked, kicking some weeds out of the way. In the distance, we could hear loud classical music playing, while children playing and laughing and adults gossiping and catching up.
“It’s amazing. I wish London did something like this… But I guess it will cost to much to arrange, let alone get the thousands of people living there to go,” I chuckle. James’ dog, Rusty, was following us, chewing on his tennis ball as we spoke.
“And the war, but lets not talk about that.” James glanced at the gas mask I was carrying in my hand. I told him before I’m a bit superstitious. I feel if I carry it around with me, I feel safer. Helen understands me too. Which must be a good sign.
“Yes. That’s a good idea.” I yawn. I hardly got any sleep last night. I kept waking, getting bad dreams.
“So do you feel crap yet? You know, have you eaten much?”
“Too much to even say! I feel so fat I could explode out of my clothes!” I giggled.
“Same here!” James looked at me. I looked at him. We locked eyes and stared for a moment. Then I knocked out of it.
“Look, James. I need to go, I’ll catch you later,” and I ran away. I left him standing, delirious. Not knowing if there was a connection between us or I was just staring into space.
But I can’t tell you if there was a connection. Because to be honest, I’m not sure.
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