from her school. Her brother was sent to Canada on a ship called the
City of Benares
. It left Liverpool docks on 13th September 1940 with ninety children on board. By then Elizabeth was already in Devon. Lionel was just ten – the same age as Jamie.
As we sipped our tea, she took down an old brown tinfrom a shelf with ‘Sharpe’s Toffees’ written in gold lettering on the top and round the sides. It was full of curled, faded photos of her and her brother taken before the war.
‘We were pretty much free range at your age. Especially in the school holidays. Out after breakfast, back when it got dark. Exploring usually. Every day with Lionel was an adventure.’
We looked through the photos together. They were happy smiling pictures, taken at the seaside or on picnics or at Christmas. Lionel was almost as tall as Elizabeth with blond hair, suntanned skin and a cheeky wide-mouthed grin.
‘Well, this won’t get the baby bathed,’ said Elizabeth with a small sigh, getting up briskly. She went over to the oven. As she opened the door, heat filled the kitchen, which she wafted away with her frail bird-like arm.
‘As ready as they’ll ever be,’ she said as she slowly took out the foil containers and put them on to the table. She told us where to get the plates and cutlery and I served up the food while Re and Jamie laid out the knives and forks.
We sat round the table and ate hungrily as Elizabeth poured herself another cup of tea and sipped it slowly.
I tried to say as little as possible about us but it was difficult. Elizabeth wasn’t nosy or anything. It wasn’t that. She didn’t keep asking questions. In fact, she didn’t really ask many at all but there was something about her. Something that made me let things slip. Things I wanted to keep hidden. I told her we hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, we’d just got a bit lost and were taking ashort cut through her grounds. She just nodded as if this sort of thing happened every day. Then it came out that we were heading for the station because we were going to our Great Aunt’s house. Somehow, maybe because she’d told us all about being evacuated, and because Jamie was the same age as her brother when he was put on that ship to Canada, I started explaining about us being fostered and how we were going to be split up. She was quiet for a moment. I thought she was getting ready to tell us we’d better go straight back home. But she didn’t.
‘It’s a terrible thing for a family to be separated. Not knowing whether you’ll ever see people you love again,’ she said softly.
We helped clear away the plates and I washed them up in the big stone sink. Jamie and Re wiped them dry and placed them back on the shelves.
Then Jamie asked if we could explore the house. I could tell he’d been itching to do this since we’d come inside.
Elizabeth smiled. ‘It’s not looking its best,’ she said.
‘We don’t mind,’ retorted Jamie and he was off in a flash.
It was a huge and rambling mansion just like the one from
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
, with long dark passages, heavy antique furniture and threadbare tapestries hanging from the walls. There was even a suit of armour, which freaked Re out but enthralled Jamie who was desperate to try it on. I put my foot down and told him no. There were nine bedrooms upstairs, two with four poster beds, complete with heavy moth-eaten curtains draped round them so they looked like huge holeytents. My friend Rosie would have had a field day. Every single room had its own fireplace, even the big old bathroom with its huge rusty-edged bath and cracked black and white tiles.
We were just about to go back downstairs when we saw a small door at the end of the passageway.
‘Wonder what’s through there,’ said Jamie, quickly diving round the door. I followed him in and gasped. It was a boy’s bedroom – the most amazing boy’s room ever.
Laid out on the floor against the walls of the room ran a
City of Benares
. It left Liverpool docks on 13th September 1940 with ninety children on board. By then Elizabeth was already in Devon. Lionel was just ten – the same age as Jamie.
As we sipped our tea, she took down an old brown tinfrom a shelf with ‘Sharpe’s Toffees’ written in gold lettering on the top and round the sides. It was full of curled, faded photos of her and her brother taken before the war.
‘We were pretty much free range at your age. Especially in the school holidays. Out after breakfast, back when it got dark. Exploring usually. Every day with Lionel was an adventure.’
We looked through the photos together. They were happy smiling pictures, taken at the seaside or on picnics or at Christmas. Lionel was almost as tall as Elizabeth with blond hair, suntanned skin and a cheeky wide-mouthed grin.
‘Well, this won’t get the baby bathed,’ said Elizabeth with a small sigh, getting up briskly. She went over to the oven. As she opened the door, heat filled the kitchen, which she wafted away with her frail bird-like arm.
‘As ready as they’ll ever be,’ she said as she slowly took out the foil containers and put them on to the table. She told us where to get the plates and cutlery and I served up the food while Re and Jamie laid out the knives and forks.
We sat round the table and ate hungrily as Elizabeth poured herself another cup of tea and sipped it slowly.
I tried to say as little as possible about us but it was difficult. Elizabeth wasn’t nosy or anything. It wasn’t that. She didn’t keep asking questions. In fact, she didn’t really ask many at all but there was something about her. Something that made me let things slip. Things I wanted to keep hidden. I told her we hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, we’d just got a bit lost and were taking ashort cut through her grounds. She just nodded as if this sort of thing happened every day. Then it came out that we were heading for the station because we were going to our Great Aunt’s house. Somehow, maybe because she’d told us all about being evacuated, and because Jamie was the same age as her brother when he was put on that ship to Canada, I started explaining about us being fostered and how we were going to be split up. She was quiet for a moment. I thought she was getting ready to tell us we’d better go straight back home. But she didn’t.
‘It’s a terrible thing for a family to be separated. Not knowing whether you’ll ever see people you love again,’ she said softly.
We helped clear away the plates and I washed them up in the big stone sink. Jamie and Re wiped them dry and placed them back on the shelves.
Then Jamie asked if we could explore the house. I could tell he’d been itching to do this since we’d come inside.
Elizabeth smiled. ‘It’s not looking its best,’ she said.
‘We don’t mind,’ retorted Jamie and he was off in a flash.
It was a huge and rambling mansion just like the one from
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
, with long dark passages, heavy antique furniture and threadbare tapestries hanging from the walls. There was even a suit of armour, which freaked Re out but enthralled Jamie who was desperate to try it on. I put my foot down and told him no. There were nine bedrooms upstairs, two with four poster beds, complete with heavy moth-eaten curtains draped round them so they looked like huge holeytents. My friend Rosie would have had a field day. Every single room had its own fireplace, even the big old bathroom with its huge rusty-edged bath and cracked black and white tiles.
We were just about to go back downstairs when we saw a small door at the end of the passageway.
‘Wonder what’s through there,’ said Jamie, quickly diving round the door. I followed him in and gasped. It was a boy’s bedroom – the most amazing boy’s room ever.
Laid out on the floor against the walls of the room ran a
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