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Away from Home — an evacuee’s story: part three

By Rosemary Stevens

LIFE AWAY FROM HOME

The first day at Willowmere, Farndon, was a Saturday which was nice as it meant that we had the weekend to settle in. The twins showed me the garden, which had a big vegetable patch, and the pigsty, which had two pigs in it, and the hens and bantams. There was a field with about ten bullocks in it and another field which led down to the River Trent. The twins told me that they had had a motor boat on the river, but that it had been commandeered to be used to get the soldiers back from Dunkirk when France had fallen. They never got it back as it had been sunk.

They told me about their family. Their eldest sister was Joyce, who was twenty two and was a secretary in Nottingham. She would not be called up to be in the Services as she had a completely stiff leg which has been caused by being hit very hard by a ball when playing hockey. The second sister was Sheila who was eighteen and was at a domestic science college. The third sister was called Marjorie. She didn’t live at home as she was badly disabled, both physically and mentally. I never saw her as I returned home shortly before she was to come for a holiday. I did meet tall slim dark Joyce whose leg really didn’t bend at all, and Sheila sometimes came home at weekends. She was fair and jolly.

I also learned that Mr.Knight, who was grey and moustached and seemed about half the size of his wife, was the local corn merchant with an obviously flourishing business in Newark.

We went to the Methodist chapel in Newark on Sunday morning. I wasn’t used to going to church or chapel, but it was OK. They sang rather different hymns from those we sang at school. Two nice old ladies sitting behind us gave the twins and me a curious sort of tough jelly sweet to suck.

On the Monday we went to school. We’d been told that our school day would be from 1p.m to 5p.m. The Newark High School girls went from 8.30 to 12.30. We’d been given — I can’t remember when — a free season ticket for the bus.

Life was odd, but one soon got used to it. I had the mornings free. We were supposed to do our homework then, but I’m afraid I didn’t do very much. My Latin suffered as I was used to Mum giving me a bit of help and encouragement when I was stuck. There was also no-one to ‘hear’ me when I had to learn poems or vocabulary. Also we had fewer text books and there were no books in the house that would help. My marks were not as good as they were at home.

I spent a lot of time exploring the meadows and the outhouses and apple lofts around the house, I also read a lot of library books.

A fortnight after I was there I had my thirteenth birthday. Everybody was very kind. Mrs.Knight gave me a very pretty handkerchief case and Sheppy gave me a lovely mug, dark blue on the outside and yellow inside. I also had an iced sponge cake with candles. They really were kind people.

Mum sent me a striped blue and ginger jumper and another short sleeved green one which she has knitted. They went well with my ginger weekend skirt (my luggage had arrived, thank goodness. I was tired of school uniform). Mum also sent some money and telephoned me. This made me feel a bit sad.

We didn’t really have an Easter holiday — just the weekend, I think they wanted to keep in touch with us all.

As soon as the weather got a bit warmer I used to bus into Newark each morning to the swimming pool and meet my school friends. It was fun, but the water was unheated. My mother would never have let me go on some of the chilly days! I would then bus back to Farndon, have my lunch on the corner of the dining room table by myself and catch the 12.30 bus back to school.

The twins and I would take bike rides (I borrowed Sheila’s bike) round the lanes. It was quite safe as there were very few cars. We also found a lovely old tree in the garden which was hollow inside. We could climb up it either on the inside or the outside and we made a sort of platform at the top. It was by a footpath and we could sit up there and look down on the people passing by without them knowing we were there. That was fun. We also found an old apple loft. You could only reach it by climbing up walls and a sloping roof. It smelt deliciously of apples. We found an old bench and managed to get it up there and called it our club house.

David and his friend Jim took me to the pictures occasionally. Once Sheppy took me to the pictures.

Sheppy sang and played the piano very well. She used to be out a lot in the evenings entertaining troops at nearby army camps and airfields. She once bought a charming Polish airman to Sunday lunch.

There was one thing I found odd. Every morning before breakfast we all had to stand behind our chairs. Vera the maid would come in and so did the cleaning lady and Mr. Knight would give a little sort of sermon. Then we knelt down with our faces on (or nearly on) the seats of our chairs and we would pray for a long time. One morning there was a wasp crawling on the carpet towards me, I gazed at it in horror. Would it sting me? Luckily it veered away when it was nearly touching my knee.

Mr.Knight was a quiet man. I think he felt a bit outnumbered by all the females in the house. He didn’t speak to me much. I was a bit in awe of him. He never remembered where I came from and if I had a letter he always said ‘How is everything in Woking?’ and I said firmly ‘Worthing’. Looking back, I think it might have been his idea of a joke. But he didn’t smile, and neither did I.

Sheppy discovered that I liked singing and so she used to play the piano for me to sing lots of her songs. These were popular, jolly little songs like ‘It’s foolish but it’s fun’ and ‘When April Sings’ and ‘The Second Minuet’. Sometimes we had to perform when visitors came — like aunties and the Polish airman (though I think that was probably to pass the time as conversation was a bit difficult!)

My parents came up for a weekend when Dad had leave. They came to the house for tea. I was proud of my parents. Mum looked nice, and Dad was splendid in his RAF Officer’s uniform. They stayed in an awful hotel called the Ossington where the food was terrible, the last meal was at 6pm and you couldn’t even have a cup of tea or coffee or any sort of drink after that. Even for wartime that was dreadful. Dad complained like mad, but they had to put up with it as there was nowhere else in town with any rooms to spare.

Mum came up later on for one night on a bus trip for parents arranged by the school. She stayed with us. It was lovely but too short. We went into Newark and she bought me a new pair of sandals. I didn’t like them much. They were ordinary and dreary. You had to give seven clothing coupons for a pair of shoes and there was very little choice.

So the summer went on until we were into July. We had exams coming up. I wasn’t looking forward to them as I hadn’t done enough work.

THE FINAL STRETCH

The authorities, whoever they were, had decided that the danger of invasion was over for the time being. So at the end of term we could go home. I don’t know how the rest of the schools went home but we were allowed to go - within reason - as soon as our parents wished. My parents decided that we could come home by train about a week before term ended because Dad had some leave and they could meet us off the train at Liverpool Street station.

I was very pleased and excited. After all, I had been away for nearly five months. Looking back on it I think I was rather too obviously pleased. I was thoughtless and a little unkind. I had a calendar and crossed the days off and didn’t hide my excitement. I feel bad about that now.

Life at school in this last fortnight went on. We had an outdoor country dancing exhibition, both schools together. Each year in each school did a dance and it ended with both schools together dancing ‘Circassian Circle’ and ‘Brighton Camp’ in two huge circles, each going in a different direction. It was fun. Mrs. Knight came and said it was a lovely sight, about a thousand girls in summer frocks dancing together. She also said that our school danced much better than the Newark girls, which pleased me. Exam results came out. Only 45% for Latin, 48% for maths, 60% for history and geography and 75% for English. Not bad, but worse than usual. I wrote and told my mother. She replied ‘not good enough’ which I thought was a bit hard!

The days passed slowly. Muriel and Nancy were told that their father was going to buy them a horse. I thought how lucky they were. I didn’t realise at the time that it was to be a substitute for me!

Actually, the twins weren’t going to miss me much as they were going to Penrhos College, a boarding school which had been evacuated away from the Welsh coast to Chatsworth House in Derbyshire. This was (still is) the home of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. We went to visit it when they were deciding whether the twins were to go there. I had to wait in a huge hall with portraits of ancestors all round while the headmistress — very tall and dignified — too them to her office to interview them. When they came out we were asked if we wanted to go to the toilet. We did, and went to the most magnificent loo I had ever seen. It was like a mahogany throne on a little platform and to flush it you had to press a discreet little brass knob with your foot. I came out and said to the twins ‘I’ve been sitting on the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire’s country seat and we all got the giggles, rapidly suppressed as we approached the grown-ups.

Mrs.Knight told me when I was alone with her once that she’d asked for a ‘well-spoken’ girl as an evacuee because she thought the twins were picking up a local accent at the high school. Obviously my influence was not enough — hence them being sent away to boarding school!

The day of our departure came. Mum had sent our train tickets. Sheppy kissed me, Vera hugged me and the twins and I said ‘goodbye’ rather awkwardly. Mrs.Knight drove me to the station, picking up David on the way. When we got to the station David suddenly said ‘I’ve left the tickets on the mantelpiece’. I felt awful, disappointed and ashamed. There wasn’t time to go back for them. Mrs.Knight found the station master and he wrote out a replacement slip for us. I hardly had time to say ‘goodbye and thank you’ to Mrs.Knight. I kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ as if I’d done something silly. She was going to have to bring the tickets to the station. Oh heavens, it was a regrettable way to leave. On the train I was so cross with David that I could hardly speak.

However as we approached London everything else was forgotten. On the platform were Mum and Dad. Mum was nearly crying but smiling at the same time.

We walked along the platform. This was rather difficult as the station had been bombed the previous night and there were heaps of rubble and broken glass everywhere. A broken umbrella was sticking out of one of the heaps. As we came near, a railway porter grabbed the tattered umbrella , held it over his shoulder and walked off down the platform whistling.

I would have liked to get across London by taxi or bus, but Mum insisted that we went by tube as she felt it was safer and there would not be hold-ups because of damaged roads and buildings.

We got to Victoria Station and had a rather nasty boring sandwich in the buffet. On the journey home I was asking questions. Was Bessie all right? And Kittypuss? And our rabbits? Yes, they were all all right. Mum said there were four books waiting at home from the Children’s Book Club which I belonged to.

So we got to Worthing station. We walked, carrying lots of suitcases, the half mile to our home.

And there it was. A squarish house on the corner. It hadn’t changed a bit.

I was home.

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