Rosie and I had to pee in the bushes because the cludgie was in no fit state with so many people. We weren’t the first amongst the bracken and the broom either. Mr Tait gave us the last of his bread and we got dressed in our new, clean dresses with the velvet collars that the lady in the town hall had given us. I tied the trouser belt around my waist so that I could hang Mavis’s shoe from it and made sure Rosie didn’t see. I felt guilty for letting her think she was going to see her mum, but I had to, otherwise she wouldn’t have got ready so quickly.
Miss Weatherbeaten seemed to take ages and when we finally climbed into the bus she was silent for most of the way, as if she wasn’t really with us.
Rosie and I sat in window seats one behind the other, Miss Weatherbeaten beside her and Mr Tait beside me. So I leant over the seat and tickled Rosie’s hair and we watched the green countryside fly past and then the grey streets. There was a church smouldering near the road – the bus had to slow down to get past it. Some boys were throwing stones at the fire. (Stupid boys, like George and Dougie.) Tenements like ours were black with no roofs and only the sky in their place, and packs of dogs were sniffing amongst the rubble. I wondered if we were nearly home.
‘No, Lenny,’ said Mr Tait. ‘This is Glasgow. They got bombed too.’
He told me we had to go into town and change onto a tram to come back out to Clydebank. We would go to the town hall first to find Mavis, passing the hospital on our way, and then come back to the hospital to find my mum. It seemed daft to me but I took his word for it.
On the tram to Clydebank we pressed our noses to the window to see all the fancy shops. Much fancier than Kilbowie Road they were, and more expensive too according to Miss Weatherbeaten. There were cafes with shiny coloured-glass windows, and people I didn’t know walking up and down the street.
‘We’ll be passing the hospital soon,’ said Mr Tait after a bit.
‘Will she see me if I wave?’ I said. ‘I’m going to wave!’
‘I’m going to wave too!’ said Rosie.
‘Why can’t I go and see her?’ I said.
‘She’s probably resting,’ said Mr Tait.
I realised this was most likely true.
‘I’m going to wave anyway,’ I said.
‘So am I,’ said Rosie.
‘Couldn’t I just go and ask at the front door,’ I said. ‘I could go and ask if she’s alright. Surely I could do that, couldn’t I? You could all go to Clydebank, go to work, find Mavis at the town hall and come back here in time for visiting. When did you say it was?’
‘That’s very organised of you, Lenny,’ said Mr Tait, ‘but . . . .’
‘Is that it?’ I said. A huge stout building of red sandstone, like the red tenements at home, had appeared beyond some trees. It had pillars and tall windows, a sweeping driveway and deep, wide steps up to the door. ‘I’d better get off!’
‘That’s the museum,’ he said, tapping my arm. ‘The hospital is over there behind it, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. They probably won’t let you in. Wait and we’ll go up at two o’clock together and I’ll go and speak to your mum.’
‘Can’t I see her?’
‘I don’t think so. They’re very strict about children, but I hope they do let you in because then you can tell her I’m not a scary man with a big stick.’
I hid in my hat.
‘She might not agree,’ he said, ‘but you could tell her anyway.’
The tram had stopped, and I realised my heart was pounding. I needed to tell my poor mum that I was alright, and that Mr Tait and Miss Weatherbeaten were going to find Mavis.
‘I’m going to tell her you can stay with me in Carbeth until she is better,’ he continued. ‘That while she is ill you can stay with me and I will provide for you. If she would like me to do that. If she’ll let me speak to her.’
He looked very serious. The smile had fallen from his kind old face and deep lines had appeared everywhere. He was worried that she might say no. He coughed lightly and patted his brown hat.
‘We’re nearly there now,’ he said. ‘Look, isn’t it grand!’
‘Maybe they could take a message to her,’ I said. ‘I mean a message that I’m still alive.’
My heart was beating hard and I gulped for air. But I couldn’t stay on that tram. She was too close to me by then. I had to go, even if it meant sitting on a wall outside waiting in the freezing cold. I pulled my collar up around my neck and stood up.
‘Lenny, I don’t think . . . ,’ said Mr Tait.
‘Lenny!’ said Miss Weatherbeaten suddenly, making me jump. ‘Sit down IMMEDIATELY and do what Mr Tait says.’
‘Lenny, I really don’t think . . . ,’ said Mr Tait.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Tait, I really have to go. I have to find her. I have to find my mum.’
‘Lenny!’ said Miss Weatherbeaten.
‘Excuse me, Mr Tait,’ I said.
After a pause he, too, stood up and let me out of the seat.
‘Mr Tait!’ said Miss Weatherbeaten. Rosie was silent, pulling at her earlobe.
‘I promise I will be there at two o’clock. Sharp,’ he said quietly. He smiled a weak little smile, almost a laugh, even though nothing was funny. The he reached up with his big knuckly hand and pulled the cord so a little bell went ‘ting’ for the driver.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much!’
‘Lenny,’ he said quietly, slipping half-a-crown into my pocket, ‘you need to be brave for this.’
‘What about Mavis?’ I said. ‘You will look for Mavis, won’t you?’
He looked me in the eye as if he was trying to fill me up with bravery and grit. ‘You know I will,’ he said. ‘Off you go now. Say goodbye to Rosie. Miss Wetherspoon will make sure she stays with us.’
So I stood up on my shaky legs on that big shuddering tram and I said goodbye to Rosie and Miss Weatherbeaten, and suddenly there I was on the pavement, the great yellow and orange tram pulling the tails of my coat after it in its rush to leave me. Rosie screamed and pressed her face and hands to the window, kneeling on her seat with Miss Weatherbeaten’s angry face beside her. Miss Weatherbeaten’s hands grasped her by the middle trying to bring her back into the seat. It was the first time we had been parted. I almost wished I’d taken her with me.
Now I had no Mavis and no Rosie. I held Mavis’s shoe and looked about me. I didn’t even have Mr Tait or Miss Weatherbeaten. I’d have made do with Mrs Mags or even Mrs Wilson at that point, or Mr Chippie, or even Mr Tulloch the farmer. But I knew my mum was not far away and that got my feet going. I watched the tram disappear behind a row of buildings and turned my feet towards the great giant that was the hospital.
Suddenly this didn’t seem so easy.
It was immense, gigantic, enormous and much more and it got bigger and bigger as I trudged towards it. It loomed over me and stretched all around like big arms ready to pull me in. There were turrets with little pointy roofs and balconies and chimneys and hundreds of soaring windows, and I thought about all the blackout curtains they’d need and how big each curtain would need to be. There must be thousands of people in there, I thought, and I wondered where they went when the sirens sounded and how they got people like my mum out when they couldn’t walk. I thought about all the sick people not being able to move, like the bad boys’ granny downstairs in our close who was probably dead. I thought about this big place where all the people were big, and small people, like me, weren’t allowed, unless they were sick too. I needed all the grit I could muster so I thought about Mr Tait filling me up in the tram, and then I reached the steps, and when I was ready I stepped up to the door and went in.