At the bottom of the stairs, the two girls turned to comfort one another. They hugged and wept on each other’s shoulders until they heard the sound of children’s voices and laughter outside. They stepped back to wipe their eyes.
‘One of us will have to go to the phone box and ring the police,’ said Pip.
‘I’ll do that,’ said Stella. ‘Oh, Pip, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this has happened.’
‘One thing is crystal clear,’ said Pip darkly. ‘She didn’t die of natural causes.’
‘But who could have done such a thing?’
Pip gave her a penetrating stare.
Stella gasped. ‘You don’t mean . . . You can’t possibly think it was Gordon?’
‘Who else?’ said Pip. ‘They’ve been rowing a lot lately, and the neighbours tell me they can’t even remember the last time they saw him sober.’
‘She’s not very nice to him, I grant you,’ said Stella, ‘and she did say she wanted a divorce.’
Pip nodded. ‘Dorcas said Gordon wasn’t too happy about that.’
‘Yes, but murder,’ said Stella. ‘No, no. He’s a bit of a twerp, but I can’t believe he would stoop to murder. Oh, poor Flora.’
Pip hesitated.
‘What?’ said Stella, looking around nervously. ‘What is it?’
‘We don’t have to tell Flora just yet, do we?’ said Pip. ‘I mean, we could make sure she has a really happy afternoon first.’
‘But people will know there’s something wrong,’ said Stella. ‘They’ll see we’ve been crying.’
‘They might put that down to the fact that we’re disappointed that the Sussex Sisters won’t be singing.’
‘Someone is bound to ask why not,’ said Stella.
‘Because Lillian is in bed,’ said Pip. ‘She can’t sing.’
Stella frowned uncomfortably.
‘Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?’ Pip challenged.
‘I suppose so,’ said Stella uncertainly. ‘Oh, Pip, I’m not sure I can carry it off.’
‘Yes, you can,’ said Pip. ‘We’re doing it for the sake of the kids, remember?’
Stella nodded.
Pip squeezed her shoulder. ‘We’ve managed to keep our peckers up all through this damned war. Let’s do it for just one more day, eh?’
‘Do you really think it was Gordon?’
‘I don’t know,’ Pip said helplessly. ‘I suppose it could be, couldn’t it? Perhaps he just snapped.’
‘Poor little Flora,’ Stella said again. ‘If they hang him, she’ll be without a mother and a father.’
The front door began to move. They turned together, both holding their breath. As it swung right back, Dorcas was on the doorstep.
‘Oh, it’s you two,’ she said brightly. ‘When I saw the door open and heard your voices, I thought we might have burglars.’ She threw her overnight bag into the hallway.
Pip and Stella glanced anxiously at each other.
Dorcas frowned. ‘What’s up? You look a bit upset.’ Her voice became fearful. ‘Is everything all right? Where’s Flora?’
‘Stella,’ said Pip, ‘you’d better go and make that call. Dorcas, come into the sitting room for a minute, will you?’
‘Tell me,’ said Dorcas as Pip steered her towards the sitting room. ‘Just tell me.’
Stella hurried out of the house. By the time she reached the front gate, she heard the sound of Dorcas’s anguished cry.
The Desperate Dan Gang had gathered at the old house for one last time. They were all dressed in their Sunday best because of the VE party later in the afternoon. Somebody said a photographer from the Gazette was coming to take a picture, so every mother wanted her child to look their best. They had to be careful not to get dirty. Everyone got safely through except Norman, who snagged his sleeve on a nail.
‘Aw, no!’ he cried as he lifted the unravelled wool. ‘My mum will kill me.’
‘Push your sleeve right up your arm,’ said Gideon, ‘and your mum will be none the wiser.’
The smell inside the building was awful. It had always been bad, but today it was worse than ever. They hurried down to the basement. To set up the experiment, Gideon had brought some sturdy-looking plyers from his granddad’s shed. Georgie volunteered to hold Goliath between the plyers while Billy held a nail against the end of the machine-gun bullet and then Gideon would hit it with a hammer. The main bone of contention was where to point the bullet.
‘Try over there,’ said Derek.
‘That’s too near the doorway,’ said Billy, brushing a spider’s web from his trouser leg. ‘What if we hit the doorpost? We might not be able to get out.’
‘And if somebody else comes down,’ said Colin, ‘we might kill them.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Norman. ‘Who else is coming down?’
‘I dunno,’ said Colin.
‘I think Billy is right,’ said Georgie.
‘Who cares what you think?’ said Colin. ‘You’re just a kid.’
‘It’s my bullet,’ Georgie reminded him sniffily.
‘Well, if we point it that way,’ said Norman, ‘it’s too close to the window.’
‘I reckon we should aim it at the shelves,’ said Gideon.
Every boy smiled as he turned towards the shelves, where row upon row of Kilner jars full of unidentifiable fruits stood side by side. They were imagining the satisfying crash as Goliath smashed into the wall, dislodging shelves and sending the Kilner jars crashing to the floor. What could be a more fitting end to the war? And it would be something they’d remember for the rest of their lives.
‘Yeah,’ said Georgie breathily. ‘Let’s do it.’
They had to move the table onto its side; then everybody stood behind it. Colin made sure he was in the doorway so that he could make a run for it should anything go wrong. The atmosphere in the cellar was charged with excitement. Georgie crouched down with his head bowed while he held Goliath in the air between the plyers.
‘It’s not going to work,’ said Billy. ‘He can’t hold it steady enough for me to bash it.’
‘It needs to be firm,’ said Gideon. ‘What we could do with is a vice.’
‘That’s something rude, isn’t it?’ said Derek.
‘Nah,’ said Gideon. ‘My dad’s got one in his shed. You use it to hold wood and stuff when you’re sawing it.’
But there was nothing remotely like a vice in the cellar.
‘I know,’ said Georgie. ‘Why don’t we make that hole in the top of the table a bit bigger?’
‘We can’t shoot Goliath into the floor,’ cried Derek.
‘Of course not,’ said Georgie, ‘but now that the table is on its side, we could ram Goliath into that hole. That way, it’ll be easy to bash the other end.’
‘Good thinking,’ said Gideon.
They chipped away at the wood until Goliath fitted snugly. ‘We’ve made it into a flipping great wooden gun,’ Norman chuckled.
Billy held a six-inch nail against the end of the machine-gun bullet.
‘Ready?’ said Gideon.
‘Ready,’ said Billy.
The gang held their breath. Georgie stared at the wall, waiting to see what got hit first. Some of the others had their fingers in their ears. Norman held a smelly old cushion in front of his face, while Colin got ready to run. Gideon swung the hammer and missed. Everybody groaned.
‘Here, let me,’ said Derek.
‘Get orf,’ Gideon protested as they jostled each other. In the tussle that followed, the hammer was dropped.
Georgie picked it up and took aim. He wasn’t bothered about the nail. He intended to bash the end of the bullet. ‘Ready,’ he shouted, then brought the hammer down.
They heard someone shout, ‘No!’ and then there was an almighty explosion of light, followed a split second later by a loud bang. The boys standing nearest went deaf. Billy was screaming his head off because when the flash came, something had hit him on the arm and the gases made him cough. Even though Georgie had done it without using the nail, when the hammer struck, it had hurt his fingers. There was a hole in the wall and the shelves began to topple, slowly at first, but then they gathered momentum.
‘Get out,’ a voice boomed. ‘Get out, all of you!’
Dust was falling from the ceiling, and as the jars began to slide onto the floor, the sound of splintering glass filled the air. The noise was terrific as the jars exploded and dark red fruit, probably plums, splattered everywhere. They’d been there so long, they stank. The boys nearest the door, who were unaware that Billy had been injured, thought it terrific fun, until they heard a different and more sinister sound. It was a low whining noise followed by the sound of falling timber, and then the whole room filled with dust as the roof of the cellar caved in.
Everyone was bitterly disappointed when Stella broke the news that the Sussex Sisters wouldn’t be performing. After listening to a cascade of complaints and grumbles, she had a job controlling herself. She longed to say, ‘Believe me, Lillian couldn’t help letting you down: she’s dead,’ but she couldn’t breathe a word. Not if she was to remain true to her promise. Flora and Hazel were playing musical chairs. Flora was winning. Stella watched her happy face as she raced to the next chair and squealed in delight as she got there before the other remaining participants.
Nobody noticed the police car that stopped at the other end of the street. Stella supposed everyone thought they were in attendance because of the celebrations. The chance to hear the Sussex Sisters once more had certainly brought in the crowds, but with the announcement that the concert was off, people began to turn away, saddened and upset.
‘Is Lillian all right?’ Mr Knight asked. He had Betty with him.
‘We’ll know more in the morning,’ Stella said diplomatically. She was slightly puzzled by the state of Mr Knight’s face. He was sporting a rather large black eye, and his lip was scabbed over.
‘Shame,’ said Mr Knight. ‘I wanted to have a private word.’
Stella smiled grimly. ‘It can’t be helped.’ Lillian had become wary of the man, and Stella didn’t blame her. He was becoming far too familiar.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ asked Betty.
‘I can’t really say,’ said Stella casually. Betty looked over his shoulder and stared down the road towards Lillian’s house, so Stella added quickly, ‘But her mother is with her, so there’s no need to worry.’
‘Let’s go over to the Alexandra,’ said Betty to Mr Knight. ‘My treat, seeing as how it’s VE Day.’ She slipped her arm through his, and much to Stella’s relief, they wandered off.
A sudden sharp noise made everybody stop in their tracks. ‘What was that?’ Stella asked Mrs Armitage, who was standing right next to her.
‘It sounded like a gun going off,’ said Mrs Armitage. They exchanged an anxious look.
The sound was followed by a low rumble. ‘My God,’ someone cried. ‘Something’s happened.’
Now everyone was on alert. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘Dunno. Down the road somewhere.’
Behind the trees, a pall of dust rose into the air.
‘It looks like it’s near the old derelict house,’ Stella shouted.
‘Keep an eye on the kids for me,’ cried Pip as she began to run.
A policeman had come out of Lillian’s house and he started running too. As soon as they saw him, everyone else ran. As they headed towards the corner, a voice cried out, ‘The old house – it’s collapsed. It’s gone.’
Sure enough, behind the high fence, they could see the pile of rubble where the derelict house used to be. Everyone stared in horror, but there was worse to come. Staggering over the pile of bricks and covered in dust was a small boy.
The men found a hole in the fence big enough to let a full-grown adult through, so several people, including the policeman, tumbled through.
‘Colin!’ cried his mother. ‘What on earth are you doing in there?’ She reached out for him and he collapsed into her arms. His face was covered in dust, and his best clothes looked as if they’d been rolled in flour. Colin was spluttering and coughing.
‘Anyone else in there with you, sonny?’ said the policeman.
Pip pushed her way through the hole in the fence.
When he managed to stop coughing, Colin nodded. ‘The gang,’ he said, his voice hoarse and dry.
‘Gang?’ said the policeman. ‘What gang?’
‘The Desperate Dan Gang,’ said Hazel, coming up behind them.
‘What are you doing here, young lady?’ said Pip crossly. ‘Go back to Auntie Stella right now.’
Hazel pouted and turned back.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Pip said, changing her mind. ‘How do you know about them?’
‘Oh, Mummy, we all know. The boys think they’ve got some big secret, but everybody knows about it. They meet in the cellar and drink beer and smoke cigarettes and stuff.’
‘What!’
Someone had got Colin a drink of water. ‘We never drink beer,’ he spluttered.
‘I saw you,’ said Hazel.
‘Did not,’ cried Colin, ‘and anyway, girls aren’t allowed.’
‘OK, OK, son,’ said the policeman. ‘So how many boys are in the cellar? Can you tell us who they are?’
‘My brother, Georgie,’ said Hazel counting on her fingers, ‘Norman Peabody and Derek and Gideon.’
As Pip took in her breath, she heard several other mothers do the same.
‘Plus Billy Stanford, Leslie, Lionel and my brother Arthur,’ said Colin. ‘Nine of us altogether.’
‘What happened down there?’ Pip asked.
‘We fired Goliath,’ said Colin with a grin.
‘Fired what?’
‘Goliath, our machine-gun bullet,’ said Colin, his eyes bright with excitement. He didn’t seem to notice the collective gasp of horror from the crowd. ‘It was as big as your hat, Mum.’
‘And you fired this bullet in the cellar?’ said the policeman incredulously.
‘Yeah,’ said Colin. ‘It was great. It went off with one hell of a bang.’
‘Language, Colin,’ said his mother.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Colin, ‘but you should have heard it.’ He waved his arms and shouted, ‘Boom!’
Stella had joined them. ‘I’ll take Hazel back home.’
Pip waved her hand dismissively. Her attention was totally focused on Colin and the policeman.
‘Where are the others, son?’ said the policeman.
Colin looked at the pile of rubble. ‘Still down there. In the cellar.’
His words brought an instant reaction. Men and women began clawing at the rubble, throwing bricks every which way. Pip began doing the same. Georgie was down there? Buried alive . . .
Billy’s mother fainted clean away and her neighbours carried her off the site.
‘Hang on a minute,’ said the policeman. ‘We don’t even know where the cellar is. You may be digging in the wrong place. I’ll have to get hold of the owner first.’
‘My son is under there,’ said Norman’s father. ‘How long is that going to take?’
‘Not long,’ said Pip, snapping into action. ‘I’m the owner of the building and I’ve got the plans indoors.’ And outrunning both her friend and her daughter, she dashed back home.