‘My dad says there’s a German spy round here,’ Tommy Gurney announced to the school bus two days later. ‘He says there must be, cos how else did they know where to bomb?’
‘But they missed Bristol,’ pointed out Fred Moore.
‘Yeah, but maybe they didn’t.’
‘Didn’t what?’
‘Didn’t miss Bristol. Maybe they hit their target. My dad says that they must’ve knowed that there was a top-secret place up there and that’s what they was aiming for.’
‘Well, it’s certainly top secret,’ put in Stephen Morgan. ‘Me and Sid went over that way the other day and we was chased off by a man with a big dog.’
‘Yeah,’ Sid agreed. ‘Couldn’t get close enough to nothing, so must be top, top secret. Them Germans’d want to bomb that, wouldn’t they.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,’ Tommy averred. ‘My dad says someone must’ve tipped ’em off. Someone what knew it was there. Someone who’s German!’ He stood up and looked round the bus. ‘And who do we know who’s German?’
‘Sit down, Tommy Gurney,’ Sam roared from the front of the bus. ‘No standing up while we’re moving.’
Tommy flopped back down on to his seat, but he could see he’d made his point and he grinned wolfishly at Charlotte, sitting pink-faced beside Clare halfway down the bus.
Clare turned to face him. ‘You talking about Charlotte?’ she demanded.
‘Anyone else we know German?’
‘That’s just stupid, Tommy Gurney,’ Clare shouted at him. ‘How would Charlotte get a message to Hitler?’
‘That’s what we’d all like to know,’ shouted Sidney Morgan. ‘Spies have ways.’
‘Yeah, they send messages in code!’ cried his brother.
‘Charlotte’s not a spy!’ cried Clare.
‘How do you know? You don’t know. She might be.’
‘Nobody knows where she came from, do they? Just turned up with you vaccies.’
‘She could be fifth column,’ called out Ernie Clegg. ‘She’s probably been telling them all about us ever since she got here.’
‘She’s fourteen,’ Clare said dismissively. ‘What Nazi is going to use a fourteen-year-old as a spy?’
‘She’s German,’ stated Tommy, undeterred. ‘She’s German and we hate Germans, don’t we?’
There was a murmur of assent all around the bus.
‘So,’ continued Tommy, triumphant, ‘we don’t want nothing to do with her.’
‘You’re just stupid,’ declared Clare. ‘A stupid, stupid boy!’
‘And we don’t want nothing to do with you, neither, stupid vaccie!’
By the time they got off the bus, Charlotte and Clare were on their own. All the other children preferred to side with Tommy Gurney, seeing safety in numbers. Whether Charlotte was a spy or not they neither knew nor cared, but she was German and therefore the enemy and fair game.
For Charlotte it was a return to the early days in London. She remembered only too well the days back at Francis Drake Secondary, Roger Davis and his gang with their taunting and bullying; until, that was, Harry had hurtled to her rescue, fists flying. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought of Harry. She could do with him now. This time, however, Charlotte knew that she had to stand up for herself; there was no Harry to come to her rescue.
She got through the day with pale-faced determination, ignoring the collective spite of the other children. Clare stayed with her in the playground in the morning, but like Hilda, she fell victim by association. On the bus home she sat with Charlotte, but it was an uncomfortable journey for them both as the jeering continued.
That evening Charlotte’s spirits were low, her face pale, and a haunted look in her eyes. She’d become used to being part of Wynsdown. That she was German had ceased to be important; she was just Charlotte Smith, who lived with Miss Everard and was popular with the girls at school.
‘What’s the matter, Charlotte?’ Miss Edie asked over their supper. ‘You seem a bit down. Aren’t you feeling well?’
‘I’m all right.’
Miss Edie’s lips tightened. ‘No, you’re not. Come on, tell me what’s the matter.’ She waited, watching Charlotte struggling with her decision. Clearly something was wrong but unless Charlotte confided in her, Miss Edie knew she could do nothing but wait.
Her silence was rewarded when, with a deep sigh, Charlotte said, ‘They say at school that a German spy told the bombers about that army place.’
‘So?’ prompted Miss Edie.
‘They say it was me.’
‘You!’ Miss Edie gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, my dear.’
‘It is not ridiculous if you are me and no one speaks to you.’
‘Is that what’s happening?’ Miss Edie’s laughter died as she saw the misery on Charlotte’s face.
‘It was Tommy Gurney’s idea, I think,’ said Charlotte and she explained what was being said about her.
‘I’ll come down there tomorrow and speak to the headmaster.’
‘For me... better not,’ Charlotte said. ‘It’ll stop soon.’
Yes it will! thought Edie. If she doesn’t want me to go to the head, I won’t, but I will get it stopped.
That evening, while Charlotte was doing her homework, Edie went out.
‘I shan’t be long,’ she said, ‘I just have to see the vicar about something. Don’t forget your piano practice if I’m held up.’
Charlotte, struggling with an algebra problem, just nodded and Edie went to the vicarage.
‘Is the vicar in?’ she asked as soon as Avril opened the door.
‘He’s in his office, but he’s got Peter Bellinger and John Shepherd with him. I don’t suppose he’ll be long. Would you like to wait?’
‘Yes, please,’ Edie replied. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to the major as well, so perhaps I can kill two birds with one stone.’
They waited in the kitchen and Avril, always someone unhappy with an uneasy silence, said, ‘Nancy Bright was telling me that you used to sing in the church choir.’
Edie gave a knowing laugh. ‘Well, Nancy Bright would, wouldn’t she?’
Avril smiled ruefully. ‘I’m afraid we were talking about the choir and your name came up. It’s a pity you don’t still come and sing. We’re a bit thin on the ground these days and Nancy says you’ve got a lovely voice.’
‘Does she now?’ Miss Edie’s face was hard for a moment and then she said, ‘So’s she, for that matter!’
‘Would you like to rejoin?’ Avril asked tentatively.
‘I’ll think about it.’
Before either of them could say more, the door opened and the vicar came in with John Shepherd and Peter Bellinger.
‘Miss Everard! What a lovely surprise,’ the vicar cried. ‘We were just going to have a drink before Peter and John went. Can I tempt you to one too?’
Miss Edie shook her head. ‘No, thank you, vicar, but don’t let me stop you. I just wanted a word with both you and Major Bellinger.’
‘Sounds serious,’ said the major, watching as the vicar poured each of them a measure of whisky.
‘Well, I think it is,’ Miss Edie replied.
‘Now,’ said David settling himself at the kitchen table with the others. ‘What’s the problem?’
As quickly as she could Miss Edie repeated what Charlotte had told her. ‘I have no idea what’s going on in that military place over the hill,’ she said, ‘and I’m not asking. But somehow I want it scotched that there was a German spy. My poor Charlotte has been taking flak at school today because she’s German and the stupid children, led by Tommy Gurney, of course, and egged on by the Morgan twins and that Clegg boy, are saying she told the Luftwaffe where the military zone was so they could bomb it.’
Peter Bellinger gave a guffaw. ‘But that’s ridiculous!’
‘I have to admit, I laughed, too, when she first told me,’ Miss Edie said, ‘until I saw her face. As far as I understand it, she’s been sent to Coventry. The children are calling her a spy. It’s a bit of excitement. Charlotte’s German and it’s an excuse for bullying.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ insisted Avril. ‘You must speak to the headmaster. He’ll have to deal with it once and for all.’
‘I can’t, she’s asked me not to. I think this sort of thing happened to her in London when she first arrived and she weathered that storm, but now it’s happening again. Children can be very cruel, particularly in a gang, and they’re ganging up on Charlotte now.’ She turned to Peter Bellinger. ‘I was wondering if you could have a word with Tommy’s father. He’s in your Home Guard, isn’t he?’
The major grimaced. ‘Yes he is, and I imagine that’s where the stupid idea came from in the first place. He’ll have said something like it and Tommy’s just parroting his father. I’ll see what I can do, of course, but Bert Gurney isn’t an intelligent man and once he’s got an idea in his head it’ll be difficult to shift it.’
‘Billy and Charlotte were found up by the zone that day,’ John Shepherd reminded them. ‘That was before the raid. They’ve said nothing, but anyone could have seen them. The rumour could have come from there.’
‘But the whole thing is utterly preposterous,’ said the vicar. ‘As if a fourteen-year-old girl had the means to contact the Germans.’
‘I believe they’re suggesting she’s in touch with the fifth column,’ Miss Edie said.
‘Leave it with me, Miss Edie,’ Peter Bellinger said. ‘I’ll do what I can to put a stop to it.’
But it wasn’t Major Bellinger who put a stop to it, it was Billy Shepherd. When his father got home and told him what was going on, Billy felt rigid with rage. How dare they bully his Charlotte? His Charlotte. She was the first and only girl he’d ever been interested in and that was how he’d come to think of her. He listened to what his dad was saying and then spent the night awake, planning what he was going to do about it. Next morning he went to Blackdown House.
‘I’ve come to walk Charlotte to the bus,’ he told Miss Edie when she opened the door.
A smile flashed across her face. ‘Billy, how very nice. Come in. I’ll tell her you’re here.’
Charlotte was amazed that Billy had turned up so unexpectedly on her doorstep.
‘Hallo, Billy,’ she said. ‘You’re early into the village.’
‘Yes,’ Billy answered casually. ‘Had something to do, so I thought I’d walk you to the bus.’
Miss Edie watched them set off down the lane with relief. Billy’s father must have told Billy about Tommy Gurney’s rubbish and he was going to deal with it.
Charlotte had no idea Billy knew about the events of the previous day, but she wasn’t looking forward to school.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Billy remarked. ‘You all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Charlotte replied, and they walked on in silence.
As they came towards the green they could see the children, gathered outside the Magpie, waiting for the bus. Charlotte hung back a little, but Billy, not appearing to notice her reluctance, walked on to the waiting group.
‘She won’t dare show her face today,’ Tommy Gurney was boasting to the Morgan twins. ‘Not now we’ve found her out. My dad’s going to tell Major Bellinger an’ I ’spect she’ll be arrested soon.’ He didn’t see Billy coming, but all of a sudden found himself being spun round and held in a vice-like grip.
‘What were you saying?’ Billy enquired softly, his face menacingly close to Tommy’s.
Tommy’s eyes widened. Billy was two years older, six inches taller and had broadened from hard physical work on the farm. Tommy saw the cold anger in Billy’s eyes, felt warm breath on his face. ‘N-n-nothing,’ he stammered.
‘Oh, I think you were.’ Billy remained icy cold and was all the more terrifying for it. ‘Say it again, so I can hear what lies you’re spreading about my girl.’
‘Your girl?’ echoed Tommy faintly.
‘Yes, my girl.’
‘Your girl’s a German spy!’ called a voice from the safety of the group.
‘My girl is German. A German who’s lost her parents, her brother and her home. A refugee from the very people you pretend she’s spying for. Charlotte... is... not... a... spy.’ He spaced the words out for emphasis. ‘And if I hear any more of such utter nonsense from anyone... they’ll regret it.’ His grip tightened on Tommy and the boy squeaked with fear.
‘Now,’ Billy went on conversationally, ‘I’ve heard that you’ve all been treating my girl very badly.’ His eyes turned to the Morgan twins who were standing amid the others. ‘I know who the bullies are.’ His eyes flicked to Ernie Clegg, who squirmed away behind Fred Moore. ‘And this I promise you: one more word from any of you about spies, fifth columns and hating German girls and I’ll come and get you, each and every one, and you’ll wish I hadn’t.’ He jerked Tommy’s arm sharply up behind him, making the boy cry out in pain. ‘Understand, Gurney?’ He waited for a response and when there was none he jerked again and repeated, ‘Understand, do you?’
‘Yes,’ gasped Tommy.
‘Good,’ said Billy and released him. Billy turned his attention to the other boys. ‘You lot better believe me, an’ all,’ he said. ‘Another word from any of you and I’ll find you, wherever you are, and you’ll truly wish I hadn’t.’
‘Bully!’ muttered Stephen Morgan.
‘Takes one to know one,’ remarked Billy calmly, and turned his back on them all.
Charlotte, still standing a little way off, had watched the whole encounter in amazement. Now when Billy came towards her, she could feel colour flooding her cheeks. Billy had called her his girl.
‘Who told you?’ she asked as he reached her side. ‘Miss Edie?’
‘Nope,’ replied Billy. ‘Heard it on the grapevine. But you just let me know if you have any more trouble from any of these little shits and I’ll sort them out.’
They all heard the sound of the bus coming up the hill into the village, and the children scuffled together, ready to get on. Billy linked his arm through Charlotte’s and led her to the bus. He allowed everyone to get on first and then, very deliberately, kissed her gently on the cheek before she, too, got on the bus. As it pulled away he could see her inside, taking her seat next to Clare. He had claimed her, his girl, and he set off back to Charing Farm with a light heart to begin his day’s work.
The mood in the school bus was subdued to begin with, but gradually the noise rose to its normal level. Clare squeezed Charlotte’s hand.
‘It’ll be all right, now,’ she said. ‘They’re all afraid of Billy.’
Charlotte smiled. She was in a world of her own. How could anyone be afraid of Billy? He was kind and gentle, but not so, she now knew, if anyone threatened his girl. His girl. Charlotte’s heart raced at his words and she touched her cheek where he’d kissed her. He had claimed her publicly and she was his.