ALEC'S PARENTS HAD NOT STOOD IN HIS WAY THIS TIME. He wondered if the row with Aunt Lucy had made them feel sorry for him. He decided, instead, that the soldiers' stay had softened all of them a bit. And he imagined his father was weary of challenging him. Besides, he had worked hard for his father, getting the inn ready for the soldiers and then helping Aga with every meal. He deserved to go back to being a galley boy.
From the first day, Alec could see that Douglas was even crustier than Badger. In the daylight, he looked as rough as he sounded—hair matted to his head and arms branded with unsightly tattoos. He always seemed angry, ready to strike out at the smallest blunder. Alec kept his distance, working hard to earn Douglas's trust by jumping at every command.
Their work on the Britannia was demanding. When they weren't carrying fish, they hauled barbed wire and posts up and down the Channel as coastal towns moved to protect themselves from a possible invasion from the sea. As the Britannia glided past the towns and their beaches, Alec noticed how each community was beginning to look the same. Barbed wire fringed the sandy coasts, preventing not only enemies but also residents from using the shore.
Some towns even installed weapons. In Dover, civilians and military men built a hiding place at the end of the dock for an antiaircraft gun. Perched on a rotating platform so it could turn full circle and fire quickly at enemy planes, the gun was hidden in a small boatlike structure tied to the dock. From the air, the gun might be mistaken for just another ship in the harbor, but if necessary, a few bits of planking could be removed to clear the gun for firing.
Alec was fascinated by the army's tactics. He was fascinated by the feel of war. Large holes had been dug on the shore, and stacks of sandbags had been brought in to surround the holes. From the docks, Alec could see dozens of the sandbag huts that would hold soldiers and guns if needed. Oh, he knew he should listen to Aga and be more fearful, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to be part of it.
Alec rarely missed the radio reports. Every evening, he, his father and mum, and Aga tuned in to hear the latest news. The broadcasts upset Aga. She feared the war was nearly upon them. And her fears increased as the people of Dover felt more pinched every day with rationing of petrol, food, and even clothing.
By early spring, the BBC was reporting that more than 250,000 British troops had landed in either France or Belgium.
Certain that Hitler and his army didn't have a chance against the entire BEF, people adjusted to rationed food and waited for news that their lads were coming home. Instead, the news turned worse. Blackouts were stricter, curfews kept people off the streets after ten o'clock, and air-raid sirens blasted forth nearly every day. Alec and his family tried to go on as before, but the signs of war were hurting their town and their business. They'd had only a few guests each week since the soldiers had left.
They were all surprised when the mayor called for an evacuation of the children. "Good thing you're the age you are, boy," Mrs. Tanner called to Alec as he walked past her on his way to the market.
"What's that, Mrs. Tanner? What is it you're saying?" Alec asked.
"You ought to be glad you're nearly grown. You don't have to worry about being sent off to live with some distant relative up north. That's what they're planning to do, you know, send the children away."
"Who is sending children away?"
"The mayor and the town council. They've decided the children will be safer if they're away from the coast. The council thinks we'll be bombed soon—too much of a risk to keep the children here. Schools are closing. Parents are ringing up relatives to take the children until the war's over. Should be no surprise. They've already done the same in London."
"But why now?" Alec asked. Though he spent no time with other children anymore, he could not imagine his town without them skipping along sidewalks or crowding into candy stands. Dover was not a large town. But the many-storied flats rising side by side at the base of the chalky cliffs housed dozens of young families.
"I've heard no more than I've told you. But don't bother with me. Check at the market or the post office. See if they don't tell you the same news."
"No, I believe you, Mrs. Tanner. It's just that I hadn't heard," Alec said as he moved away from her tailor shop and on toward the market.
He tried to imagine what could have pushed the mayor and council to act now. He felt something nagging at his thoughts. Lieutenant Courtright's papers seemed to float before him. Could this all be connected with their mission?
He stopped at the post office, eager to confirm Mrs. Tanner's words. "Aye, heard the news this morning from the mayor himself," one man told Alec. "Parents are being told to find somewhere for their children to live for the next few months."
But why now? Sure, they'd had some false alarms and everyone was a bit edgier, but why now? Then he realized he was sounding just like Aunt Lucy—suspicious that the news in France was worse than they had been hearing.
Alec hurried out of the post office and turned toward the market. There, after collecting cabbage, onions, and what sugar he could get with one ration stamp, he hurried home, anxious to tell Aga about Mrs. Tanner's news.
Early warm weather had brought spring to Dover. Flowering trees held out their boughs as if to shake Alec's hand as he passed by. The newsboys were calling out the headlines—Nazis Invade Denmark and Norway—as they peddled the dailies to shops around the town. The warm weather usually made Alec feel good, but not this day. He barely took notice as he worried about the war looming just across the Channel.
He was certain the BEF was in control over there. After all, most of Britain's forces were settled in France. But now that piece didn't fit with the puzzle about the children. Maybe Aga would know more.
She wasn't there. Climbing up the back stairs, Alec called for her as he peeked into vacant guestrooms. Then, moving down the front stairway to the lobby, Alec heard her speaking to someone at the desk. He stopped and sat down on a step, close enough to eavesdrop.
"Whatever is going to happen, Mrs. Curtis?" Aga pleaded. "What are we going to do if the Germans start bombing? They're sure to aim for the business district, and this inn sits smack in the center of everything."
"I know as much as you do, Aga. It's true we're sitting in the middle of Dover, but we can't let fear beat us. If things get worse, then we'll worry. But we have to go on for now."
"But the children, Mrs. Curtis," Aga persisted. "They're sending the children away. What do you make of that?"
"Maybe the mayor is trying to save the children from the wailing of those horrible sirens." Alec could hear his mum fussing with some papers on the desk. "But you've said it yourself, Aga. War can quickly turn into something awful."
"It's just like the Great War, Mrs. Curtis. Things are happening just like before. We'll not get out of this easy. This corner of the country is what the Germans want. We're the gateway into England, Hitler says. No, this war—this war will give Dover a place in history."
"Perhaps you're right, Aga, but we cannot let it paralyze us."
Once his mum had gone, Alec stood up and continued down the steps. He approached Aga in the lobby. He thought she might be too upset to talk. But he had to know what she had heard about the children.
"Rumors are flying around town, Aga. Have you heard anything?" he asked.
"Oh, Alec," Aga sighed, sitting down on the chair behind the desk. "Children being sent away from their parents. What are we to think? And what about those children who have nowhere to go? What becomes of them?"
"What does the council think is going to happen?"
"I don't know what to think other than what we know already—that Dover has always been a target for invaders. But I've never known our town to send young ones away. Dover has always stood as one."
Alec tried to piece everything together. "Have I got some time before supper, Aga?"
"Sure, Alec boy," Aga replied. "We've got more than an hour before the guests will be down, and setup won't take but a bit this evening. I'll call when I need you."
In his room, Alec pulled out his journal and opened it to a blank page. When the soldiers first left, he had written in his journal every day, trying to keep a record for when they returned. Often, he wrote a message to Will, as if they were talking to each other as they used to do; other times he made notes about the Britannia. But lately, he had written nothing. Now he picked up his journal to make a list. He was certain that tucked within the news around Dover, he could find something that would bring him closer to the truth about the events in France.
Mrs. Tanner talked about the tunnels before the soldiers left.
If Mrs. Tanner is right about the tunnels under the cliffs, orders could have come for both groups on the same day—especially if the command post is under the castle.
Aunt Lucy was sure that the lieutenant knew more than he was saying.
If something big is about to happen in France, Lieutenant Courtright probably knew but couldn't say.
The news about the children from Dover means that danger is getting closer.
Once he had finished, Alec paused and looked at what he had before him. Something big was coming, but what could it be? Were Will and Thomas and the others in the middle of it now?
As soon as he asked himself the questions, he knew where he could find some answers: Douglas's man from the White Horse Pub. He could lead Alec to more details. But how could Alec even get close to him? At fourteen, Alec was much too young to be in a pub, especially at night. And Douglas had said the man came only after dark to the White Horse.
Maybe Alec could hang around outside the pub and follow the bloke on his way back to the castle. Aye, that was what he'd do. Catch up with him on his way back, after he'd had a few pints. Maybe he'd be so tipsy he wouldn't notice he was being followed. No matter. Somehow, Alec had to figure out what was about to happen. He had to find out for Aunt Lucy and for Thomas and for himself. And he was sure the answer was in the castle.
They were going out on the Britannia the next day. He would get up and help Aga, then go early to the ship to talk with Douglas about the bloke from the White Horse. He had many questions.
His plan set, Alec checked the time and realized Aga had forgotten to call him for setup. Poor Aga. He would have liked to tell her what he was plotting—he usually told her everything. But this time he couldn't. She was so upset about the war; she might slip and tell his mum and father, and then he'd be confined to the inn. Soon enough, if things worked as he hoped, he might have information about Thomas that could help Uncle Jack and Aunt Lucy—that could change how they felt about Alec.
Slipping his journal back into its hiding place, Alec nearly ran from his room. This secret was his alone.