DOOSH!
Eric landed on the cardboard boxes on the boat.
On London Bridge, whistles blew.
TOOT-TOOT!
Shouts could be heard.
“STOP THAT BOAT!”
“SOMEBODY DIVE IN AFTER HIM!”
But they were deafened by the sound of the barge’s engine as it powered along the Thames.
CHUGGER! CHUGGER! CHUGGER!
Soon the bridge and all those on it were in the distance.
Eric lay down on one of the boxes, resting at last after what had been the most dramatic of nights. Grandma was gone forever. He couldn’t let the same fate befall Gertrude. He had a matter of hours to save her.
Soon Eric could feel the barge slowing as it entered the port. He hid between a gap in the boxes, and as soon as the barge reached the dock he leaped off. The port was bustling with dockers hard at work, and no one paid much attention to this little stowaway.
Now Eric was in a distant and unfamiliar part of East London.
The boy had to find his Uncle Sid. With the old man’s help, he was sure they could save Gertrude.
In no time, Eric spotted the nearest underground station. Without money to pay for a train ticket, he had no choice but to slip through the barrier. When the ticket inspector called after him…
“HEY! COME
BACK HERE!”
…he leaped on to the stair rail and slid down it on his bottom.
He sped past Londoners trudging up the steps, laden with blankets, pillows and the like after spending the night on the platform. Eric leaped aboard the first train and sped across the city.
It was strange that for all the years Eric had known his Uncle Sid he’d never once visited his house. No one had. It was something of a family joke. You never went to Uncle Sid’s house; he always came to yours. This made the boy imagine that the old man might be hiding something.
Was his house stupidly small? Or horrendously messy? Or did he hate people using his toilet?
Soon the boy was going to discover Sid’s secret.
Although he’d never been there, Eric remembered the old man’s address from writing Christmas and birthday cards to him. So, studying the map in the train carriage, he found the right stop, Clapham Common, and hopped off.
Blinking in the bright sunlight, Eric discovered it was just a short walk from the station to Sid’s house. Up in the sky, he could see one of London’s many barrage balloons bobbing about. These huge balloons were tethered to the ground all over the city. Their job was to impede enemy aircraft, but, judging by the devastation of last night’s bombing raid, they hadn’t made a big difference.
Sid lived in an impossibly narrow terraced house, pretty much the same as every impossibly narrow terraced house on the street.
That was the outside.
The inside, however, was a completely different story.
Eric knocked on the battered old front door.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“I am not in!” came a cry from the other side of the door. It was Sid all right and, by all accounts, he was very much in.
Eric knocked again.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“I am out!”
“No, you’re not!” called the boy.
“Yes, I am!”
“Uncle Sid! It’s me! Eric!”
There was silence for a moment.
Then came the sound of tin feet clanking on the floor.
CLINK! CLANK! CLUNK!
The letterbox opened.
SHUNT!
“What are you doing here?” hissed Sid through the letterbox.
“I’ve come to see you.”
“I don’t accept visitors. Ever!”
There was a strange honking sound in the background.
HONK!
“What was that?” asked Eric.
“What was what?” replied Sid, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
“That sound!”
“I didn’t hear anything!”
HONK! HONK!
“There it is again!”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that!”
“Just my bottom honking! I had some dried prunes for breakfast.”
“I know the sound of your bottom honking only too well and it doesn’t sound like that!”
“I’m so sorry, Eric. It’s not a good time!”
“Please. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Don’t be silly. What about your granny?”
“She’s gone.”
The next thing Eric heard was a bolt being unbolted and a lock being unlocked.
SHUNT!
CLICK!
The door opened, and Sid stood there with his arms wide open. The boy walked towards him, and they embraced. The pair stood and held each other tight.
No words were necessary.
