20

A long night meant a long day for Joseph.

He’d pleaded through pinprick eyes to be allowed to sleep on: his head had only hit the pillow an hour or so earlier, but Mrs F was having none of it: ‘Do you think anyone else in the city slept last night, either?’

Joseph didn’t know or care. All he knew was that his eyes stung and his muscles ached. A bench had been no place to sleep, and it had been especially embarrassing to wake up nestled against Mrs F, stealing whatever warmth she had left. The only thing that eased the humiliation was seeing that she felt the same, scrabbling to collect the rifle from the floor and move herself to the opposite end of the bench.

‘I’ll not listen to a single excuse, Joseph Palmer.’

He tried to protest, made a lame claim to a sore belly, which failed to raise an eyebrow, never mind a sick note, and ten weary minutes later, he found himself at the kitchen table.

‘So what did your teacher say yesterday? Are you up to date with lessons, or do we need to catch up at home? It’s a long time since I did any maths or English, but I can muck in if needs be.’

‘She’s still working it out,’ he spat, through an underwhelming bowl of unsweetened porridge. Again, though, he’d noted then ignored the fact that the helping she’d given him was bigger than her own.

‘So, no sums to do? Nothing?’

He shrugged. What didn’t speak, couldn’t lie.

‘Perhaps I should come with you today.’

As his mind raced for an excuse, salvation came in the unlikely figure of Syd at the door, who was just as surprised as Mrs F to see Joseph dash to greet her, school bag and gas mask box in hand.

‘What’s got into you?’ she asked, after he’d practically dragged her through the front gate and up the road. He didn’t reply, nor did he offer anything for a while, as once the relief of escaping Mrs F had passed, he felt tiredness cloud his every step, slowing him to a crawl.

‘Come on. Keep up,’ insisted Syd.

‘Give over, will you. I’ve barely slept,’ he said.

She shook her head unsympathetically. ‘Have you not realised yet, tiredness is something you’re going to have to get used to here?’

‘What, like your rudeness?’

‘I’m not rude, Joseph, just honest. The Germans aren’t going to have a night off just because you need to catch up on your beauty sleep, you know.’

He looked around him. He could see that from the landscape. Every corner they turned, it seemed there was another building crumpled in despair, another crater dug into the road.

‘Thought they were dropping further away than this last night,’ he said. He couldn’t lie to himself; he was scared they were so close.

‘See that hole up there?’ Syd pointed to an especially large crater fifty yards ahead. ‘Until last week there was a double decker bus in there, blown practically in two. Next night they took down that entire row of shops.’ She pointed at more rubble, with naked mannequins scattered in different positions, all of them missing limbs of some description. She flinched, her eyes moving away as Joseph’s remained fixed.

‘Anyway,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘I was surprised to see you dash out of the house like that. Can’t believe you’re so keen to get to school, what with your tiredness and after... well, you know, yesterday.’

‘I’m not keen. I just didn’t want Mrs F coming with us.’

‘Was she threatening to?’

He nodded.

‘Oh.’ She let a beat pass between them. ‘So. Did you tell her?’

‘Tell her what?’

‘About what happened yesterday.’

‘What do you reckon?’

‘Well, I can’t imagine for a second that you did.’

‘Proper genius, you,’ he said.

‘Well it doesn’t take a genius to see that you didn’t ask her to read with you either.’

‘Oh aye? Why’s that?’

‘Well, because the last time I saw it, Adonis was ripping up your book. I’m not a bad reader, but I’d be terrible if I had to read it in a million pieces, with a silverback breathing down my neck.’

‘That’s no way to talk about Mrs F,’ Joseph said, finding himself way funnier than Syd did.

‘She might just surprise you, you know, if you told her the truth. She might want to help.’

‘Yeah, course she would.’ The sarcasm dripped from him. ‘Anyway, there’s nothing she could do that’d surprise me. Just like you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Syd asked with a frown.

‘You know exactly what it means. What was the last thing you said to me when we reached the zoo yesterday?’

‘I don’t know, “goodbye”, probably. Or “see you later.” I know it couldn’t have been “thank you for the wonderful, witty conversation.” ’

‘You said I could trust you.’

‘And?’

‘Well, I saw you, didn’t I? Talking to Mrs F. Telling her everything that happened at school, I bet.’

Syd stopped.

‘Go on,’ Joseph continued. ‘Deny it!’

‘Joseph, I know you think the world revolves around you, but I can honestly say, hand on heart, that it doesn’t.’

‘So what were you talking about, then?’

‘Something else.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Well, it’s true. Anyway, why am I even listening to this rubbish?’

‘Because you said I could trust you.’

‘And you can.’

‘Then tell me what you were talking about!’ he cried, paranoia running through him.

‘I was talking... about my parents,’ she replied, her voice as sad as his was irate.

‘Yeah? What about them?’

She looked at him questioningly. It was rare to see her pause.

‘About...’ she started. ‘About the fact that next week it will be four months since they died.’

‘They died?’

‘That’s right.’

Blood pumped suddenly in Joseph’s ears, making him wonder if he’d heard correctly. ‘You’re not making this up, are you?’

He had said some silly things to Syd in the very short time he’d known her, but from the thunderous look on her face, he knew that this represented for her a new low.

‘Why would I do that?’

His face flushed and he wanted to take it back, but he couldn’t, and instead managed only to make things worse. ‘I don’t know. To cover your tracks.’

‘You think I’d make up the death of both my parents, just so you didn’t think I was a liar. Have you listened to what you’re saying?’

‘No. I mean yes, I mean – oh, I don’t know, it’s just a shock, what you’re saying. I mean, really? That happened?’

She nodded, each movement small and so terribly sad.

‘On the second night of bombing. Dad had his conscription papers already and was shipping out three days later. We were all terrified. Terrified Hitler would take him. Didn’t think for a second that he wouldn’t let us say goodbye first, or that he’d take Mum, too.’

Joseph’s tired head whirred to keep up. ‘But you... well, they didn’t get you, did they? What happened? Weren’t you there?’

‘The siren came late. They didn’t spot the planes till they were practically overhead. By the time we reached the top of our stairs the bombs were already falling, by the time we reached the bottom... well, it was too late. They’d hit.

‘I’m just lucky, apparently, but it doesn’t often feel like that. Only reason I’m here is because Mum threw herself on me, and Dad on top of her. I didn’t know they were doing it. I didn’t ask them to. All I know is I woke up in hospital and they’d gone. Both of them.’

‘You don’t remember anything else?’

‘Only what they told me in hospital. They thought they’d found three dead bodies, until they realised I was still breathing. Just. My ribs were broken and my lung was punctured, but it was nothing compared to...’

‘You don’t have to...’ Joseph interrupted. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more. ‘. . . you know, tell me about it. Not if you don’t want. I didn’t mean to upset yo—’

‘That’s just it, though. It’s never easy talking about it. But it’s better than bottling it up. It’s better than imagining that they never existed in the first place. If I did that –’ her gaze on Joseph seemed to intensify, making him squirm – ‘well, I don’t know how I would act.’

‘So, who are you living with now?’

‘My auntie. She’s nice, but she’s never had kids. And from what I can see she never wanted them. She doesn’t seem to know what to say to me. Maybe that’s her grieving, but it’s why I’m at the zoo half the time.’

‘Cos it keeps you busy?’

‘Yes, that, but Mrs F – well, she lets me speak, and more importantly, she understands. And she cares.’

‘Her? Are you joking me? Only one she has a kind word for is Adonis, and half the time she has a rifle pointed at him.’

‘Are you still going on about that? Mrs F... well, I know she can be grumpy, and a bit, well, abrupt. But honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without her. Her or the zoo. And maybe, if you give her a chance, she can help you too.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Rubbish. You just won’t let her. But I’ll say it again, I’ll help. With the school stuff. If you want me to. I won’t offer again, mind. It’s over to you now.’

Silence fell. A rare one between them. Both of them were quiet with their own thoughts, Joseph trying to process what he’d just learned.

He had no reason to doubt Syd’s news: she was as straight-talking as he was angry, but he couldn’t imagine how she carried that around every minute of every day and still managed to smile. Wasn’t she angry? Didn’t she want to rage at the sky every time it got dark? How did she stay inside when the bombs fell and not want to run outside to throw a grenade of her own? He thought about what had happened to him, about what he had lost, and how furious it had made him.

He watched her for a moment, without her noticing, obviously.

Maybe Syd could help him? If he could only drop his guard long enough to let her.