On the Run from 1939

Four

“Why is our daughter here? She should be with her family.” Mother shouts from the front door.

“I can explain.” Robert explains.

“You better hurry then.” Father says, anger in his voice.

“My son said that he followed her to your house’s bombing and that she fainted. So, he brought her here. She would have frozen otherwise.”

“Well, it is not really much warmer in here, is it?” Father says, smiling at his snarky remark.

“How dare you.” Robert shouts, charging for Father.

A scream leaves my cold lips. I fall to the floor, still awake, but teary eyed. Mother runs in and pulls me into the safety of her arms. She strokes my hair, telling me everything will be okay. She pulls me out of the door frame and a horror meets my eyes…

Father, battered on the floor. Robert, over him with a plank of wood, blood staining it. Simon, holding Robert back from my Father’s moribund form.

Mother and I run to Father. He coughs, blood splattering his coat. Face. Arms. Everywhere…

Before I can control my actions, I run to Robert and hit him. Repeatedly hit him, wishing him six feet under.

Firm hands pull me away from Robert’s bruised back, my abuse soon to show his newly emerged war scars. I look back and see Simon pulling me away from the beast who hurt Father.

Then it all goes black.

I awaken back at the Anderson shelter. Puzzled, I arise and look to see Simon talking with Mother, their voices hushed. I catch the odd sentence like Mother saying “Keep her safe. We do not want her to get hurt.” I also see Father sitting on the bench, holding his stomach, affected by Robert’s deadly blows. Mother holds a note, a scared look on her face, conveying that something is not right. She puts her hands on Simon’s shoulders and nods at him, a solemn look now replacing the one of fright. She gives him the note and goes to help Father tend to his wounds.

Simon walks towards me and whispers something in my ear, but I do not catch what he says as he pulls me up and drags me out of the shelter. Without talking, he hands me the note. I read it, my feet thumping the ground as I do so.

Inhabitants of this shelter,

In a month’s time, every child, injured man and pregnant woman will be evacuated to different places in the vicinity of England and Wales. These places will be safe areas where it is deemed safe from the war. Meet at the National London Train Station at 6am, 2nd November for this process to be initiated.

Anyone over the age of 15 who does not fit the above criteria is ordered to stay in London for working purposes. All women staying will fulfil the roles of the working men who will be sent off to fight in our war.

Yours faithfully, Winston Churchill

“It was found outside the shelter.” Simon says, his breath heaving from the running. I lean against the nearest wall, my hand slipping from simon’s grip and falling to my side. “That means…” I start, not able to finish.

“You’re going to have to work. I’ll go off and fend for our country in the war.” Simon finishes, leaning against the wall next to me.

We sit there silently for a while, thinking the news over, the devastation of our separation settling in. “There has to be a way we could-“ I start.

“Stay together… I know. That’s why I’ve taken you with me.”

“Wait, what?” I ask, confusion spilling into the conversation.

“Your mother asked me to look after you. Said she didn’t want you staying here with the threat that you could get bombed. So she asked me to take you away to safety. Cause you would’ve had to stay cause you’re seventeen. Probably work in a factory, or the coal mine.”

My insides shiver at the thought of working in the mines, slaving away every day…

“So you decided to bring me along with you. You are saving me, thank you.” I say, thankful he had the heart to protect me from what could be outside of the ruin of London.

“Yes. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I smile, happy he wants to keep me safe from harm. Safe from our country. “Come on, we have to keep moving and make sure that we don’t get caught. The army’s looking for soldiers and if we don’t move we might get found.”

I get up and grab simon’s hand to help him up. But his weight pulls me down onto him. I feel a rush along my body, being so close to the man I love…

Our lips briefly connect as I collide into him. We stare at each other for a split second as he pulls me in for more. All the stress leaves me as we present our love, locking it away from the army who wish to pick the locks.

He pulls away; we just stare at each other more. My dress covered in mud and soot at the waist where he holds me.

“We should go.” He says, out of breath from our… moment. I do not anything but I nod a get up, painfully restricting myself from helping him up, wanting to revel in the experience again. He grabs my hand and our fingers intertwine as we walk further away from my parents, the only thing connecting me to my old life.