The Mind's Eye

The Mind's Eye - Chapter One

Chapter One

Evacuate Forthwith

“Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye…”

That’s what they were singing, all along the train. Hordes of children much younger than me, singing and dancing in their drab school uniforms, flinging their gas masks at each other like catapults. Some of them had lost the name labels that were supposed to be pinned to their lapels, those little white tickets that told the billeting officers where they’d come from and where they were going. But they didn’t care; they just went on singing.

“… Cheerio, here I go, on my way…”

I didn’t feel much like singing. It was all too sad and too sudden, leaving Mum at the station in London, being herded onto the great grey engine like cattle. Leighton didn’t understand my thoughtful expression as he stood beside me, rocking with the motion of the carriage. He wanted to sing, I could tell. But he was only ten, a full five years younger than me; he didn’t even know how to feel the way I did. He didn’t worry about when we’d be able to see Mum again.

Or Dad, for that matter.

“Go and join in Leigh,” I pressed, “I’ll be all right without you.”

My little brother didn’t seem sure about that, but he took the opportunity he’d been waiting for all the same. I watched his skinny legs skip into the throng of children until I lost sight of his brown bowl-cut head of hair in the crowd. I looked around hopelessly, confirming once again that I was the only teenager on the train. I cursed under my breath. I’d forgotten to tell Leighton to take care of his label. It didn’t matter so much for the other kids, now trampling on a sea of white paper name tags on the train floor, but our labels were important. Ours were green.

I took another careful look at the train. The guard had passed through our carriage quite some time ago, which meant that the children who had been initially well behaved had now worked themselves up into a frenzy. They were chattering excitedly about where they were being sent, asking the ones that were good at reading to read out notes from their parents, hanging their heads out of the window to catch a taste of the bitter September breeze flying by. They hadn’t noticed me. Nobody really did. So they wouldn’t notice if I were to do something odd.

I closed my eyes, lifting my arms until the base of my palms rested on my forehead. I took two slow breaths. In and out and in and out. I brought my hands gently down over my face until I could feel them casting a shadow against the light streaming in from the window. The chatter of the children faded into a low hum as I began to concentrate hard on Leighton.

A cold shiver passed through me. When I opened my eyes I was four feet tall and standing in the middle of a mass of giggling boys and girls. One girl with curly blonde ringlets gave the shoulder I was attached to a push. I felt her pinchy grip.

“What’s your name then?” She demanded with a lisp.

“Leighton Cavendish,” I heard my brother’s voice reply.

“Are you goin’ on your own?” The girl asked.

I felt a little dizzy as my brother shook his head.

“No I’m with my sister, Kit,” he explained, “she’s back in the other part of the carriage.”

“Oh yeah,” said the little blonde girl, who I was beginning to think was a rather nasty piece of work. She screwed up her piggy face and shoved Leighton again. I felt the jab harshly. She had hurt him. “Where are you goin’ then? I bet it’s not as good as my place. I’m going to An-jel-see.”

Anglesey, I thought, but I tried my best to keep it to myself. Leighton was fidgeting with his lapels, confirming my worst fears when he dropped his head down to look at them. Through his eyes I saw the pin that should have been holding his green paper label.