Page 24 of The Stranger in Room Six

Mabel

In Devon, each day seemed to blur into the next. Mabel would wake with a sense of peace, the sunlight streaming in through the tall diamond-shaped windowpanes.

Then the truth would gradually dawn. Mama and Annabel were missing. If she was honest with herself, they were probably dead. Papa was away fighting, and any minute now Mr Hitler might march up the beach towards the Old Rectory and they’d be murdered in their beds.

Or at least that’s what the women talked about when they gathered at the village hall for camouflage netting afternoons or tended the allotments so they could ‘dig for victory’.

Mabel had this vision of digging and digging until she found a Jerry underground whom she could knock on the head with her shovel. She’d never hurt anyone before in her life, but when she thought of Mama and her baby sister, she felt she could quite easily kill a German without any regret at all.

Throughout all this, Aunt Clarissa and the Colonel would hold long meetings late at night in the library, working out how they could ‘get England back on its feet’.

Mabel knew this because, each night, she’d try listening at the door, thinking that if only she could help them too, then perhaps Aunt Clarissa wouldn’t dislike her so much.

One evening, the door flew open. Aunt Clarissa was on the other side wearing a pale blue evening gown as if dressed up for a party.

She was with a group of people that Mabel had never seen before – certainly no one she recognized from the village.

They eyed her coldly, as if she shouldn’t be there. ‘What do you want, child?’

‘I’d like to know if I can help you beat Mr Hitler,’ said Mabel staunchly.

Aunt Clarissa’s eyes hardened. ‘What have you heard?’

Mabel felt her own voice waver. ‘Only that you are working out how to get England back on its feet and destroy the enemy for ever.’

‘Good girl,’ said a deep voice from behind her aunt. It was the Colonel. ‘Don’t worry, Mabel. We’ll let you know if you can lend a hand when the time comes. Now meanwhile, I’m afraid this meeting is private. Why don’t you go out and check that Foam is settled for the night?’

Foam was an old carthorse who, to Mabel’s delight, had been in the stables when she arrived. ‘She’s a safe ride,’ said the rosy-cheeked elderly groom. ‘I remember your mother riding her at your age, although your aunt wasn’t so keen.’

A lump came into Mabel’s throat. The thought of Mama having ridden the same horse made it feel all the more special.

Meanwhile, Mabel couldn’t help wondering why Aunt Clarissa had never married.

In the past, when she’d asked her parents why this was so, they’d gone quiet for a bit and then said she’d never found the right person.

Maybe she’d found the right person now, Mabel told herself.

On more than one occasion since her arrival, she’d noticed the Colonel’s hand brush her aunt’s.

The following morning, her aunt informed Mabel that they were expecting more company that evening. ‘We don’t want any disturbances. You’re to have an early supper and bedtime.’

How disappointing! When her parents used to have dinner guests, she would be allowed to meet them in the drawing room in her best dress and with her hair plaited by Lizzie.

‘What a charming girl,’ the guests would coo.

Her parents would beam down at her approvingly, and Mabel would feel warm and loved and safe.

‘No, you certainly can’t join us,’ snapped Aunt Clarissa when Mabel expressed this wish. ‘In fact, if I see you up and about, I will send you back to London immediately. Bombs or no bombs.’

‘Now, now, Clarissa.’ The Colonel turned back to Mabel. ‘Your aunt doesn’t mean it,’ he said kindly. ‘She just gets a bit agitated before people visit. In fact, it’s really rather exciting to have a crowd. Just like the old days!’

Mabel recounted all of this to Frannie. The two girls had become fast friends, and were now up on the cliffs, looking out for U-boats. Everyone in town was terrified the Germans might invade by sea.

‘What kind of visitors?’ Frannie asked, intrigued.

‘According to Cook, they’re a mixture of wealthy farmers and people with titles. Rumour has it that there’s even an actor,’ said Mabel conspiratorially.

Her friend frowned. ‘It’s not right. We’re meant to scrimp and save during wartime.’

Then, as they reached the cliff edge, she pulled some bracken across and revealed a gaping hole. ‘Look!’

‘A tunnel!’ gasped Mabel. ‘Where does it go?’

‘Down to the main beach. Me dad and uncles have been digging it for ages, but it’s nearly finished now. If the Germans land, the women and children can escape to safety on the fishing boats.’

‘Can your mother sail?’

‘She can row,’ said Frannie staunchly. ‘We all can. Course, I’m going to stay and fight them with my bare hands.’

‘But you’re a girl!’

‘So what?’

It was another world. To think that not so long ago she and Mama and Papa and Annabel would spend their weekends walking along the river or in Hyde Park. And now she was here and they were gone.

‘If my mother had gone into that shelter with me, she would still be alive,’ she said in a small voice. ‘And so would my sister.’

‘So, you’ve accepted they’ve passed then,’ said Frannie gently.

‘I suppose so,’ sniffed Mabel. ‘Mama would have come and found me by now if she’d survived.’

Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms around her. Then Frannie stepped away, flushing. ‘My mam says you’re very welcome to come round for a cup of tea and scone one afternoon. But don’t tell your aunt. She won’t appreciate you coming to a humble place like ours.’

‘I’d love to,’ said Mabel, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’

That night, Mabel had an early supper and washdown at the sink – baths were restricted to once a week to save on gas. Then she spent the evening with her nose pressed against her bedroom window waiting for the guests.

By 10 p.m., she’d given up and gone to bed.

In the morning, her aunt’s face was even more pinched than usual.

‘Did your guests enjoy the dinner party?’ asked Mabel politely.

Clarissa’s lips pursed. ‘That’s none of your business.’

But when she marched out, leaving Mabel alone in the breakfast room, Cook got very cross.

‘No one came! If you ask me, it’s because of the petrol rationing.

All that food wasted! It’s a crying shame.

The missus wanted me to bury it in the allotment instead of giving it away but that’s because she doesn’t want folk knowing she’s entertaining when others are going hungry.

It’s all right for her lot. They don’t know what an empty stomach’s like. ’

‘I’ll take it home,’ Frannie said eagerly when Mabel told her.

‘Let me help,’ offered Mabel.

‘You can bring it when you come for tea. Mam says to come this afternoon.’

When she got there, she found a cottage which was small in size but bursting with warmth.

‘These are my brothers, and this is Grace, who’s just turned four.

’ A pretty little girl with long hair ran up and danced around her.

If Annabel had lived, she might have grown up into a lovely child like this.

The thought brought a lump to Mabel’s throat.

‘It’s so nice to be here,’ she said to Frannie’s mother.

‘Ah, thank you. You’re welcome any time. And you’ve brought a whole hock of ham! How very kind.’

Frannie’s father was a large man who relied heavily on his stick, having been injured in the Great War. He sat in a big chair with an antimacassar on the back. They’d had them in London too. Mama had told her they were to soak up the men’s hair oil.

Now, he sat forward in interest. ‘Frannie told me what you said about your aunt’s important visitors. Sounds like they were coming a long way. Did anyone mention a name or say if they were coming again?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Ah, that’s a pity.’

‘Why’s that?’ Mabel asked.

‘Just because then we can have more food if there’s any spare,’ said Frannie’s mother quickly.

‘I’ll let you know if I hear anything.’

‘Thanks love.’

It gave Mabel a nice feeling to know she was doing some good. That’s what the war was all about, wasn’t it? Those who couldn’t fight were at least able to help in the war effort at home.

The following week, Mabel overheard Cook ranting to the groom in the courtyard.

‘Another dinner party when the rest of us are rationing! She says it’s for the one who was meant to come last time, that friend of the Colonel’s. A real lord, apparently,’ Cook sniffed.

Mabel flew down to Frannie’s cottage. Her friend – or ‘the maid’, as Aunt Clarissa kept saying she had to call her – hadn’t come into work that day because of a cold. But this news couldn’t wait!

Excitedly, she banged the front door knocker. Frannie’s mother opened it, wearing her apron.

‘Aunt Clarissa’s got a lord arriving tonight so there might be some spare food tomorrow!’

‘Is that right?’ said Frannie’s mother. ‘Thank you for telling us. I’m afraid you can’t see Frannie. She’s asleep. Poor lamb has got a nasty fever.’

Mabel was beginning to feel rather warm herself. That night, she woke feeling hot and bothered, after a dreadful nightmare in which there’d been lots of shouting. Then she realized there really was shouting downstairs. What was happening?

Shivering, she went to the top of the bannisters. Down below she saw a tall man she’d never seen before, being marched to the door, hands tied behind his back with rope. ‘Please,’ he called out. ‘Help me, someone!’

‘You’ve made a mistake,’ shouted the Colonel, running after them. There was a panic in his voice that she’d never heard before.

‘I hope for your sake you’re right, sir,’ said the policeman. ‘You can clear it all up at the station.’

Aunt Clarissa was weeping, her hands over her face. After they left, Mabel flew down the stairs to comfort her.

‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Clarissa. ‘I don’t know what you heard but they’ve made a mistake.’ Then her eyes widened. ‘I need to tidy up the dining room.’

There were papers all over the table. ‘Don’t touch them!’ she roared at Mabel. ‘Just leave.’

On her way out, something glinted on the floor. Picking it up, Mabel saw it was a small red-and-black badge with a square design of interlocking lines.

‘Do you want –’

‘I said, get out,’ yelled her aunt. Mabel ran back to her room. She would, she told herself, put the badge somewhere safe and give it to her aunt when she calmed down.

If only she’d handed it over immediately, life might have been very different.