All Fall Down by Jenny Oldfield

heart was squeezed tight, she had to hand over the letter for Walter to finish.
    He scanned it. ‘Oh, this ain’t right, Sadie. He’s writing in secretbecause Mrs Whittaker said not to let us know poor Geoff’s ill. She thinks we’ll only worry.’
    â€˜Too right we will.’ Sadie stood up, ready to go for her hat and coat then and there. ‘That settles it.’ Her mind flew over the things she would have to arrange; leave of absence from the factory, train tickets, an explanation for Annie so that she could keep an eye on Walter and Meggie.
    â€˜What you up to now?’
    â€˜I’m gonna bring them back home, no messing.’
    â€˜Wait. We aren’t one hundred per cent sure yet, are we?’ He couldn’t help thinking of the toll on everyone’s nerves; the day-in, day-out worrying about what Hitler was up to. In Walter’s opinion it was a matter of when, not if, he would strike.
    â€˜Sure of what?’
    â€˜Sure it’s the right thing.’
    She frowned with the effort of giving him a hearing. ‘I know one thing, Walt, it ain’t right where they are now.’
    She’d spent the winter in an agony of doubt, veering between hoping for the best; trusting human nature and the will of God and fearing the worst: that the Whittakers were the sort who might exploit evacuees, and what this might entail for her two boys. She also had the evidence before her eyes of other mothers, worried sick about their absent children, taking all means to get them back home, travelling by bus or by truck, even hitching a ride into the country to fetch them.
    â€˜I don’t think it’s safe to have them back,’ Walter insisted quieuy.
    â€˜Oh,’ she cried, ‘says you! What about the others who think it is perfectly safe? Why do you think we’ve got shelters and sandbags and sirens and klaxons? So we don’t all get blown to bits, that’s why!’
    â€˜But if Jerry does start in on us—’
    â€˜If, if, if! It’s been “if” for more than six months, and nothing but false alarms and rumours.’ She argued as if her life depended on it.
    Upstairs in her room, Meggie heard the raised voices and came down.
    Walter tried to think straight. It was true, many families had taken the risk of being back together. He’d also heard some horror stories of children being abominably, treated in their billets; worked to the bone, half starved even beaten. Now the letter from Bertie made it likely that their own sons had been far from kindly received.
    â€˜He ain’t mentioned his new Wellingtons,’ Sadie said with a choking sob. ‘What happened to that parcel, Walter?’
    â€˜Right.’ He nodded as if this tipped the balance. ‘Pack your bag.’
    Sadie gasped with relief. ‘I can go and fetch them?’
    In the doorway, Meggie stood hugging her dressing gown to her chest. She knew this would put her own increasingly desperate search for her father well down the list of Sadie’s priorities. However, she could hardly object.
    â€˜Meggie, fetch the brown suitcase from the attic, then run up to the Duke and ask your gran to come down, quick as you can. You can tell her I’m going to fetch the boys back home.’ It was as if the weight of the world had lifted from Sadie’s shoulders. ‘Oh, Walter, I’m sure this is the best thing. It feels right. I want the boys with us, whatever happens.’
    Meggie went on her errand, while Walter followed Sadie round their bedroom as she began to pack. ‘Do you want me to come?’
    She straightened up in the midst of folding a navy blue and white spotted blouse. ‘If you want.’
    â€˜I want what you want. And what’s best for the boys. And Meggie.’ He left the choice to her.
    â€˜Then I think I should go. You stay and take care of things here. I have this idea to go on the train to Manchester, to