rushing into the room at the first wail of the siren, only to find that it was one more false alarm. One day soon, it would be real, if this was not the day.
But now Flora and Daisy sped down to the shop. Flora hurried to the refuge room but Daisy saw that Mr Fischer was still standing behind the counter and wearing Fred’s apron. ‘Oh, Mr Fischer, you should have gone to your shelter.’
‘It’s a street away, Daisy. I’m safer here under the counter.’
Daisy thought quickly. She locked the shop door. ‘Quick, into the refuge room with me and Mum. Dad’ll have gone to a shelter and there’s plenty of room.’
If Flora was surprised to have one of her customers in the room with them, she showed only pleasure at seeing the old man. ‘So much better than the Anderson shelter you’ll have, I think, Mr Fischer.’
‘Indeed, this is most luxurious, Mrs Petrie. There is an entire family of cockroaches in my shelter and various other species of entomological life.’ He looked at his companions’ puzzled faces and laughed. ‘Sorry, ladies, old habits die hard. Creepy-crawlies, Daisy.’
‘Ugh,’ mother and daughter said together.
‘Were you a teacher, Mr Fischer, in Germany, I mean?’ Daisy asked.
Flora mumbled something about nosiness but Mr Fischer didn’t seem to mind the question. ‘In a way, I suppose,’ was all he said.
‘Let’s see if that tea’s kept warm, Daisy, and there’s a biscuit in the tin, Mr Fischer.’
The tea was barely warm but they pretended to enjoy it and Flora asked Daisy to read their guest Phil’s letter.
‘Can you believe that I too played in the trees like Tarzan? I know, I look too old and stooped, but I was once a boy like Phil.’
Just then the ghastly high-pitched droning stopped and silence fell sweetly. They looked at one another, smiled, but waited for the all clear to sound before getting up and returning to the shop.
‘You’ll take a hot cuppa, Mr Fischer?’
‘Thank you, no, Mrs Petrie. I have promised to show the vicar how to use his stirrup pump. He is determined to be the best fire-watcher in Dartford. It’s not a popular job, as you know – hours and hours alone in a church tower or some such place – but he says if the vicar won’t take his turn to protect the church, how can he expect anyone else to do it?’
They said goodbye and Daisy promised to see him in the morning.
She worked in the shop all the next day but he did not come. He did not come the day after or the day after that, and so, without telling her parents, Daisy went round to The Rectory to speak to the vicar. She worried that the old man might have become ill.
‘Come in and sit down, Daisy.’
‘He’s not dead?’
‘No, my dear. A large motorcar came the night before last, very late. I was on the church roof but it was still quite light, you know, and I saw it. Two men went into the building and later they came out with poor Mr Fischer.’
Daisy’s world was turning upside down. ‘But why? Who took him away? Were they policemen?’
Mr Tiverton patted her hand. ‘I don’t know, my dear. They were plainly dressed and Mr Fischer did not seem frightened or concerned. You must know that all aliens have been rounded up, especially Germans. Frankly, I’m surprised that he was here so long.’
‘Where have they sent him?’
‘I have no idea where he is, Daisy. Many aliens have been put into camps, some have been sent away, even as far as Australia. But many have been questioned and allowed to return home – to their home here, that is, not the country from which they originally came.’
‘Or fled.’
‘Indeed. Or fled.’
‘When will we know?’
‘Oh, Daisy, I know so little. Perhaps someone will inform his landlady; perhaps she has already been told.’
But a very angry Mrs Porter had heard nothing and was extremely annoyed. ‘Best lodger I ever had. Near fifteen years he’s been with me, causes no trouble, reads ’is books, ever such fat ones, listens
But now Flora and Daisy sped down to the shop. Flora hurried to the refuge room but Daisy saw that Mr Fischer was still standing behind the counter and wearing Fred’s apron. ‘Oh, Mr Fischer, you should have gone to your shelter.’
‘It’s a street away, Daisy. I’m safer here under the counter.’
Daisy thought quickly. She locked the shop door. ‘Quick, into the refuge room with me and Mum. Dad’ll have gone to a shelter and there’s plenty of room.’
If Flora was surprised to have one of her customers in the room with them, she showed only pleasure at seeing the old man. ‘So much better than the Anderson shelter you’ll have, I think, Mr Fischer.’
‘Indeed, this is most luxurious, Mrs Petrie. There is an entire family of cockroaches in my shelter and various other species of entomological life.’ He looked at his companions’ puzzled faces and laughed. ‘Sorry, ladies, old habits die hard. Creepy-crawlies, Daisy.’
‘Ugh,’ mother and daughter said together.
‘Were you a teacher, Mr Fischer, in Germany, I mean?’ Daisy asked.
Flora mumbled something about nosiness but Mr Fischer didn’t seem to mind the question. ‘In a way, I suppose,’ was all he said.
‘Let’s see if that tea’s kept warm, Daisy, and there’s a biscuit in the tin, Mr Fischer.’
The tea was barely warm but they pretended to enjoy it and Flora asked Daisy to read their guest Phil’s letter.
‘Can you believe that I too played in the trees like Tarzan? I know, I look too old and stooped, but I was once a boy like Phil.’
Just then the ghastly high-pitched droning stopped and silence fell sweetly. They looked at one another, smiled, but waited for the all clear to sound before getting up and returning to the shop.
‘You’ll take a hot cuppa, Mr Fischer?’
‘Thank you, no, Mrs Petrie. I have promised to show the vicar how to use his stirrup pump. He is determined to be the best fire-watcher in Dartford. It’s not a popular job, as you know – hours and hours alone in a church tower or some such place – but he says if the vicar won’t take his turn to protect the church, how can he expect anyone else to do it?’
They said goodbye and Daisy promised to see him in the morning.
She worked in the shop all the next day but he did not come. He did not come the day after or the day after that, and so, without telling her parents, Daisy went round to The Rectory to speak to the vicar. She worried that the old man might have become ill.
‘Come in and sit down, Daisy.’
‘He’s not dead?’
‘No, my dear. A large motorcar came the night before last, very late. I was on the church roof but it was still quite light, you know, and I saw it. Two men went into the building and later they came out with poor Mr Fischer.’
Daisy’s world was turning upside down. ‘But why? Who took him away? Were they policemen?’
Mr Tiverton patted her hand. ‘I don’t know, my dear. They were plainly dressed and Mr Fischer did not seem frightened or concerned. You must know that all aliens have been rounded up, especially Germans. Frankly, I’m surprised that he was here so long.’
‘Where have they sent him?’
‘I have no idea where he is, Daisy. Many aliens have been put into camps, some have been sent away, even as far as Australia. But many have been questioned and allowed to return home – to their home here, that is, not the country from which they originally came.’
‘Or fled.’
‘Indeed. Or fled.’
‘When will we know?’
‘Oh, Daisy, I know so little. Perhaps someone will inform his landlady; perhaps she has already been told.’
But a very angry Mrs Porter had heard nothing and was extremely annoyed. ‘Best lodger I ever had. Near fifteen years he’s been with me, causes no trouble, reads ’is books, ever such fat ones, listens
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