mummy here?’ Rosie asked.
Agnes shook her head. ‘She’s at work.’
‘What about Justin?’
Agnes nodded. ‘He’s sleeping.’
‘Can I speak to him?’
‘Is it important? He gets really cross if we wake him up.’
Rosie had thought Justin might be asleep. She’d even considered dropping by later, but was keen to make progress. Agnes led her up mildewing wooden stairs, beneath the gaping hole in the roof and into a small musty room. The window was blacked out and Justin was curled up on a straw-filled mat, snoring gently.
The arm and leg poking from Justin’s rough blanket were bruised from carrying coal and in this state he seemed more childlike than the cocky lad she’d met on the coal train.
‘Are you going to wake him?’ Rosie asked.
Agnes backed up to the doorway and shook her head warily. ‘I’d rather you did it. He might bash me.’
A big cockroach scuttled out of the way as Rosie crouched down and gently rocked Justin’s shoulder.
‘Bloody hell,’ he moaned, as he rolled over. ‘What?’
There was a smell of earth and feet, but Justin was young enough for Rosie to feel slightly maternal about his boyish blue eyes and scrambled hair.
‘Do you want coal?’ he said irritably, as he glowered at Agnes. ‘Why can’t she do it?’
‘It’s the girl you brought on the train, stupid,’ Agnes snapped back. ‘She asked to talk to you.’
Justin did several long blinks and rubbed glue out of his eye before apparently recognising Rosie. ‘You look really different,’ he said. ‘How’s your friend now?’
‘Fingers crossed,’ Rosie said, ‘she seems to be getting better.’
‘Great,’ Justin said. ‘What’s so important that you had to wake me up?’
Rosie looked at Agnes, ‘In private, if you don’t mind.’
Agnes looked put out, but a stern look from Justin sent her stomping back down the stairs.
‘You don’t look too great,’ Rosie said. ‘Are you sick?’
‘I’m always knackered,’ Justin said. ‘My mum earns next to nothing, and the coal train runs seven days a week, so I work it seven days a week. And even when I’m asleep, I get woken up by the girls. Or by someone wanting coal.’
Rosie felt even guiltier about waking Justin when he sat up, revealing a big red welt that ran from his upper arm and across his chest.
‘Railway cops,’ he explained, as he grabbed a grubby shirt off the floor. ‘Two nights ago. And the bastards stole my whole night’s coal.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Rosie said, then she began to explain about the bunker in the woods and how she needed to get close to it and take photographs. For security, she didn’t mention Dr Blanc’s role or the notebook. She just said that her boss in the resistance had asked her to get information.
By this time Justin had woken up enough for some of his cockiness to return. He scratched his chin with black fingernails before speaking.
‘What’s in it for me?’
Rosie smiled. ‘It’s for France. You said you hated the Boche when you met me on the train the other night.’
Justin shrugged. ‘I don’t much like ’em. If the Brits and Yanks sweep into town tomorrow, what difference will it make to me?’
‘Didn’t you say your dad was a prisoner? You’d be better off with him at home, wouldn’t you?’
Justin shrugged. ‘He’s a drunk.’
Rosie realised concepts like freedom and patriotism didn’t mean much to a ten-year-old who spent his life picking up coal scraps to earn enough money to keep his family from going hungry. But Rosie had money and resistance leaders like Eugene and Maxine paid people for their work.
‘How much do you earn selling coal on a good night? Whatever it is, I’ll pay you the same whenever you work for me. And I can get you some treats. I bought chocolate with me from Paris.’
Justin raised one eyebrow. ‘I’ll cop another beating if I’m caught on the train. What will I get if I’m caught helping the resistance? And what will they do to my
Agnes shook her head. ‘She’s at work.’
‘What about Justin?’
Agnes nodded. ‘He’s sleeping.’
‘Can I speak to him?’
‘Is it important? He gets really cross if we wake him up.’
Rosie had thought Justin might be asleep. She’d even considered dropping by later, but was keen to make progress. Agnes led her up mildewing wooden stairs, beneath the gaping hole in the roof and into a small musty room. The window was blacked out and Justin was curled up on a straw-filled mat, snoring gently.
The arm and leg poking from Justin’s rough blanket were bruised from carrying coal and in this state he seemed more childlike than the cocky lad she’d met on the coal train.
‘Are you going to wake him?’ Rosie asked.
Agnes backed up to the doorway and shook her head warily. ‘I’d rather you did it. He might bash me.’
A big cockroach scuttled out of the way as Rosie crouched down and gently rocked Justin’s shoulder.
‘Bloody hell,’ he moaned, as he rolled over. ‘What?’
There was a smell of earth and feet, but Justin was young enough for Rosie to feel slightly maternal about his boyish blue eyes and scrambled hair.
‘Do you want coal?’ he said irritably, as he glowered at Agnes. ‘Why can’t she do it?’
‘It’s the girl you brought on the train, stupid,’ Agnes snapped back. ‘She asked to talk to you.’
Justin did several long blinks and rubbed glue out of his eye before apparently recognising Rosie. ‘You look really different,’ he said. ‘How’s your friend now?’
‘Fingers crossed,’ Rosie said, ‘she seems to be getting better.’
‘Great,’ Justin said. ‘What’s so important that you had to wake me up?’
Rosie looked at Agnes, ‘In private, if you don’t mind.’
Agnes looked put out, but a stern look from Justin sent her stomping back down the stairs.
‘You don’t look too great,’ Rosie said. ‘Are you sick?’
‘I’m always knackered,’ Justin said. ‘My mum earns next to nothing, and the coal train runs seven days a week, so I work it seven days a week. And even when I’m asleep, I get woken up by the girls. Or by someone wanting coal.’
Rosie felt even guiltier about waking Justin when he sat up, revealing a big red welt that ran from his upper arm and across his chest.
‘Railway cops,’ he explained, as he grabbed a grubby shirt off the floor. ‘Two nights ago. And the bastards stole my whole night’s coal.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Rosie said, then she began to explain about the bunker in the woods and how she needed to get close to it and take photographs. For security, she didn’t mention Dr Blanc’s role or the notebook. She just said that her boss in the resistance had asked her to get information.
By this time Justin had woken up enough for some of his cockiness to return. He scratched his chin with black fingernails before speaking.
‘What’s in it for me?’
Rosie smiled. ‘It’s for France. You said you hated the Boche when you met me on the train the other night.’
Justin shrugged. ‘I don’t much like ’em. If the Brits and Yanks sweep into town tomorrow, what difference will it make to me?’
‘Didn’t you say your dad was a prisoner? You’d be better off with him at home, wouldn’t you?’
Justin shrugged. ‘He’s a drunk.’
Rosie realised concepts like freedom and patriotism didn’t mean much to a ten-year-old who spent his life picking up coal scraps to earn enough money to keep his family from going hungry. But Rosie had money and resistance leaders like Eugene and Maxine paid people for their work.
‘How much do you earn selling coal on a good night? Whatever it is, I’ll pay you the same whenever you work for me. And I can get you some treats. I bought chocolate with me from Paris.’
Justin raised one eyebrow. ‘I’ll cop another beating if I’m caught on the train. What will I get if I’m caught helping the resistance? And what will they do to my
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