Cousins at War Read Online Free Page A

off and were running to shelter in a shop at the other side of the street.
    In a minute or so, the man at her back shouted, ‘Look! The Spitfires are efter him.’ Feeling safer now that the German pilot’s attention was fully occupied in trying to save
his own skin, they stood up to watch, and people came running out of shops and offices to see the toy-like planes darting back and forth beside the bomber, forcing it away from the area, an area
congested with people in the busy lunch hour.
    A great, triumphant shout arose from massed throats. ‘He’s going down! He’s down! They’ve got him!’
    The whole incident had taken less than five minutes, but it was something that Patsy – and all the other people there – would never forget, and when the quiet voice spoke beside her,
she was startled. ‘I hope you werena hurt when I shoved you, but you coulda been killed, you ken.’
    Turning round, she saw him for the first time – a slight, short, oldish man with glasses, in white overalls splattered with all the colours of the rainbow. A painter, she thought, in wry
amusement. She’d been saved from death by a painter. ‘I didn’t really take in what was going on, and I’m glad you pushed me down. Thanks very much.’
    He grinned at her. ‘Nae bother, lassie. Now, are you sure you’re OK? Hiv you far to go?’
    ‘Just along there a wee bit, at the other side.’
    ‘So long, then, it’s been nice meetin’ you.’ Tipping his cloth cap, he walked away, whistling.
    She had to smile at his matter-of-factness after the drama they had witnessed, but she dusted down her skirt with her hands before finishing her journey, her wobbling legs soon regaining
strength. The other watchers dispersed, too, still talking excitedly – as they would for years to come to those who would listen – about their hair-raising experience.
    When she heard the noise of bombs exploding, fortunately not too close, Hetty Potter’s first concern was for her husband, who worked in the centre of town. Her children
had gone on a picnic to Hazlehead Park on the outskirts of town, and would be well away from any enemy activity – or so she believed.
    Raymond was barely inside the house when he burst out, ‘Me and Olive had to dodge among the trees at Hazlehead or else we’d have been machine-gunned.’
    ‘Oh, God!’ Hetty gasped, then looked sceptical. ‘It’s not true. You’re just trying to give me a fright.’
    ‘It is true, Mum,’ Olive said quietly, ‘and when we were coming home on the tram, we heard men telling the conductor that they worked in the nurseries at Pinewood, and they had
to jump over a dyke to save themselves.’
    The Pinewood nurseries, where young trees and shrubs were cultivated for selling, were situated just behind the Park, so Hetty realised that her children were telling the truth, and she sat down
with a thump, her face chalk-white. ‘You should have come home right away. I thought you were safe, but . . .’ She wrung her hands in agitation.
    ‘Mum, we’re OK,’ Olive assured her, ‘and it was all over in a few minutes.’
    Raymond grinned. ‘It was kind of exciting while it lasted though, and I don’t think he was aiming at us anyway.’
    On tenterhooks until Martin came home, Hetty flew into his arms as soon as he appeared. ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘I’m fine,’ he assured her, ‘but a lot of men were killed at Hall Russell’s. The boiler room got a direct hit. I’d an appointment to see one of the directors
at four, to explain some of the legal jargon on a contract they have from the War Ministry for some naval boats, and I didn’t know they’d been bombed. When I got there it was absolute
pandemonium.’
    Hetty was silent for a moment, then she whispered, ‘What if you’d had to go in the forenoon? You’d have been there at the time the bombs fell.’
    ‘But I wasn’t, thank God.’
    Raymond, who had been waiting in suppressed excitement to tell of his lucky escape, took