A Horse Called Hero Read Free

again: ‘The Colonel said . . .’
    Dora’s next words were an indecipherable, urgent hissing, then there was silence, then both of them were suddenly whispering at each other at the same time, their voices rising.
    ‘That can’t be true . . .’
    ‘. . . all back – that is, the ones that . . .’
    ‘The Captain’d never do . . .’
    ‘The Colonel says . . .’
    ‘Are you sure . . . ?’
    ‘You’ve got to face it . . . wouldn’t dare show his face even if . . .’
    When Spud spoke again, her voice was unusually meek. ‘I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow . . .’
    Dodo clenched Wolfie’s hand.
    The wireless was turned up for the 9 p.m. bulletin and they heard the reassuring growl of the Prime Minister, heard him say that Britain would ‘fight on, if necessary for years, if
necessary alone’.
    Suddenly an air-raid siren sounded, abrupt and chilling. Dodo leaped up and pushed the door open. They burst in and threw themselves into Spud and Dora’s ungainly heap under the kitchen
table.
    There was a roaring, another roaring, then a menacing screech, a second screech and a third, all at the same time – the air was bursting with roaring and screeching until Wolfie’s
teeth were rattling, his limbs shaking. He squeezed himself against Dodo. The shriek grew louder and louder like an approaching train. He felt Spud’s shivering, the bulk of her wobbling like
a jelly, the fabric of her skirt shivering like a sail against his bare feet. He scrunched his eyes tight, clenched his legs to his chest but couldn’t stop the image of a train rushing
directly at him, straight at his head, couldn’t stop the bomb that was coming straight at his stomach. One hand gripped a chair leg, the other a fistful of Dodo’s flannel
nightdress.
    After what seemed a long while, the bomb fell far away, in a distant plop.
    The single continuous note of the All Clear sounded. Spud recovered herself and began to disentangle her lower quarters from the table legs.
    ‘Clapham,’ she said with satisfaction, then began to chide the children for not being in bed.
    ‘That was the sound of human beings trying to kill other human beings,’ whispered Dodo almost silently. She had a good memory for words and that was something Pa had once said.
    Dora was buttoning her coat. From the doorway she gave Spud a significant look.
    ‘I told you, safer out of London . . .’
    Dodo turned to Spud, mouth half open, but Spud intercepted her.
    ‘Bed,’ she said abruptly.
    Next morning, Spud steamed to and fro and up and downstairs with clothes and coats. When she paused for tea, she picked up two leaflets that had slipped through the letter box
on to the mat.
    If the Invader comes
, Spud read,
the order is Stay Put. Do not believe rumours. Keep watch. Do not give the Germans anything
. She put it down in disgust. Dodo sat silently at
the window looking out. Spud picked up the second pamphlet and read:
Parents warned: Bomb Risk Near. Keep off the streets as much as possible.
    This gave Spud greater satisfaction, which she denoted with a large harrumph. Loaded with fresh ballast, she picked up a basket and steered towards the laundry room.
    ‘I’ve no choice,’ she said, her back turned. ‘Even your school’s been closed.’
    She emerged, tank-like, with a basket of freshly ironed laundry. Wolfie pursued her into the nursery, where she was berthing, with the basket.
    ‘But we can’t’, he said furiously, ‘not till Pa comes home.’
    ‘You’ll be needing sensible clothes.’
    ‘We’re not going.’
    ‘I’ll take you on a special outing this afternoon.’
    ‘I don’t want to go on a special outing,’ replied Wolfie.
    Spud heaved a suitcase down from the top of a cupboard, and said, puffing, ‘We’ll go to the Army and Navy stores.’
    ‘I don’t want—’
    ‘We’ll go to Harrods.’
    Spud went back into the dining room. ‘Dorothy, it’s all arranged. You and Wolfie are to leave tomorrow.’
    Dodo, still at the window,