A Horse Called Hero Read Free Page B

the mantel, picked up Pa’s
photograph and slipped it into her bag.
    They travelled to Paddington by taxicab.
    ‘Can’t get closer’n this,’ grumbled the driver, peering down the crowded street. He pulled up on Praed Street. ‘You’ll ’ave to walk from
here.’
    Wolfie was gawping at a long crocodile of children of all sizes, all with regulation brown rucksacks, with gas masks in cardboard boxes round their necks and brown paper ration bags in their
hands.
    ‘You see?’ said Spud, disembarking. ‘Everyone’s going. Not just you.’ She took them by the hand and they joined the continuous stream of children and teachers that
crossed the footbridge on to the main line platform.
    ‘Barnstaple, Platform Five,’ she read from the announcement board, then forged a passage through the crowds of soldiers, children and mothers to the gate. Soldiers and children
swarmed along the platform. Row after row of seats were taken. Carriage after carriage was filled with forlorn, silent children.
    ‘Why are the soldiers coming?’ Wolfie’s gas mask bumped his hip as he struggled to keep up with Spud’s determined stride. A calm voice was issuing a series of admonitions
over a loudspeaker:
    ‘
Hello, children. Please take your seats. The train leaves in a few minutes. Don’t play with the doors and windows. Thank you.
’
    Spud stopped and opened the door to the final compartment. She placed the suitcases in the corridor, beside a small tear-streaked girl clutching a yellow bucket and spade. ‘Sit on your
cases,’ she said, slipping a chocolate Slam Bar, probably from her own ration, into each of their pockets, then whispering to Dodo, ‘Stay together. Don’t let go. Don’t let
them separate you.’
    Dodo was silent. Spud was eager to send them away. Hurt burned like a fire in her swollen, glimmering eyes.
    ‘Why are some mummies crying?’ asked Wolfie.
    ‘Because they can’t go on holiday too,’ said Spud, disentangling Wolfie’s hand from her own and placing him in the carriage.
    Dodo allowed Spud a perfunctory hug, but averted her cheek from a kiss. She climbed in beside Wolfie and sat with her head bowed. Spud shut the door, her plump hand trembling on the metal bar as
she pulled the window down.
    The train pulled out, and there was Spud, running and panting, breathlessly waving a piece of paper in her one hand.
    ‘Oh, Lord!’ said Dodo. ‘That’s the paper with the name – with where we’re going . . .’

PART II
NORTH DEVON

Chapter Four
    After five minutes Wolfie asked, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’
    After ten minutes, he unwrapped his Slam Bar.
    ‘It’s very far away,’ he said through a mouthful of chocolate.
    ‘Are we at the seaside?’ asked the girl with the yellow bucket. ‘
Where’s
the seaside?’
    A lady with a clipboard picked her way down the carriage, checking her list. She bent to talk to the girl with the yellow bucket, then turned to Dodo.
    ‘Names?’
    ‘Wolfgang and Dorothy Revel.’
    She scanned her list, tapping it with her pen as she moved from page to page. ‘You’re not down here,’ she said eventually, examining Wolfie’s label. ‘Who’s
looking after you?’
    ‘Dodo is,’ said Wolfie comfortably. The lady looked at Dodo sceptically.
    ‘We’re on a private scheme,’ Dodo said, ‘we’re going to be met at Dulverton.’
    The lady made a note and moved on.
    ‘Spud’s not very good at arrangements,’ Wolfie commented.
    ‘Are we nearly there yet?’ asked Wolfie later. He held Captain in a sticky fist, clutching him like a talisman, at the same time eyeing the pair of soldiers that
lounged against the window, hemmed in by stacks of kitbags in the corner of the corridor. ‘Why is the war coming on the train?’ he began, turning to Dodo, but seeing the sadness of her
face, he took her hand and added, ‘There’ll be horses, Dodo.’ Then, ‘They’ll find Pa. Pa wouldn’t go missing. Definitely.’
    It grew hot and fuggy. Morning turned to