Under the Apple Tree Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘Oh, I know what they say, I know what they tell
    us, and I’m just an ordinary person who doesn’t know
    anything about these things - but I just can’t see the sense of it all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I know we’re not
    supposed to talk like this, but I’ve just had enough of it all
    today, that’s all.’
    ‘You need a cup of tea.’ Judy got up, but her grandmother
    put out a hand.
    ‘There’s no gas, love. The mains got fractured, see, and
    they turned it off because of the danger. That’s why we’ve
    got the kettle on the fire.’
    Judy sank back. ‘No gas and no electricity. It’s the same
    all over the city, I suppose. It’s a good thing we’ve got some
    coal.’ A thought struck her. ‘Here, what about ,mr coal?
    From - from home? Hadn’t we better get that over here?’
    ‘We’ve done it, love,’ her father said. ‘Been going
    backwards and forwards all day with my old barrow. Had to
    leave one of us on guard, too. There’s people swarming all
    over the place, looking for anything they can pick up. Not
    that there was much to find in our place,’ he added ruefully.
    Judy stared at him. ‘You mean they were stealing things?’
    ‘Well, they wasn’t offering to pay for them! There’s
    always people out for easy pickings, no matter what’s
    happened.’
    She nodded. ‘I know. The shops have all got soldiers
    standing outside them because of looters, but I never
    thought they’d take stuff from people who’d been bombed out. That’s awful.’
    ‘It’s all awful,’ Polly said, ‘but sitting here telling each
    other about it won’t make it any better. Now look, I know
    we’d all like something hot but we can’t, and that’s all there
    is to it — but we can make a few sandwiches. There’s plenty
    of marge and fish paste and some of that blackberry and
    apple jam Mum made in the autumn, and you’ll never guess
    what else I found in a tin in the cupboard.’
    ‘What?’ Judy asked obediently, and her aunt gave a little
    crow of triumph.
    ‘Christmas cake, that’s what! Keeping it for Easter, your
    Gran was, but I reckon we need it more now. We can all
    have a really good slice, and thumb our noses at Hitler while
    we eat it!’
    Judy laughed and after a moment or two the others joined in.
    Their laughter was a little shaky, and sounded dangerously
    close to crying, but somehow they all felt better for it, and as Dick stoked up the fire and the kettle boiled and Polly began to cut bread, and the Christmas cake was sliced up and handed
    round, the little gathering began to seem almost like a party.
    ‘I reckon we ought to play a few games,’ Judy said. ‘Or
    sing some songs. Cheer ourselves up a bit. Just in case
    there’s any Fifth Columnists listening down the chimney.
    We don’t want them reporting back to Hitler that we’re
    downhearted, do we?’
    They ate their sandwiches and cake, then did as she had
    suggested. But as their voices rose in a wavering rendition of
    ‘Roll Out the Barrel’ and ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’,
    they were each still thinking of the devastation outside, and
    of the people who were homeless tonight, or who had been
    killed or injured. They were each thinking of Kathy
    Simmons and her baby boy, of the two little girls who had
    lost their mother, and of all those others up and down the
    country who had had their lives shattered.
    Later on, when everyone else had gone to bed - Cissie
     
    and Dick upstairs to the front bedroom, Polly to the back
    room she would share with Judy, and her grandmother Alice
    to the front room downstairs — Judy sat by the dying fire
    and tried to write a letter to her fiance, Sean.
    It seemed so long since she had seen him, so long since
    the night last May when they’d got engaged, only three
    weeks after they’d met at a dance on South Parade Pier.
    Dick and Cissie hadn’t been at all keen on such a hasty
    courtship, but Judy was twenty-two, so they couldn’t very
    well say no.