THE JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Alice's heart beat strangely. It was like a dream. "Where is your mother?" she asked. Even her voice felt funny. "Her drownded." The little boy stepped forward, remembering.     Josie wondered why Alice did not have more sensitivity. Then the girl came and held her brother's hand. "The teacher said she went to heaven, but she didn't - just down, down in the sea."     "Wait," commanded Alice, glancing round. "Here is a bench. Sit down, I will come back. You can listen to the birds here. No fighting or bangs.     She went back through the hospital doors, amazed. There must be a God, she thought. Those two children, so dark, so like her new friend who talked endlessly of the lost husband and children and who stared, sadly out of the window, remembering.     Inside the hospital, Anemone suddenly saw the two small children dancing in among the trees, spinning around in the sunshine.      "C...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     The Catholic priest had loaned them his small car. Carefully the family helped him lift the vehicle off the blocks where it had been "for the duration." As a grocer, Patrick had a small amount of petrol. He hoped it would be enough. They set off early.     Alice was watching from the hospital lounge window. As soon as light dawned, even a little before, she had been there. Until then she had not realised how much she had missed her family.     Soon they came chugging round the corner. The small car spluttered, jerked and banged a few times. Apparently it had a personality all its own. Adults and small children poured out. As quick as she could, Alice was out in the cool, fresh air, hugging her strong dad and her beautifil mum, her lovely brother, a stray neighbour who for some reason was clutching a kitten.      And two children? Alice stared at them, assessing. Something tore at her. She saw the boy with...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Patrick was tamping down what passed as tobacco these days. For as long as Thomas could remember, his dad had smoked a pipe every day, but only in the evenings and usually outside on an old back door chair unless the weather was really bad.     He struck a match on the side of his shoe. Thomas watched it flare as he had when he was small, mesmerised by the tiny dancing flame. The "tobacco" glowed and the older man drew on the pipe, grimacing slightly. Silently, Thomas resolved to buy him some decent tobacco when he could.     "About my dream, dad?" he prompted. "God does not change the past to suit our people's wishes," Patrick began. "I have really prayed about this and feel God's heart was touched by your compassion for this wounded mother..,.." He paused.      "And," said Thomas.     "I think God allowed you to see that she may have been rescued but you must pray also!"     "Are...

THE JOURNEY By Tessa Harvey     Finally Thomas reached the edge of his small town. It was drizzling with rain, the earlier lovely weather quite gone. It was dispiriting. The streets were crumbled with potholes. The smoke died down in the town but it smelt terrible now, stifling. It all looked like parts of France and he suspected, like a good deal of Europe. Why this town? He remembered cycling here with his mates   down the narrow streets. Some houses looked familiar, others partly broken and sad. There were earlier memories of climbing metal lampposts to attach rope swings, swinging along with his parents holding his arms between them, laughing and giggling.     Where were his family? His mates?     Exhausted, limping badly now, Thomas sat on a broken wall. Then he saw two small kids racing towards him, shouting his name with great glee! Josha and Jenna!! And behind them, his parents - slower, tired, but so, so happy to see him.     He felt...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     It was a beautiful day as Thomas walked along, grateful for yesterday's tasty chicken broth and the cheese sandwich and water bottle he had kept for today. He heard larks singing high in the sky, such an inspiring sound, liquid music.     A flower caught his eye. The young man was amazed. It was a small yellow globe flower shining in the grass, a buttercup but curled around. He thought of all the strife involving so many in the world and prayed. He was on sick leave, but would have to return in a few weeks to the war.     That night he had strange dreams. He dreamed that his parents were once again in that small life-raft. In his dream he saw them asleep, battered, wounded, weakened by their ordeal. A woman, dark-featured with long black hair was towing two small children. With the desperate strength of a mother, she pushed the larger child into the raft, who then helped her mum with the little one. The woman cried for ...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Dressed in his army uniform, Thomas had almost always been greeted with warmth, a welcome of war-time bread and whatever else could be spared and very weak tea or water to drink.     One woman had opened the door eagerly, but she saw it was not her son and tears had come into her eyes. Sad for her, Thomas turned away, but she saw his limp, his thinness and his bone-weary features and called him in.     One of their chickens had died and the nourishing broth had given them both new life. As always he helped with some chores.     Their chaplain had preached the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the men of war. John turned away, scoffing, but it meant hope to Thomas. The chaplain had given them a copy of two psalms. He gave her, the lonely woman, a copy of Psalm 23 about the Good Shepherd. Her name was Fiona and she took it gladly. Long forgotten, it had been her parents' favourite psalm.     Thomas knew it now...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky as Alice and her new friend walked over the fields. Wheat and barley were shooting up, rustling softly in a light wind. Would the harvest be brought home, she wondered, remembering the smoke and reddish glow she had seen across the Channel. God had given humans free will.     It seemed those who bowed to an evil wind as one seemed to prosper. Others who fought willingly against tyranny seemed to be losing. Had her brother made it "back to Blighty?" she wondered sadly.     Even if I can only find a small rowboat, I will go home and fight. I will not give in. And she plodded determinedly onwards toward the coast.      -----------------------------------------------     Marie hurried to keep up with Josie. Her mind felt bruised as well as her body. She was limping slightly, but gamely carried the little boy when it was her turn. They only had a couple o...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     John-Paul looked tired and a little defeated. He sighed heavily and speaking in a normal quiet voice with a French accent explained the tandem did not belong solely to himself. He needed to hide it safely and, slightly embarrassed asked her not to watch.     Alice turned away. She was no heroine and what she knew could easily be forced from her, perhaps emperilling other lives. He returned after a while.     A young maid in the colonel's household, Lotte, had slipped her some food in a paper bag just before Alice left the house.     Now she shared the nourishing cheese and egg sandwiches with her companion. He produced a bottle of water.     He had been unable to hide from the German colonel, but the man barely noticed him, driving fast and somewhat erratically.     Alice explained how the officer had helped her, but then had felt a sudden urgency for his own family.     "He is in...

THE JOURNEY By Tessa Harvey     Despite her precarious situation and wobbling on a damaged bicycle, her worries seemed to drift away like the hairpins loosened from her dark curly hair. She shook her hair free in the wind of their passing and laughed aloud for the first time in many months! John-Paul half-turned and smiled. "Sure and it's a lovely day altogether, so it is!" His Irish lilt made Alice laugh again.          "Hand yer wist!" he exclaimed, this time in a Scottish brogue. "Canny now, ye ken."     Alice realised he was asking her to be quiet. She abruptly sobered. The word would soon be out and she was in peril. The man pedalling the tandem felt sad, but they were not free. Not at all. He paused suddenly, certain he had heard vehicles.     Only Germans travelled freely in motor cars and or motorbikes.     "Stop," he whispered, harshly. "We need to hide." They wheeled the tandem off the road and hid behind a ruine...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Hope danced a bright tune in Josie's mind. Mindful where she was treading, she hurried to the row of dustbins. The enemy planes were veering away, probably low on fuel and the intensity of noisy bombing eased.     "Josha, Jenna!" she called, it's me, Josie. Please answer." One of the bins shivered violently. She heard bangs but no voices. Quickly she ran to steady the rocking bin and eased away the lid. Two frightened faces looked up. Jenna was clutching a tiny kitten. Josie hugged the trembling children.     "Marie," she called, "here's Kitty!" The neighbour hurried over to the little creature, a small shine of happiness in a dark place.      "I saw your husband looking up and heading to the factory to sell some groceries cheap. Mind if I tag along? If the little girl holds Kitty, we could carry your boy turn and turn about?"     Josie was grateful for the help. The factory was nearby. Was Patr...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Gratefully Josie gulped down a glass of lemonade, then explained to the elderly man she had to find her family. He looked so sad at losing her company in what had become a terror-filled situation.     "I will come back and visit with my family soon," she offered. He looked delighted, shuffling off, happily with her empty glass, then closing the door firmly behind Josie.     Outside was terrible. As fast as the fire-fighters doused one blaze, another flared. Men and women, some with sniffer dogs were scrabbling at rubble with bare hands, calling desperately for loved ones.     A disheveled lady, grey-haired with dust, clutched a small bundle. "Seen a cat, dearie?" she asked, forlornly. "My children will be sad if she ain't here. No home, even now." She was crying, tears tracking down her dirty face.     Josie paused. "I will look," she promised. "What's her name?" "Kitty," her friend ans...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Alice shut her eyes against the sun's glare. She felt disorientated and confused. Suddenly a voice yelled in English "Get outter the way!" A bike was heading straight for her. A man was waving frantically with one hand, trying to steer with the other.     He crashed spectacularly. A jangle of tangled metal, cry of pain and some words in several different languages that Alice thought she probably ought not to know. She untangled herself from a broom bush in the hedgerow and bent to help the 'Flying Cyclist'. "Brakes worn out. Sorry. Hard to get parts. War on, don't you know!"     He looked at her. "You are English, aren't you? Tell by the clothes." His face was scratched and grimy. He looked tired, worn out and wore a clerical collar.     With a smile, he rubbed one hand on hid jacket, then held it out. "Name's John Paul." "I'm Alice," she said, "are you okay?"     ...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     "Ach du liebe Zeit!" exclaimed the colonel. Overwhelmed with fatigue, Alice had fallen asleep.     They had stopped at the crest of a steep hill. In front of them far down the incline she could see the stretch of glittering sea. But why had this man cried out in such astonishment?          Shading her eyes Alice peered across the Channel. It was a very clear day. She could easily see the white cliffs of Dover. But wait! Tiny planes soared over a small coastal area. Flames were leaping skywards from buildings and dots of arching flames shot up from coastal defences.     "It's my town!" she said, horrified, recognising local hilly contours. "But why?"     "I must go," declared the colonel decisively. "I will take you to the bottom of this hill. My family will need me. And my country," he added as though a reluctant duty.     So Alice was left by the roadside several miles from ...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     An hour later they were driving through the small local town. Alice did not turn to look for any of the loyal French. She knew better.     She was very sad also not to be able to say goodbye to the children of whom she had grown fond.     After they had passed any signs of habitation, the colonel took a side road which was little more than a dirt track.     Alice was alarmed. "Don't worry. I need to talk to you. Please listen carefully. You have worked hard with the children. Thank you. They will miss you. Orders are coming down from Herr Hitler. Any foreign visitors, especially British ones are to be arrested and sent to the nearest German city to be tried as spies. There will be no reprieve."      He stopped his car and looked at Alice. The young woman was confused, her mind a jumble of mixed emotions. She tried to speak but there were no words.      Colonel Jager started the ve...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     She barely recognised the harsh voice of the colonel outside her door. "Come to my study as soon as possible, Fraulein." Then he marched away - actually marched in his own house. Alice clicked her heels together in defiance, and then saluted the British way! It was childish but her head ached and she was tired and worried about her brother.     The study door was ajar. Alice knocked lightly. "Come in, please!" The officer was working at his desk and affected not to notice her. Annoyed and feeling ill, the young woman deliberately sighed audibly and sat down unbidden.     Colonel Jager looked up. He opened a drawer in his desk, found an envelope and held it out.     "Here are your wages. Your employment is terminated. Pack your things. "In one hour," - he made a point of looking at the clock on his wall -"I will drive you to the train station. That is all. You are dismissed."     "But...." stammered...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Josie hadn't a clue how to pray. She had memorised "The Lord's Prayer" at primary school, so she said the words with much more feeling than she had as a child. Then she cried out "God help me and my family, and the hospital in town and all the people," just as the wall shivered and swayed and slowly began to topple. Screaming, she scuttled sideways like an ungainly crab and landed with a thump in someone's doorway.     Miraculously (she hoped) the door opened, she was dragged inside, someone heaved her out of the way and locked her in. The man, peering short-sightedly down at her did not look like an evil murderer. He was elderly, unsteady and shaking with fear. "No water, no heat, no gas," he mumbled. "Got milk or lemonade, miss, if you like?"     Josie nodded, bemused. It all felt so unreal. Her neighbour was minding the little ones, but there was nothing she could do except pray.     In Paris her da...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Exactly why the attack occurred   was later debated. It was obviously a mistake. The town was small. The "mistake" was a terrible and deadly reality. Most of the people reacted swiftly as they became aware they were the target.     The Anti-Aircraft guns (Ack Ack guns) were few here, but manned with courage and determination. Men, women and children hurried to their garden Anderson shelters as the warning sirens wailed. "Moaning minnies" they were called.      The small clothing factory had strong basement shelters. Some people had cellars. Others were caught in the open, queuing for groceries at the grocer's or meat at the butcher's, just as Josie was doing that day.     Devastation rained down a lethal storm of explosions. Masonry was flung into the air and fires were ignited by the bombs themselves. Josie huddled near the base of a huge brick wall, the only shelter she could reach.     ...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     The war had affected the small town   where Patrick and Josie lived with the little rescued children, Josha and Jenna.     Terrible stories about what was happening to all who stood against Hitler and to those he deemed "unworthy of life".....Gypsies, Christians and mostly Jewish people. But neither adult spoke of the children's heritage because antisemitism was alive and well, an ancient hatred - even here.     Some children had been sent to the country to be kept safe. Many had not been treated well - made to work too hard on farms and in shops. Many children did not like the country and eventually came home. All adults who could worked for the war effort, perhaps on the land - The Land Army - or in the army services for women.     There was a small clothing factory employing many nearby. Most families had someone serving overseas or at home in essential occupations.     Planes flew over, ret...

THE JOURNEY  By Tessa Harvey     Patrick and Josie were working hard in their grocer's shop. It was difficult keeping up with rationing requirements. They often heard the expression "Well, there's a war on, you know!"     Their ordeal in the ocean still bothered them at times but the children, Josha and Jenna were a delight. Both were at school now.     A letter had arrived that week from their daughter Alice, finally giving them an address for correspondence. She wrote about some children she was schooling, but it all sounded vague to both Patrick and Josie.     They felt there was a great deal left unsaid, but then they had not felt to share much about the two small children.     Patrick had tried to trace any relatives, but Jenna and Josha could remember nothing except a few details about their mother. The shipping authorities could offer them only the surname of Isabel Cohen. No other details.     Then the army phoned....