‘Misconception’ Sample<\/p>\n
Justine woke up tucked tightly into an unfamiliar bed with an awful noise whistling around inside her skull. Her right hand slowly climbed up soft hemmed cloth and over her tiny waist feeling along a line of three buttons and a breast pocket. Eventually the fingers spidered out and tugged at the edge of a dusty candlewick bedspread. This created a small divot where she could breath more deeply and her long lashes fluttered open revealing slightly bloodshot slate grey eyes, which ventured around the room and took in the surroundings.<\/p>\n
Although the curtains were closed there was strong daylight beyond, which seeped in to vaguely illuminate a lightly furnished bedroom. Everything seemed plain, dull and painted in a magnolia monochrome. Eventually she gazed back down at her fingers to study the scraped varnish and a broken nail on her grazed hand.<\/p>\n
\u2018Marvellous,\u2019 she hissed, the \u201cM\u201d cracking her dry lips and the \u201carvelous\u201d releasing the taste of rust and sour breath. Justine lifted her head off the pillow, but the sudden movement sent flashes of vivid colour to accompany the cacophony behind her eyes as she blacked out.<\/p>\n
In what felt like just a moment, she was awoken again by the sounds of digging outside and the dulled tones of \u201cGod bless the child\u201d coming from a gramophone somewhere beneath the room. Justine took a moment to breath deeply then paused and listened to the final words, \u201cHere just don’t worry about nothing cause he’s got his own. Yes, he’s got his own\u201d. <\/em><\/p>\n The song was something familiar and she clung to the fading words. Her lover Harry had sung it badly, over and over, ever since she\u2019d given him the disk two weeks ago. Not wanting to waste another moment of what ever it was that was happening, Justine forcefully flung back the covers, swung both legs out of the bed, stood up and called out his name.<\/p>\n The popping in her nose and ears made her think of fizzy water pouring through the void as she swooned back down. It lasted for two sparkly seconds, during which, the only thing that actually passed through her head was this thought; \u2018These aren\u2019t my pyjamas.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n Ten minutes later the young girl became semi-conscious again and found herself tucked back into the bed. The digging was still there, but the music and her internal whistle had gone. Justine turned her head and opened just one eye this time, and slowly. The curtains had been drawn so that bright white light silhouetted three blurry figures burnt against a bulging oblong of sash window. On the left was a short, thin body slouched against a much taller rotund figure, which cradled the former in a long flabby arm. The third shape was wearing a hat, she was medium height, beautifully voluptuous and stood a foot or so apart from the other two. They all seemed to be facing away from the bed.<\/p>\n One of them spoke quietly, \u2018I don\u2019t think there\u2019s any long-term worry. Nothing a good meal and a bit of quiet won\u2019t cure.\u2019 Justine vaguely recognised the voice of Nurse Heather Jones, the local Doctor\u2019s younger wife. \u2018How old is she?\u2019 it continued.<\/p>\n \u2018Twenty,\u2019 the other two shapes quickly agreed. Their voices were in perfect harmony, but with opposing pitch and tempo.<\/p>\n \u2018Well she\u2019s young enough to cope with anything and old enough to know better,\u2019 the nurse stated. \u2018Get some sweet tea down her scrawny neck, then see if she\u2019ll take something more filling.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine opened her other eye and tried to get it to cooperate.<\/p>\n \u2018I got some soup on already and the tea\u2019s in the pot.\u2019 This, the sharper voice was definitely Harry\u2019s mother Margaret Clark. \u2018Have you heard owt from Doctor Jones yet?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I spoke to an ambulance driver this morning and she swore she\u2019d seen him treating the injured men coming in from Kings Hill.\u2019 Nurse Jones was clearly trying to sound confident, but there was a wobble in her tone as she added, \u2018I imagine he\u2019s still doing his job, somewhere.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018And do you honestly<\/em> think our Harry will be alright?\u2019 Margaret asked urgently as her petite shape slowly peeled away from the larger one and leaned on the window frame to look outside. \u2018I mean there are a few still missing and he was likely to be hanging around with most of them.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Oh Marge,\u2019 the unmistakeable deep voice of Fat Florence cut in. She was Margaret\u2019s neighbour and a notorious gossip. \u2018You know my old man said he\u2019d seen your Harry before the raid. He told you they were all goin\u2019 off in that scruffy old truck, away to the hills. They\u2019ll be sat up at Croft farm right now, working out how to make a few bob in salvage from all this mayhem you mark my words.\u2019 Florence quickly snapped from useful gossip mode into a more vinegar proclamation, \u2018I mean let\u2019s face it, he\u2019s gonna need a few extra pennies if Nurse Jones is right about you know what,\u2019 she turned away from the window and continued, \u2018inside of you know who.\u2019 Then she did a strange pointing motion, gesturing toward the bed by leaning her head and rubbing her pointed finger under her nose.<\/p>\n Heather followed the fingers line of fire, noticed that her patient was watching them and quickly interjected, \u2018So they\u2019re all fine then, just waiting for the roads to clear and the bridge to reopen.\u2019 The nurse approached the bed and asked tenderly, \u2018Now then little miss, can you tell me your full name?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018You know my name,\u2019 Justine said with a sideways look of confusion, \u2018It\u2019s Justine Page.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018And what year is it?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Nineteen forty bloody one,\u2019 Justine croaked out. \u2018Is there something wrong with your memory Nurse Jones?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018No, and hopefully yours is fine too,\u2019 Heather smiled. \u2018So, what were you doing out in an air raid with nowt more than a brolly and your strawberry blond Betty Grable curls to protect you?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Raid?\u2019 Justine attempted to concentrate; \u2018I don\u2019t really remember that much and it sort of hurts to think.\u2019 As her brain laboured to process again she became deeply worried about the overheard conversation. She took a long slow breath of air then exhaled and asked impatiently, \u2018what happened to all my friends, where\u2019s my Harry?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018He\u2019ll be fine.\u2019 Florence stepped closer and folded her ample arms, sending blobs of doughy bicep and bosom in every direction. She spoke excitedly and smiled like a woman who knew her own business and everyone else\u2019s too. \u2018You had quite a knock. The policeman said your umbrella must\u2019ve saved you, but he didn\u2019t know what from. Quite the mystery you are.\u2019 Florence winked theatrically at the pale girl.<\/p>\n As Justine tried to sit up again, the three onlookers dived in to help, but mostly ended up in each other\u2019s way.<\/p>\n Heather was the voice of reason, trained to disperse unnecessary bodies in useful ways. \u2018Go and get that tea Margaret and you can do what you do best Florence, find out what\u2019s happening round the town.\u2019 As Florence turned away with a broad grin, Heather cautioned her, \u2018Florence Fairchild, don\u2019t you go spreading any more rumours. I expect you to come back with real information for once and no tittle tattle.\u2019<\/p>\n By the time Florence left the room her smile had melted into a sorrowful and jowly recognition of her own weaknesses.<\/p>\n Heather put a hand on Justine\u2019s rosy cheek, soothing her while also covertly checking the skins temperature. \u2018So Miss Page, how are you feeling today?\u2019 she asked kindly.<\/p>\n \u2018Quite groggy and a bit sick if I\u2019m honest.\u2019 Justine fumbled around at the back of her head where the throbbing pains were regrouping. It felt as if someone had glued her hair up. \u2018Where is Harry?\u2019 she asked again.<\/p>\n \u2018It will get better, don\u2019t worry.\u2019 Heather moved her soft hand to poke an errant spiral of hair behind Justine\u2019s ear then continued down to the girl\u2019s slim neck and started silently counting off the beats of her pulse.<\/p>\n With a jingle of crockery Mrs Clark\u2019s slippers shuffled back in. From what Harry had told her, Justine presumed Margaret was in her late fifties. Her body paused occasionally between rapid little jolts of motion, like a nervous sparrow in a housecoat. Short greying hair, wrinkles and chewed fingernails hovered around a tray, which contained a steaming cup of tea with two plain biscuits on the saucer. There was also a small brown teapot in a colourful knitted cosy and a glass milk jug next to a huge bowl of undistinguishable beige soup.<\/p>\n Margaret smiled, \u2018Got no sugar, but there\u2019s a big blob of honey in the pot, from the farm.\u2019<\/p>\n Heather picked up the cup and saucer then ushered the rest away to a nearby nightstand.<\/p>\n \u2018Can I have a cigarette please, where\u2019s my handbag?\u2019 Justine looked around the room too quickly and little golden sparks shot across her view again, but the bubbles and ringing in her ears had almost gone now. \u2018Is Harry alright?\u2019 she persisted with more vigour this time.<\/p>\n Margaret tried to sidestep the question. \u2018You didn\u2019t have a bag dear. PC Grogan wanted to get you some things from your flat, but\u2026\u2019 Harry\u2019s mother stopped talking and looked to the nurse for assistance before adding, \u2018Your dress is washed now anyway and your, under garments.\u2019 She blushed.<\/p>\n \u2018So what bits do you recall?\u2019 Heather asked again after briefly dunking one of the biscuits and handing it over. \u2018Tell you what,\u2019 Heather waved a hand in front of Justine\u2019s blank face. \u2018If you can eat that and drink the tea, I might find a cigarette to go with the second cup.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine ate the biscuit with determined chomps then washed it down with the tea.<\/p>\n In response, Heather stood up to fish out a packet of Woodbines and some matches from her uniform\u2019s side pocket. \u2018Fresh air to start with my girl,\u2019 the nurse insisted as she placed the cigarettes on the tray then moved away.<\/p>\n In the strong light near the window the nurse looked fairly young, late twenties or early thirties with firm muscle tone on her smooth arms and legs. With a hefty tug she shuddered the glazed frame up a few inches, allowing the amplified outside noise to surge in. You could hear what the men in the street were shouting now. It was mainly deconstruction instructions, accompanied by a percussive gouging of shovels. Heather immediately decided it was probably a tad too vivid for the time being and slid the window back down with a clunk.<\/p>\n \u2018So is it coming back, what happened to you yesterday in the raid?\u2019 Margaret asked before Justine could start to quiz them about Harry again.<\/p>\n The patient pondered the question and everything that she had seen and heard since waking up. There was a whooshing feeling as jelly memories flooded back and soaked into the sponges of her brain, but without the custard and cream there was still only half a trifle.<\/p>\n \u2018I sort of remember, a fuzzy version of what happened yesterday.\u2019 Justine bit her lip then tried to sit up higher in the bed and look out beyond the nurse. \u2018I had an awful day at work, that\u2019s for sure. I was late to start with, I remember that and I was so tired. I must have fallen asleep at my desk in the afternoon. Then the sirens woke me up I think, or, or the storm. There was a big storm, right?\u2019<\/p>\n Margaret and Heather nodded together.<\/p>\n Justine concentrated on that thought, \u2018So I tried to leave, but everyone was crowding at the front of the town hall. It was raining hard and I wanted to grab my umbrella before someone else did, so I went out the back way.\u2019<\/p>\n The other two women looked at each other, questioning why raindrops would be more worrying than bombs. Margaret shrugged and raised an eyebrow to Heather then tilted her head toward the bed, confirming that she didn\u2019t understand young folks either.<\/p>\n \u2018Every time I put something down at work some sod swipes it, you see?\u2019 Justine tried to explain. \u2018Make-up, nail varnish, sunglasses, it\u2019s terrible really because these things are so hard to come by and they,\u2019 her voice trailed off as she struggled to keep on track and got distracted by the scratched paint on her nails. It was Harry who got her all these little luxuries,<\/em> she thought.<\/p>\n \u2018Yes dear, but what happened next? You were getting the umbrella, remember?\u2019 Mrs Clark had taken her turn sitting on the edge of the bed now. She passed over the second biscuit then topped up the tea.<\/p>\n \u2018I think Susan was there,\u2019 Justine closed her eyes for a second. \u2018Yes and I tried to tag along with her, down the back passage and out of council chambers. It was like a blackout, but it can\u2019t have been night. I thought we were both heading for the staff shelter outside, it\u2019s in the old records vault.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Anyway,\u2019 Nurse Jones urged.<\/p>\n \u2018Well I couldn\u2019t see very well, just brief glimpses in the flickering lights and between the lightening flashes and it just made sense to follow in Susan\u2019s footsteps, but she was moving so fast it was difficult to keep up.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Hang about, who is this Susan?\u2019 Margaret asked impatiently. \u2018One of the other girls from your office right, another typist?\u2019<\/p>\n Justine thought it through, trying to tidy the montage of information flopping back into her brain from the day before. After a few more seconds she replied, \u2018My supervisor, Mrs Hill, I found out her name is Susan.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Is it now? Well I never,\u2019 Margaret moved closer and patted the covers for Heather to sit down behind her. \u2018I knew it began with an \u201cS\u201d, but I thought it stood for sour, stuck-up or possibly, sadistic!\u2019<\/p>\n Justine blinked then carried on, \u2018When I got to the shelter, Susan had vanished. There were some girls from the typing pool and the canteen and a few clerks having a brew. All the councillors from planning were down there too, drinking brandy and playing cards. I know it was silly, but I wanted to make sure Susan was alright, so I went back up to look for her.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Back up?\u2019 Margaret asked, wide eyed.<\/p>\n \u2018Into an air raid?\u2019 Heather added. \u2018Didn\u2019t anyone try and stop you?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yes, I think so, but not with any real effort.\u2019<\/p>\n Margaret shook her head and sighed.<\/p>\n Justine passed back the cup and reached for the Woodbines. \u2018So, I went back up and things had gotten really<\/em> noisy. The sky was still so dark, thick with storm clouds, almost black.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine managed to light a match and Margaret helped her hold it steady to the tip of the cigarette. The young girl took a long drag then blew a cloud of blue smoke above the bed. It obviously made her slightly dizzy, but she soon recovered and tried to recall some more of the previous day.<\/p>\n \u2018There were little orange pom-pom explosions inside the clouds, high up, but no sun, no stars or moon. When I looked back down, I thought I saw Susan ducking around the corner, towards the street. I was stood there getting soaked, so I popped my umbrella open and called after her to come back to the shelter.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018And did she stop?\u2019 Heather asked.<\/p>\n Justine gingerly shook her head. \u2018Maybe she couldn\u2019t hear me? As I headed for the gate, there were people running and shouting in the distance, bigger explosions and bells, then…\u2019<\/p>\n Something big crashed down noisily in the street outside. The reverberations rattled the window, juddered through the floorboards and thrummed across the bed frame.<\/p>\n \u2018Go on love,\u2019 Heather insisted.<\/p>\n \u2018Well, then I woke up here, in someone else\u2019s pyjamas.\u2019 Justine pulled at the blue and white striped fabric distractedly. \u2018These aren\u2019t Harry\u2019s are they?\u2019<\/p>\n There was a long pause as if the others were hoping she would suddenly remember more.<\/p>\n Justine decided to fill the silence with a few more questions of her own. \u2018So where\u2019s Harry and all my stuff and why couldn\u2019t PC Grogan get anything from my flat?\u2019<\/p>\n Margaret didn\u2019t have all the answers and the ones she had would surely earn her a far sterner look from Nurse Jones than the one she was currently caught up in. \u2018Constable Grogan said they found you just after the raid, in a sandbagged archway near the town hall. Yer brolly was all busted up and you had no shoes on. There was a faint trail of blood in the puddles leading back to the street, but he couldn\u2019t work out what\u2019d hit you. He tied a soggy bandage from his pack around your noggin and bought you here in a car with WPC Birch. There were too many bodies up at the hospital and, well you should see the damage at Doctor Jones\u2019s surgery, it\u2019s shocking.\u2019<\/p>\n Heather cut her off, \u2018Oh Margaret it\u2019s only broken glass and plaster, which can be swept up and replaced.\u2019<\/p>\n Harry\u2019s mother dodged Heather\u2019s new glare by looking down to flatten out her pinafore.<\/p>\n \u2018Margaret washed you and I came over to patch you up properly with a stitch or two. The umbrella took the worst of it, probably saved your lives,\u2019 Heather paused abruptly; worried that she\u2019d let the cat out of the bag.<\/p>\n Justine looked confused for a moment as if she had misheard her, but blamed it on the foggy head and continued her questions regardless. \u2018How long have I been asleep?\u2019<\/p>\n Heather checked the watch hanging upside down on her uniform. \u2018They got you here late last night. Margaret says you were semi-conscious and mumbling about all sorts of nonsense. You were spark out when I arrived, so you\u2019ve been out for the count for nearly a day. It\u2019s as much to do with exhaustion and lack of nourishment as anything else my girl, that\u2019s why we let you sleep. You need some good food and rest, that\u2019s all.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine looked shocked. She had suddenly recalled something else from yesterday, a fuzzy half memory of a conversation with a town hall receptionist about meeting Harry in the bar at the Bull and Bladder tomorrow, which was now today. \u2018So what time is it?\u2019 she asked insistently.<\/p>\n Heather shrugged, \u2018Just after five.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I have to go and meet Harry at the Bull.\u2019 Justine tried to get up and out of the bed, only managing to lift herself half way, before falling back and dropping the end of the cigarette into the sheets.<\/p>\n Mrs Clark dived in, grabbing the butt before it did any real damage. When she opened the window again to get rid of it, the sash jammed half way up.<\/p>\n \u2018What is all that noise?\u2019 Justine croakily begged to know.<\/p>\n Heather held the girls hand. \u2018Look sweetheart, you do fully understand there was a lot of bombs last night don\u2019t you?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yes well, obviously. There were the sirens and the big booming bangs just before I got laid out. Was there a lot of damage, was someone hurt?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Calm down sweetheart, there have been a few, hurt<\/em> yes, but no one close to you,\u2019 Heather stroked Justine\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n \u2018Well there was old Mrs Adams, over the road,\u2019 Margaret grumbled, turning to look out at the exploded street. She watched the workmen drop their shovels and dig with bare hands like rats in rubbish. When they pulled out a small lifeless body, she added, \u2018and her dog.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018There are some very poorly folk up at the hospital, but I think we\u2019ve all been lucky,\u2019 Heather insisted reassuringly.<\/p>\n \u2018But is Harry alright, has he been hurt?\u2019 Justine pleaded.<\/p>\n \u2018We don\u2019t know luv,\u2019 Margaret turned her head away from the window. \u2018Everyone\u2019s being very kind, telling me to soldier on<\/em> and all that.\u2019 She took a moment to reflect. \u2018But I ain\u2019t seen him since he dropped off the motorbike yesterday morning and if I\u2019m honest, I am quite worried.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Margaret you know they\u2019re all going to be fine, they just haven\u2019t got back here yet, that\u2019s all.\u2019 Heather was trying to keep calm and carry on, but it wasn\u2019t as easy as it looked on paper.<\/p>\n \u2018I played a few of his records when I got sad earlier,\u2019 Margaret croaked. \u2018People keeps popping in to reassure me, but there\u2019s no sign of Minnie or any of Harry\u2019s pals.\u2019 She walked back over to the bed and shivered, trying not to let it show. \u2018So anyway, I am pretty sure they must \u2018ave stayed out of town. Probably helping out some poor souls who\u2019s worse off than us, don\u2019t you think?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Once the road blocks go we can all get back to normal, whatever that is?\u2019 Heather looked at her watch again. \u2018I must go and you should take it slow for at least another night love.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018What can I do?\u2019 Margaret asked.<\/p>\n \u2018You make sure she stays in bed. Home is the first place Harry will come, soon as he can get back into town.\u2019 Heather nodded Margaret towards the door.<\/p>\n When the women had left her alone, Justine sighed and lay back in the bed, trying to listen to the sounds of their voices as they trailed away.<\/p>\n \u2018See you later then,\u2019 Margaret said when they got to the bottom of the stairs.<\/p>\n Nurse Jones opened the door and stepped over some bricks. \u2018And don\u2019t be telling her stuff she don\u2019t need to know till she\u2019s stronger,\u2019 she waved a finger and was gone.<\/p>\n After showing Heather out, Margaret decided to go up and get the patient to at least consider eating some soup. However, when Justine spotted the congealed skin on top, she turned her head away and vomited tea and biscuits onto a rubber backed floor rug.<\/p>\n \u2018Well, I was warned that might happen,\u2019 Margaret cooed softly as she crouched down and scooped up the rugs corners to form a makeshift bowl.<\/p>\n Justine apologised between breaths then managed a second discharge of bile. \u2018Is it the concussion, only, well, I was feeling sick before?\u2019 she asked then added, \u2018Before yesterday I mean.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yes dear that\u2019s what it\u2019ll be, the concussion and because you never flipping eat enough.\u2019 The old lady lied and tried to contain the mess, bundling it up as best she could. \u2018Don\u2019t you worry dear, I\u2019ll get a cloth and probably a mop too, but you must eat something more.\u2019 She looked at the floor again then added, \u2018An maybe you should leave them cigarettes alone too, just for the time being, eh?\u2019<\/p>\n When Margaret had cleaned up properly, she offered to cook Justine the two tiny rashes of bacon and an egg she\u2019d kept back for Harry\u2019s breakfast, as an alternative to the soup. She was surprised when the girl gingerly accepted. Worried that it might bring on more mayhem, Harry\u2019s mother propped her mop in the hallway then went back down to make the sandwich and a fresh pot of tea.<\/p>\n The smell of disinfectant and cooking grew very strong, but Justine was hungrier than she\u2019d ever been and determined not to miss out this time. Alone in the room she buttoned up the top of the nightclothes, heaved at the covers and very slowly slid herself out.<\/p>\n Using the bedside table she managed to wobble upright then leaned on the wall to shuffle over to the open window. As her angle and proximity changed she noticed that several of its taped panes were cracked. At least the air there was cooler, tainted with bonfire odours, damp plaster and brick dust, but less stuffy than the old bedspread. Each lung full made her feel surprisingly better, but still feeling a little unusual, she looked for a more comfortable position. There was a wooden chair next to her, which still had a pair of Harry\u2019s oil stained work trousers folded over the back. Justine collapsed into it then leaned on the sill to take in the swaying scene outside. As her vision slurred back into a sharper reality, she was stunned.<\/p>\n It looked like a giant spade had dug up half the street then flipped over to let the bits fall back in roughly coordinated heaps. A mountain of bricks here, another made from broken furniture and windows there. Justine took a deeper breath and whispered bitterly, \u2018So this is what organised chaos looks like.\u2019<\/p>\n The corner shop which should have been to her right had gone. A whirlwind of brick and plaster had burst from inside it, folding the house next to it in half. Her own little bedsit had been in the old Post Office building next door to that. Most of it was still there, but the roof was holed in places and smoke was drifting up through the distorted walls, windows and relocated tiles. Beneath the rubble, curved ridges of displaced cobblestones fanned out from the missing corner shop like frozen ripples on a pond. It was early evening now, but there were still people scurrying around with wheelbarrows, trying to clear the carnage. Men in shirts and braces were making safe what was left of the structures while dumbstruck women and children picked through the bric-a-brac of broken belongings.<\/p>\n Opposite the Post Office, where there had been nothing to absorb the blast, it had crossed the road and hammered on the doors of several old terraced cottages. Justine hoped there had been few at home to answer, because the doors were now buried beneath the crumpled roofs and walls.<\/p>\n Justine felt sick with anger and loss, a cold finger ran down her spine as a hot flush flared in her cheeks. She slumped in the chair gripped hard on the rotting sill and mourned the defeat of this tiny corner of her little world. Times were hard and for her to start again with nothing would be near to impossible. And what of all the little treasured items she\u2019d bought from her parent\u2019s home, many miles away to the North? What was the fate of all her pictures, memories, postcards and family trinkets? Were they all gone?<\/em><\/p>\n Before there had been any particular man in Justine\u2019s life, she\u2019d started to save for what her mother had called \u201cThe bottom drawer\u201d. In reality it had began as a couple of old lemon crates under the bed. Now that she did have<\/em> a man, it seemed there would be nothing to share with him. She had no idea where he was anyway. \u2018God forbid,\u2019 she sobbed quietly, \u2018if he\u2019s even still alive?\u2019<\/p>\n So this was what war felt like for all those people in the queues at the town hall.<\/em> It had been going on for two years, yet this was the first time she had truly understood what it meant. Everything had been predictable and organised until now. The rationing, the rent and the working week, it had all felt as comfy to her as an old glove. Now that glove had come undone and hit her smack in the face. It felt awful.<\/p>\n Had she been half asleep, or half awake since war broke out? <\/em>She felt like she had somehow missed the point until now. How could anyone do this to another person? How could they have permission to remove other peoples loved ones, destroy their homes and leave everyone living with nothing to live for? <\/em><\/p>\n A feeling of guilt suddenly spread through Justine for thinking about material possessions when there had been human losses too. Watching the mothers as they witnessed their ruptured homes being pulled further apart, Justine found clarity and she felt strangely more alive. The sheets, table covers, cutlery and knick-knacks she had put in that bottom drawer <\/em>of lemon crates, <\/em>they had really meant nothing. Only one thing mattered now and that was life. She would find Harry, she would tell him that she loved him and that would somehow make everything normal again. Wouldn\u2019t it?<\/em><\/p>\n Turning away, Justine pushed out beyond the windowsill to get a better view of the other side of town. In the far distance were the hills and she hoped, somewhere amongst them were Harry and his best friend Edward up on Croft farm. She held on to the thought of Edward and his family and how happy she had been spending time with them and Harry. Between the hills and town there was a wide wooded area with two big empty clefts that lined up with the other devastation outside. She prayed that they merely marked the site of bombs dropping on trees instead of people.<\/p>\n The badly drooped roofline of the terraces opposite, allowed her a better view of the mid distance. On this side of the railway sidings there was an unusual pint sized, sandy coloured canvas backed army lorry. It was parked out by the gates of the allotments, on the nearside of the woodland. Justine could just make out a young soldier in a peaked cap standing at the truck\u2019s rear, kicking dirt. She guessed he was in charge of the four regular soldiers wandering amongst the rows of cabbages and fruit bushes nearby. Three of them wore funny little helmets with no brims; the other one had a floppy hat like a cowboy. They were all in pale desert fatigues. The tiny men stopped occasionally to search sheds and structures, looking very serious as they pointed scrawny little black machine guns inside.<\/p>\n Justine started to feel feint again and let herself slide back inside, slumping onto the chair. When she felt better she was intrigued to study her new interior surroundings in more detail, having never been in Harry\u2019s bedroom before.<\/p>\n He had very few possessions on show. Above the bed she saw a box brownie picture of herself, which was slotted into the side of a larger portrait of Harry as a boy with Mrs and the late Mr Clark. There was a stout wardrobe and matching tallboy cabinet on either side of the door. The top of the cabinet held a washbowl with some shaving kit laid out along side. A pocketknife and several books that were held upright by matching glass ornaments, sat on a simple shelf next to the window.<\/p>\n Justine got up slowly and discovered the books were a bible, a Bedford catalogue of vehicle parts and an oily manual for Harry\u2019s Brough Superior motorcycle. Hanging on a nail above the shelf there was a damp, curled and innocuous buff coloured calendar from nineteen thirty seven.<\/p>\n \u2018That\u2019s a curious thing to have kept this long,\u2019 she said to herself while reaching out to take it down.<\/p>\n At that moment Margaret returned with a fresh cup of tea and a doorstep sandwich containing a well done egg stacked between Harry\u2019s ration of rashes.<\/p>\n \u2018Did you say something luv?\u2019 Margaret asked.<\/p>\n \u2018I was just thinking out loud that\u2019s all. I found this out of date calendar.\u2019 Justine put it back on the nail, sat down again and began consuming the food like a woman possessed.<\/p>\n Margaret looked at the mop and bucket through the open doorway, but it seemed it was not needed this time.<\/p>\n Between cheek swelling mouthfuls, Justine pointed outside with the remaining corner of sandwich and asked, \u2018What are those soldiers doing? Did one of the bombs not go off?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Well there\u2019s been all sorts of rumours, even talk of a full on invasion by parachutists. The bells was a ringing for ages, bonging out across the whole blooming valley.\u2019 Margaret moved closer and leaned out of the window. \u2018Then them nice troops turned up in droves and calmed things down. They arrived last night as the storm departed an\u2019 the sun came out again for a bit, that sort of helped,\u2019 she shrugged. Then looking down at the men still working on the wrecked buildings across the street, Margaret added, \u2018The bombs had done so much damage you see, people were trapped all over and it was a race to get \u2018em out before the proper darkness came back. Those soldier boys were very helpful last night and well organised. Best of all, they\u2019re all tanned and muscular with nice teeth.\u2019 She grinned and showed her own yellowing dentures as if to make the point.<\/p>\n \u2018Have you been looking after them<\/em> Mrs Clark?\u2019 Justine asked sarcastically.<\/p>\n \u2018We had you to take our minds off of it all didn\u2019t we?\u2019 Margaret huffed.<\/p>\n Justine managed a tiny laugh at this. Mrs Clark giggled too.<\/p>\n \u2018Well I mean, not too<\/em> many people were hurt round here, considering all the damage. It could have been a lot worse couldn\u2019t it? An\u2019 the hoards of parachutists turned out to be just a handful of German flyers, bailing out after the big guns shot \u2018em down. Their bomber landed on St Mary\u2019s Chapel and by all accounts there ain\u2019t much left of that neither.\u2019 She made the sign of the cross and looked skywards<\/p>\n Justine passed back the empty plate and leaned out to look over the treetops and beyond the two points of smashed woodland. In the low hills she could just make out a small plume of smoke still drifting near the chapel\u2019s location amongst the distant forest canopy.<\/p>\n Margaret was the first to notice more soldiers heading back towards their vehicle near the allotments. At first it was just a movement near the tree line, then slowly they began to pop out into the clearing two and three at a time.<\/p>\n These soldiers had found something, or more precisely someone. As the last few figures cleared the trees you could see that one man was being held up between two squaddies. He was limping badly, dressed in black and with his hands behind his back. Several riflemen were covering him with their weapons as he struggled to keep upright.<\/p>\n \u2018Germans,\u2019 Mrs Clark gasped, but her voice was hushed as if she thought she might provoke the brute, even from this great distance.<\/p>\n The two women looked at each other and leaned out a little further to get a better view of the action. The last two men to break tree cover were carrying what could have been the remains of parachutes.<\/p>\n The peak capped officer walked over to the injured man and spoke to him. The German looked like he was thinking of an answer then he spat in the officer\u2019s face. The gesture of defiance was clear. A rifleman behind the prisoner struck out at a kidney with the butt of his gun, which chopped the dark figure down onto one knee. The man in charge was not happy about either event. While another soldier helped the German up, the officer wiped away the spittle then rebuked the rifleman who\u2019d struck out.<\/p>\n \u2018Australians,\u2019 Margaret confirmed with excitement. \u2018Bloody loads of \u2018em, an\u2019 they\u2019re everywhere now. They says we\u2019re all gonna \u2018ave to put a few of \u2018em up if they hangs around. I saw one brute out front earlier that I fancy for a lodger and no mistake. Fat Florence says one of \u2018em is a little black boy in shorts.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine looked puzzled. She took a moment to put the last few thoughts in her head back together, then turned to Margaret and said, \u2018I have to go, I need to find Harry.\u2019 It was not a request; it was a statement of fact.<\/p>\n \u2018Yes, dear I know. I was thinking downstairs and I already considered trying to stop you, because,\u2019 she shrugged smirking again. \u2018You know I\u2019ll catch hell off of Nurse Jones don\u2019t you? But, well, what can I<\/em> do to hold you back, I\u2019m just a little old lady ain\u2019t I?\u2019 She passed over the cup, \u2018I knew as you would help me find him, soon as you got some scram down your gob an\u2019 had time to collect yourself.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I do feel much better now.\u2019 Justine slurped up the drink, passed the cup back and patted at her tummy. \u2018The sleep and the sandwich really helped.\u2019<\/p>\n Mrs Clark looked down at Justine\u2019s hand with a massive grin across her face. \u2018Listen, there\u2019s summat I \u2018ave to tell you before you go.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018What, what is it?\u2019 Justine tilted her head and awaited an answer.<\/p>\n \u2018I wanted to tell you that,\u2019 in that moment Margaret saw the old family portrait on the wall and decided to wait until Harry was home before spilling the beans. \u2018I wanted to tell you that, that I\u2019ve filled you a quick bath downstairs and you\u2019re not going till you\u2019ve been in it.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine stretched and rummaged at her bloodied and tangled hair again. \u2018Alright then and I need an alternative to pyjamas.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Already run over your dress with the iron and bought it up, it\u2019s on the cupboard in the hallway, them frilly undies too. My winter boots are the only ones that\u2019ll fit you I\u2019m afraid. There\u2019s a small jacket what belonged to my old man or you can look through Harry\u2019s stuff.\u2019<\/p>\n Justine stood up, surprised and reassured that she did not feel quite so faint this time. She took Mrs Clark\u2019s hand then decided to give her an enormous kiss and a hug instead.<\/p>\n \u2018Good luck sweetheart.\u2019 Margaret said with a wobble in her voice and they both blushed<\/p>\n To escape quickly, Justine acted-out remembering the hot bath and went off to find her clothes. When she had bathed and washed her hair, the feel of the cool cotton dress sliding over her damp tummy and thighs bought back other memories. Memories of how happy she had been in Harry\u2019s embrace, only one day ago.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" ‘Misconception’ Sample Justine woke up tucked tightly into an unfamiliar bed with an awful noise whistling around inside her skull. Her right hand slowly climbed up soft hemmed cloth and over her tiny waist feeling along a line of three buttons and a breast pocket. Eventually the fingers spidered out and tugged at the edge … <\/p>\n