At that moment he made up his mind to go home. As soon as their backs were turned he would slip away and find the road out of the village. A vision of the darkness sliding over the great, empty countryside he had seen from the coach gave him pause, but then anything was better than this waiting. He could thumb a lift back to London, and if he was lucky, maybe he’d find something to eat.
As he drew his legs under him, tensing his muscles for a chance to bolt, he heard a familiar sound. A horse’s hooves clip-clopped on the pavement, just like old Snowflake’s when he pulled the milk float at home. But milk came in the morning, not in the evening. A shiver of fear ran down Lewis’s spine as the hoofbeats stopped and the horse blew loudly just outside the open door of the hall. He stood, heart hammering.
The man who came into the hall didn’t look frightening. He wore a black uniform and a cap, like the chauffeurs Lewis had seen at the cinema, and might have been a bit older than Lewis’s dad.
“John, how good to see you,” Mrs. Slocum, the billeting officer, gushed with relief. “I knew we could count on Edwina to take the rest of the children.”
Removing his cap with a nod to the teachers, the man said a bit brusquely, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Slocum, but Mrs. Burne-Jones only gave me instructions to bring the one.” Glancing at the children, he pinched his lips together. “You say this lot is all you have?”
“I’m afraid so,” said the billeting officer, and Lewis wondered if the note of apology in her voice was meant for the children or for the man in the uniform. “But surely—”
“And needs must it’s a boy, as she means to put him inthe room above the stable,” John said firmly. The thin line of his lips almost disappeared as he regarded Lewis and Bob Thomkins. He lifted a finger. “I suppose that one will do.”
Realizing that the finger was pointing in his direction, Lewis looked wildly behind him, just in case some other boy had materialized.
“All right … Lewis, isn’t it? Get your bag. You’ll be going up to the Big House with Mr. Pebbles here,” said Mrs. Slocum, her disapproval of the unknown Mrs. Burne-Jones’s stubbornness plainly evident. Then she forced a smile. “John, do tell your mistress that we’ve three more without a place to lay their heads. And there are the teachers, of course. Surely she could find room for them, even temporarily.”
