Shattered Hopes

Day 3

Tom had planed to sleep in that day, it wasn't often he got to spend a whole night in his nice warm bed. That was until Benjamin started to shake him.

"Tom! Tom! Wake up! It's snowing!"

Tom jumped up and rushed to the window. He tossed the blackout away and stuck his head out.

Five seconds later he was chasing after a giggling Benjamin and Beth shouting,

"You little brats, it's august!"

He jumped the last few steps. When he landed he saw Freda holding Sally, Sally was holding a bucket. Tom as covered in paper as the little girl threw the contents of the bucket over him. As the paper cleared and Tom's snarl was revealed the happy expressions on the children's faces vanished. Freda held her hand up warningly.

"You can't kill her, it's her birthday."

Tom froze and noticed something new about Sally. She was wearing one of Oliver's old red woolly hats. It had a hole by her ear and the number seven chalked on it. She was wearing an old pullover of Clara's; it was far too big for Sally. She had a necklace round her neck, or at least a piece of string with a medallion on it. And she was glowing. She had just been given junk and she was glowing.

"Rosy's cooking a birthday desert," Oliver offered as if that made the early prank better.

Tom looked at Freda for confirmation. She shrugged.

"Is she now?" he said to Oliver.

Oliver nodded.

"I will have to go see it."

Oliver looked hurt. "Don't you believe me?"

Tom smiled. "No. I do not believe anyone. Especially someone who's only talent is climbing chimneys and has not done so for years."

Oliver's face lit up and his mouth curled in to a sly grin.

"All right. Tonight. After the little kids have gone to bed. I bet I can beat my old record."

"Ooooooh," moaned Sally, "I want to see. Freda! I want to see the race."

"We'll see," said Freda, rolling her eyes at Tom.

"I don't really think this is safe," Beth put in.

Everyone turned and stared at her in shock.

"What? Has everybody just forgotten the air raids?"

Tom smiled. "I'll check it out in a minute, first I'm going to see about this cake."

"It's not a cake, it's a tart."

"A tart?"

Rosy showed him the pie dish. It was lined with a thin layer of pastry. In a bowl on the side was a soft apple mixture.

"We had some pastry left over from last night's pie," she explained, "Not much but enough for a thin tart. We thought it might cheer Sally up."

Tom considered this. "How long will we starve for?"

"Two weeks," said Rosy, promptly. She looked up and smiled at Tom. "Joking. We won't starve. But don't expect any fresh fruit for the rest of the month."

"So we're going to die of scurvy instead."

"Don't laugh about it. My Grandfather died of scurvy."

"Was he a sailor?"

"No, he just wasn't in to the whole 'fresh fruit' thing." Rosy narrowed her eyes at Tom. She appeared to only just be noticing something. "Are you aware you have snow in your hair?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes."

As Tom left the kitchen he bumped in to Clara. She giggled at him and picked a bit of paper out of his hair. Tom brushed the rest out and wandered back upstairs. He rummaged through his things until he found the box. He turned it to look at the-

"Hey Tom."

Tom turned. Benjamin was looking at him.

"Let me guess," said Tom, "It's hailing now."

Benjamin laughed. "No. I just wanted to say..."

He paused. Tom raised his eyebrows. Benjamin grinned.

"That it was all Beth's idea!"

Tom couldn't help it. He laughed! He was shocked at himself later. A Muggle eight-year-old who still got carried out by Rosy every air raid, and he made Tom laugh. Tom never laughed. There wasn't and point. Life was miserable. There was war, pain, lack of sleep to say nothing of his slime ball of a father. The man, who had left him, abandoned him. The man who deserved to die a very slow and painful death preferably involving large birds with sharp pointy beaks. Despite all this he laughed. It wasn't even that funny a comment. But due to sure elation, he had laughed.

"Come on," he said, "Let's head downstairs and see if that tart is ready yet."

Downstairs Clara took the liberty of cutting them both a piece of tart. It was practically falling apart because the pastry had been stretched so thin to make it round the whole dish. There was a rush and grab for spoons.

Clara seized this opportunity to talk to Tom

"'ave yer checked ya box thingy today?"

Tom nodded. "Just now. Orange."

"Meanin'?"

"No bombs at all. We are safe for tonight."

Clara smiled. "On with the race then. I'll 'ave to tell Beth. But let's do it after the lih-ull 'uns 'ave gone to bed. We don't want them copy cat-yin' once you and yer box 'ave gone."

Tom stared at her, blinking. "Clara, dare I suggest elocution lessons? It is just, sometimes you are quite hard to understand."

Clara looked hurt and gazed at her feet.

"Rosy has the perfect accent," she murmured.

Tom considered this. "Yes," he said, almost to himself. "She does." He suddenly seemed to remember whom he was talking to. "Maybe you could ask her."

Clara gave him a smile that could almost be described as brave.

"Maybe," she replied.

They were sitting in the living room, timing Oliver going up the chimney again, when the siren went off.

"I thought yer said there wouldn't be a raid at all tonight," Clara said.

Tom frowned. "The light was orange, I swear it."

"The light on that box thin' o' yours?" David asked.

"Yes."

"Looked red to me when I saw it earlier."

"What?!"

"I said," David yelled above the siren. "I looked red to me!"

"I've got to check."

"Where are you three going?" Beth demanded as they jumped up.

"To check Tom's raid detector," Clara told her.

"Are you lot mad? The siren's gone off. Come on!"

Tom ignored her and ran up the stairs. Clara and David followed him. They met Paul coming out of his room.

"What are you lot up to?"

"Checking something," Tom told him.

"That little box of yours? It's red. Why?"

Suddenly Tom's arm was at Paul's throat and the younger boy was pressed against the wall.

"You've been going through my stuff! Don't you ever DARE go through my stuff you Muggle scum."

"We don't 'ave time for this," Clara commented. "What does red mean, Tom?"

Tom froze. "There's going to be a bomb," he answered in almost a whisper.

The girl and two boys stared at him in shock. Clara was the first to react. She darted in to Tom's shared room, parted the black out cloth and stared out the window. The she, very slowly, back away.

"They've left the door open," she said, shaking. "There's light, floodin' out." She turned sharply and pointed down the steps. "Yer gotta go! Quick!"

David and Paul legged it down the stairs, following her command. She turned to Tom.

"You too Tom. I'll 'elp with the kids."

"No," Tom growled, suddenly vicious. He walked confidently in to his room and began throwing things over his shoulder. "I've got to find my book."

"Are yer mad!" Clara screamed, "We're gotta get out, Tom-"

"Shut up," Tom commanded, his waving finger leaving her in a shocked silence. "This book is more important than anything."

Suddenly she smiled dreamily.

"What?" she said vaguely, holding up 'Salazar Slytherin - the rise to evil'. "This book?"

She turned smartly, threw away the blackout and tossed the book out the open window. Tom rushed to the frame and leaned out.

"Yer know what, Tom," Clara murmured behind him. "I think I loved you."

She pushed him out the window.

And the bomb hit.

The records show that twelve died that night.

Oliver died. He was stuck up the chimney.

Paul and David died. They didn't get out in time.

Beth died. She came back in to the house to see what they were doing.

Freda died. She had gone to help the younger children.

Sally died in Freda's arms.

Rosy died, carrying Benjamin out the door.

Benjamin died; he received severe head injuries when he was thrown from Rosy's arms.

A car crash caused by the confusion of the raid resulted in the death of Emma and General Midden.

And Clara died, too concerned for Tom's life to save her own.

And Tom lived; evacuated to the country, knowing that every good Muggle he had ever known had been killed by the stubbornness of those, he hadn't even met.

THE END