magnolia-buildings

"We didn't know Len was so ill this morning," answered Ally. "And we didn't want to trouble the doctor on Sunday."

"Well, he's out now. I'll give him your message," said the doctor's wife in such a tone that Ally understood she had had enough of1 the epidemic.

Ally ran home in a state of despair. She always did any telephoning for the family,2 because nothing could make Mum pick up a receiver. She was afraid of it, the way3 some people are afraid of electricity.

"He won't come," Ally said, bursting into the flat. "He's out. His wife said we should have rung up4 this morning."

"I don't khow what to do," said Mum and went back to look at Len. His face was quite pale now and when he woke, he cried. "I'm sure he's got something worse than 'flu."

Mum's friend, Mrs Crawley, who came in at that moment, had a look at Len too. "He ought to take penicillin," she said. "I think he's got pneumonia. He's breathing just like Bob did before he died."

Mum looked at Dad. "You go to the doctor yourself, Alf," she said. "Perhaps he will come if you go yourself. We just can't wait until morning."

But at that very moment there was a knock at the door, and the doctor came in. He looked dead tired5 and was panting from the long climb upstairs. 8

"Why didn't you let me know this morning?" he asked. But Mum and Dad were too worried to explain. They just took him right in to see Len.

He sat down beside the bed, and said in a cheerful, quite different voice, "Well, young man, and what's the matter with you?" so that Len, who was always polite, tried to smile.

While the doctor was examining Len and listening to his breathing, Auntie Glad came back. She asked no questions but went straight to the kitchen and put on a kettle for her tea. Then she got out a little tray, and put on it her own rosy cup and saucer, some milk and sugar. Out of her black bag, she took a packet of biscuits. When she went into the kitchen to make her tea, Mrs Crawley who was still there said, "Chatty, isn't she?"1 and went to the door. As she passed the kitchen she said to Auntie Glad, "Len's real bad.2 The doctor's here."

Auntie Glad did not turn lound, but went on making her tea. So Mrs Crawley left the flat.

As Auntie Glad put her tray down on the table, the doctor appeared from Len's room. He was followed by3 Mum and Dad, and all three looked very grave.

The doctor took some medicine out of his black bag and said, "Give him one of these every four hours, Mrs Berners. Have you an alarm clock? He must not miss a dose all through the night. I'll look in tomorrow morning."

"What's he got?" asked Mum, and her lips were trembling.

"Just a touch of pleurisy,"4 said the doctor. "But don't worry. He'll be all right soon. Modern science is wonderful."

When the doctor had gone, Mum, usually so cheerful, sank into a chair and tears rolled down her cheeks "Oh, Len! my little chap!"

Dad came up to her and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "He'll be all right," he said. "You'll see. Give him one of the pills."

During the next few days, each time Ally went out she was afraid to come home for fear of what might have happened5 in the flat. Len lay so quiet, so good, only his little crew-cut head turned a little on the pillow.

"He's going to be all right, isn't he, Mum?" she asked once as they both stood outside the bedroom door.

"He's got to be,"1 Mum answered fiercely. Her eyes were red from no sleep and from crying. Dad still went to work, but came home al dinner time to see how things were going.

On the third day, Len asked for a bit of bread and butter. The fever that had sprung on him like a tiger, now gave up its attack. By the fourth day Len could sit up and read the comics2that Auntie Glad had brought him.

All the family sat on the edge of Mum's bed looking at Len and laughing as he smiled. Like soldiers after a long, hard battle, they were exhausted but happy. For a time the Berners stayed together in the flat, not wanting to go out at all. They only wished to be sure that they were all safe and together.

It was a wonderful day when Len could be carried into the living-room, to sit in the big armchair. His eyes that seemed,too big for his face, were even larger when he saw the great cake Mum had made. On its while iced top, in pink sugar, were the words "Get well quick, Len". Mum cut the cake and everybody got a thick slice, including Mrs Crawley who came in to visit Len.

"I'm going to have a pair of roller-skates for my birthday," said Len and smiled happily as he bit into his cake.

Chapter VIII

WYCH COTTAGE1

Spring was setting in now and the Common was really coming to life. All the mothers were out with their prams which they pushed about or put under the trees round the bandstand. The old men had brought out their chess or dominoes and were playing serious games. Soon the white and pink flowers would be in bloom.2 The pigeons were cooing, the sparrows were fighting for the crumbs thrown by the mothers, and the old duck built her nest as usual on the island of the small pond. Schoolchildren were running about everywhere and their kites were floating high in the sky.

The playground was full of children too. They were swinging, riding, sliding and digging. The lady who ran the playground3 had not a moment of peace. All the time she had to scold the children for something, especially the boys who threw sand in each other's eyes.

"Wouldn't have her job4for a thousand pounds," said all the mothers.

In the little wood by the tennis court the grass was already green. The children ran through the wood to see whether the wagons of the May fair had arrived yet. So In every corner of the Common something was happening.

Mum and Dad very seldom got away from Magnolia Buildings or the streets around the Common, except to go to work. Dad went down to the railway which was about a mile away towards the river, and when Mum was working, she took the bus every morning to clean her office. In the evenings, Dad went to the "Cock" for a half pint of beer and a chat5 with his friends, but Mum did not even have

that change. By the time she had prepared tea, washed up, done the ironing,1 sewn on a few buttons and sent the children to bed, she was glad to go to bed herself.

So it was a great event for her when she went two or three times a year to see her parents who had a little market garden not far from London. Sometimes if she went on a Saturday she would take one of the children to show off

together. Wych Cottage was the name of Grandpa's house. Mum had looked so tired all the week that Ally was afraid she would not be able to go, and she kept glancing at Mum to see how she was, afraid that the trip would be put off.

"It's no good3 looking at me every two minutes, Glory," said Mum a bit angrily, "because I'm not sugar and won't melt before Saturday."

"Are we really going then?"4

"Of course. And you'd better wash your hair and best gloves and see toB your stockings. And mind, Glory, I'll not take you there if you wear your trousers. It's all right here, but Grandma wouldn't like it. You'll put on a skirt!"

There was a terrible fuss in the flat on Friday night. Mum and Ally were both washing their hair and preparing everything for the trip. At last Mum sat down before the electric fire to dry her hair and began to give Doreen direc-

at all. Then there's only the potatoes to cook, and even you, Doreen Berners, can manage it." (It was well known that Doreen hated housework of any kind.) "Though," went on Mum, "I pity the man you'll marry, poor chap."

"I'm not going to marry," said Doreen sulkily, because she also wanted to go to see the grandparents. "Mum, I haven't been to Wych Cottage for such a long time."

"You were sick on the bus last time," said Mum, turning over to dry the other side of her head.

as to be ready for the morning: her best coat, her brown dress, clean petticoat, stockings, gloves, and well-polished shoes. The bus went from the "Cock" at ten, so there was no time to waste.3 Dad still did not work on Saturdays, so he would be at home to look after Len and the dinner.

It was the first real spring day as Mum and Ally walked over the Common. The grass smelt fresh, the birds were singing, and the sun was shining brightly. It seemed like a miracle after the long dark of the winter. Ally's heart was full of joy as she got on the bus.

It was a nice bus with comfortable seats. Mum said, "You can sit by the window, Glory, and look at the view, because I always fall asleep at once."

But Ally didn't shut her eyes for a minute all the way, for it was so seldom that she went away from home.

As the bus rolled along the road, she sucked the sweets she had brought for the trip and enjoyed everything she saw: the big shops with cotton frocks in the windows, flowers on the stalls, dogs, handsome policemen at crossings. She thought a bit about Izzy Waters4 and wondered what he would think of the letter she had written to him, asking for his autograph. When she listened to Izzy on the radio, she forgot all her troubles and felt so happy.

"Yes, this is not so bad. Off my legs and nothing to do,"5 said Mum, and her eyes shut and her head rolled sideways against Ally's shoulder. In spite of her curled hair and her lipstick, Mum looked rather grey and tired when she fell asleep.

The bus rolled on and on until it stopped at Wychwood.6

Mum and Ally got out, feeling like explorers who had arrived in some distant and savage land. Ally thought of Wychwood as deepest country, because she had never lived outside London, had never left it except to go for a day to the sea. But to tell the truth, the village was almost a suburb.

Mum led the way t a l k i n g with difficulty on her high heels along the lane which led to Wych Cottage. Ally walked beside her looking for once2 a neat schoolgirl in a skirt.

At the end of the lane stood an old cottage. Around it was a pretty front garden full of spring flowers and at the back was the market garden with neat rows of early vegetables. A cherry tree was in bloom before the door, and a black cat sat on the stone steps.

"Oh, isn't it lovely!"3 cried Ally. "I'd forgotten how nice it was." And she jumped up into the air.

"You mind your manners,"4 said Mum nervously, pushing a curl of her hair into her hat. "And wait till you are offered things."8

They opened the little gate and went along the path to the cottage. Grandma opened the door. She looked just as she always did in her neat, brown cardigan, and black skirt with a large white apron over it. She had thin grey hair which was drawn smoothly back into a bun; but she did not look like a real old lady because she was so upright and quick.

"Wipe your feet well," she said, "and come in. Well, Marjorie," she kissed Mum and then turned to Ally. "My,8 how Gloria grows! She's almost a young woman. Though why you couldn't have called her Mary or Kate or some other plain name, I don't know. Gloria!" she sniffed. "It's enough to give the girl ideas."7

Mum laughed. "Don't worry. She's got them."8

one had ever modernized Wych Cottage and so the kitch-

museum of little ornaments. Dut best of all, of couise, was a glass walking stick filled with a thousand sweets, pink and white. Ever since she was a baby,8 Ally wanted to have that walking stick.

After Grandma had asked about the health of the whole family, she glanced at Mum and said to Ally, "Now you run along, miss, and find your Grandpa and tell him that his cup of tea will be ready in ten minutes."

Ally knew that Grandma wanted to have a talk with Mum, so she jumped up and ran out through a dark little room where Grandma cooked on an old oil stove, and out into the big garden at the back of the cottage.

It was a real pleasure to walk through such a nice, tidy garden, Grandpa was working in the garden and his old brown clothes were of the same colour as the earth.

"Why, if it isn't our Glory!"4exclaimed Grandpa, and he gave her a kiss that smelt of earth and tobacco. He was quite an old man but his wrinkled face was rosy and he was always smiling. It was from him that Mum had got her gay temper which she passed on to Ally. "Why haven't you come to see your old Grandpa before?" he asked.

"There you are coming up a proper

show you the place and pick you a nice bunch of flowers over there."

So Grandpa and Ally slowly walked along the garden paths and he showed her everything there was to see, and told her how much trouble he had with all sorts of pests, so that Ally was greatly surprised to know that there were so many wicked creatures in the country.

"In town, there are only fleas and flies," she said. "I'd lie down and die at once, if I had to live in a dirty

old town," said Grandpa.

When they got back to the house, Mum and Grandma must have had their talk,5 for they were sitting near the hearth, cups in hand, quite ready to greet the other two.

"Did you wipe your feet and shut the back door?" asked Grandma.

Ally said she did, and sat down in a small chair by the hearth feeling she was a story-book character6 and not at all the Glory Alleluia of Magnolia Buildings. Grandma somehow could make everybody have good manners!

While the grown-ups talked, Ally looked about her and wondered why she liked the cottage so much. It seemed to have been there for ever and ever,7 and it was as if8 Grand-

ma and Grandpa could not live anywhere else. In the flats people were always moving and changing, but perhaps that was because they had not a piece of real ground under them. "I think if I grew some flowers myself," thought Ally, "I would never want to go away and leave them. It's so quiet too, no shouting like in the flats. I would like to live here."

Before dinner Grandma took her visitors upstairs to get tidy1 and brought up some water so that Mum and Ally could wash. There was no running water2 at Wych Cottage.

They had a very good dinner: pork and vegetables from the garden, an apple pie and cream and then some strong tea. When they could eat no more and were resting before washing up, Ally ventured to ask about the glass walking stick.

"I gave it to your Grandma," said the old gardener, smiling all over his wrinkled face. "I bought it at the May fair."

Suddenly Grandma laughed too and she looked almost young for a moment. "That was when I was nurse at the Hall."3

"Go on, tell4 Glory the story," cried Mum, who looked much better after her meal and rest. "I used to love it when "I was a little girl." And then came the story of Grandma's and Grandpa's love.

Grandma was nurse at a big house in Sussex5 — that was the Hall — and Grandpa came there to work as gardener. They both had to work hard from early morning till late at night. The maid-servants were not allowed to have followers. They were even not allowed to talk to the men-servants at the Hall.

"But the girls had to let the gardeners into the house when they brought fruit, vegetables or flowers," said Grandma, "though our head nurse would have skinned us girls