‘You all right, miss?’
She plucked a handkerchief from the pocket of her coat and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, forcing a brightness to her voice. ‘It’s been a long day. Let’s go home and see what Mrs Partridge has got to say when she sees you.’
Stanley grinned. ‘She’ll probably threaten to box my ears.’
‘I doubt that very much,’ said Romily with a small smile, thinking that having the boy back with them would cheer them all up. ‘We’ve missed having you around,’ she added. ‘Especially Bobby.’
At the mention of his beloved dog, the grin grew even bigger on Stanley’s face. ‘I can’t wait to see him.’ Then his expression abruptly turned serious. ‘’e won’t have forgotten me, will ’e?’
For the first time in many days, Romily laughed. ‘That’s about as likely as Hitler admitting ’e’s mad.’
‘’itler is mad, ain’t ’e, miss?’ Stanley said when they had locked up Winter Cottage and were in the car.
‘Dangerously so,’ she replied. ‘And therein lies the true menace we’re fighting. One can’t reason with a madman. All Hitler understands is fighting to the bitter end, and at any cost.’
‘Is that what you really think, miss?’
‘Sadly I do. All this talk of the war being over before Christmas came to naught, and now there’s no telling what will happen next, or how long we’ll have to wait for an end to it.’
‘Maybe the war will go on long enough for me to sign up. I reckon I’d make a good soldier.’
Regretting how honest she’d been, forgetting that she was talking to a child, Romily changed the subject. ‘Now tell me the real reason you ran away from home.’
‘I was ’omesick for ’ere,’ he said. ‘Like I told you.’
‘Just that?’
‘What else could it be?’ he said, his tone belligerent.
‘If it is only homesickness,’ she said slowly, ‘then I’m afraid you’ll have to go back to your mother. It’s simply not a good enough reason for you to stay with us.’
He folded his arms across his chest and stared grimly out of the window. ‘I won’t stay there if you do send me back,’ he muttered. ‘Nobody can make me stay.’
Chapter Fifty-Eight
No sooner had Romily pulled to a stop than, in an uncanny display of canine telepathy, Bobby came tearing across the lawn barking loudly. The dog practically flew at Stanley when the boy leapt out of the car. Romily stood for a moment to enjoy the reunion.
When they eventually made it inside the house, with Bobby still barking excitedly, as though announcing to the world that Stanley was back, Florence was the first to appear in the hallway. The look on her face when she saw the cause of the commotion was priceless.
‘I found him lurking at Winter Cottage,’ said Romily. ‘Could you rustle up something for him to eat, please? After he’s had a wash, that is. A jolly good scrub behind the ears is in order, I think.’
‘At the very least, I shouldn’t wonder,’ said Florence with a smile. She ruffled the boy’s hair, then gave him a hug. ‘Lucky for you we kept the clothes you left behind,’ she said.
‘How’s Isabella?’ asked Romily.
‘She’s fine. Hope is giving her a bottle of milk in the kitchen, with Annelise’s help, I might add.’
‘Can I see them?’ asked Stanley.
‘You can when I’ve scrubbed you with carbolic, young man,’ said Florence. ‘Come on, upstairs you go, and then you can tell me what on earth you’re doing here.’
‘I see you ain’t stopped being a bossy-boots,’ he said with a wink.
She tutted and rolled her eyes. ‘And you’re as cheeky as ever.’
‘Can I sleep in my old room, please?’ Romily heard him ask Florence as they reached the landing.
Florence made up the bed in his old room and dug out a pair of pyjamas, along with the dressing gown Allegra had bought him for Christmas. Florence had suggested they kept everything in case they were allocated a new evacuee, but a small part of her had wondered if Stanley would run away from his mother and come back here. Question was, what were they going to do about it?
