'Forty eight, forty nine, FIFTY! Ready or not, here I come!'
As she spoke the words, Patsy turned another page in her book and read on, making no move to get up and search the room.
The story was at a particularly interesting part, with a giant Alice stuck inside the White Rabbit's house, too big to get out the door but unable to make the enraged Rabbit outside understand. More animals joined the siege then, attempting to climb through the window or down the chimney to get at her, but being knocked back each time by one of Alice's giant hands or feet. It was funny to read about her batting them away and launching Bill the lizard right into the air with her foot, but it was frustrating too, because if only they'd listen they'd realise that she wasn't being deliberately naughty, she couldn't come out.
The crowd outside were calling for the house to be burned down with poor Alice still stuck inside it, when finally Patsy managed to drag her attention back to the real world for long enough to call out:
'Where could Grace be? Is she under the bed? Ah hah … no that's just her shoe. Bother, I was sure I had her that time!'
There was a suppressed giggle from the next room, where Patsy knew perfectly well that her little sister was crouching behind their big doll's house (Patsy's dolls' house), her fingers pressed tight over her mouth in an effort to keep quiet.
She hadn't actually seen her there, but it was the same place Grace had hidden every single time they played hide and seek for the last month, so it wasn't hard to guess. She probably looked quite a lot like the giant Alice actually, with the top of her head on full display above the red painted roof and a foot or bit of elbow poking out around the edges of the walls; as if she too had grown too big for her house and was beginning to burst right out of it.
Grace still seemed to be blissfully unaware that hiding so she couldn't see Patsy didn't mean that she couldn't be seen herself, or indeed that her sister might not be trying very hard to find her.
Not trying at all, really.
As long as Patsy called out every few minutes to make it sound as though she was looking, her sister wouldn't notice that the game never seemed to end with actually being found. It couldn't last forever of course, but for now, games of hide and seek offered a rare opportunity. Grace would be happy playing what she thought was a secret game with her sister's prized possession, and Patsy would be free to do whatever she felt like, unencumbered by her demanding little sister.
She could draw a picture without having to risk the points of her colouring pencils by letting Grace scribble with them; or read an entire chapter of her book without having to fend off repeated requests to read 'Orlando The Marmalade Cat' aloud instead ('because you're my Marmalade sister Patsy!'); or even (best of all), have a chance to play her own small, secret game with Matilda, the tiny teddy that usually had to stay hidden in her pocket for her own safety.
Matilda was very definitely Patsy's bear, but, like all Patsy's favourite toys, Grace coveted her, and tried to take possession of her whenever she could. In most things Patsy tended to let her sister have her way simply to keep her quiet (and so avoid the wrath of grown ups for not 'playing nicely'), but Matilda was different. She couldn't hand her over. It would be like cutting off her own hand.
Grace would end up screaming and drumming her heels against the floor, while Patsy held Matilda safely out of reach above her head and waited for the storm to pass. But of course the noise would almost always bring a grown up running to investigate, and they would inevitably take Grace's side, telling Patsy to let her sister have the teddy because she was younger, and wasn't Patsy too old for silly teddies anyway? (no, she wasn't. Not if it was Matilda).
Then she would have to look on in silent agony while Grace played triumphantly with her prize; afraid every minute that Matilda might be dropped down a drain, or that her sister would tear her little pinafore or unravel the stitches in her smile. None of these things had actually happened (yet), but it was safer to just keep Matilda out of sight unless she was alone.
It wasn't that Patsy disliked playing with Grace, not really. She could be funny sometimes, and quite good fun for such a little girl - certainly more fun than being all on your own all the time. But the last few months had changed things.
When they lived in Singapore they'd had their nanny to help jolly Grace out of her tantrums, and Patsy had had lessons most of the time anyway. But Maud hadn't come with them when they'd come to England, and ever since then Patsy had been expected to keep her sister entertained all day long, every day, without the respite of school or visits to friends houses or anything at all.
Of course Mama made sure they got up in the mornings, that they were dressed and fed, that they bathed and brushed their hair and teeth regularly; but the endless hours in between breakfast and lunch, and then lunch and supper, supper and bed, those were Patsy's responsibility. She was expected to keep Grace happy and busy, but also quiet, tidy and well away from anywhere she might disturb the grownups of the house, and it was exhausting.
At eight, she felt both much too old and much too young for the task. Too old, because the kinds of little girl games that Grace wanted to play felt twee and silly to her now (let's be cats! You have to be Orlando because you have orange hair, and I'll be Grace because that's my name too!'). Too young because it was hard work, taking care of Grace all the time, and her sister didn't always listen when she told her to do something, not even if she put her hands on her hips and went all cold and stern like Mama, or shouted like Daddy.
The only time she really got to herself, other than if Grace fell asleep first, was during the games of hide and seek.
'Ah hah, she must be on top of the wardrobe! I see you up there you little monkey!'
'Patience? What are you shouting about?'
Patsy jumped, instinctively dropping her book and leaping to her feet as if she had been caught stealing from the biscuit tin rather than reading quietly to herself in her bedroom.
'I'm just playing hide and seek with Grace, Mama'.
Her mother's gaze settled for a moment on the dropped book, but she seemed distracted, and she didn't bother to point out that the chances of finding her sister in the pages of 'Alice in Wonderland' were slimmer even than the chances of such a small girl managing to climb to the top of their imposing victorian wardrobe.
'Very good dear. Well, leave that now. I need to talk to you'.
Patsy's heart gave a little stutter of foreboding. The only times Mama ever came to talk to her unexpectedly were to tell her off, or to deliver bad news.
In fact, the last time she had said 'I need to talk to you' in that same way, it had been to announce that they were moving back to England. She had said it as though it was a good thing - 'we'll be nearer to the family, and able to offer support to our homeland in her hour of need', but it didn't feel good.
Until Patsy was six they had moved around a lot, never staying in one place long enough for her to make proper friends. Sometimes it had felt like it wasn't even long enough for her to unpack all her toys from their shipping crates before she had to pack them all away again and go to yet another new house.
Then they'd gone to Singapore.
There had been no more moves for nearly two years, and she had finally dared to believe they would be staying forever this time. She had had a best friend, and gone to school with other girls like her, and she had been happy.
But four months ago her mother had said 'I need to talk to you', and all of a sudden she had to leave everything behind - her friends, her pretty bedroom with the window seat and real four poster bed, her school where the teachers liked her and she had been about to be given a prize for her English composition, all gone in the time it took to say those six little words.
Worst of all, she had had to say goodbye to Maud. Her nanny had been the only grown up in the world who didn't tell her she was too old for childish games or teddies, the one who had instead given her cuddles and told her stories and sometimes even taken her side over Grace's when they argued.
And then she wasn't anymore, just like that.
Maud was from England - she had come with them long ago when Patsy was small, and travelled around with their family ever since. But this time she hadn't wanted to come. She had explained that there was no one left for her in England, and with the current troubles she'd feel safer where she was, though she hadn't explained what she meant. She had just hugged Patsy and Grace very tight and said she'd miss them; only she couldn't really have meant it - not as much as they'd miss her . If she had then she'd have come with them so they could all stay together and it wouldn't matter if she didn't have anyone else in England - they'd have had each other. She would never have gone off to be a nanny for their neighbours horrid little boy, as if she could replace them just like that.
Patsy dug her nails into her palms and focused on her mother, trying hard to ignore the way her heart was still thumping under her smocking as she thought back over everything she might have done to warrant a telling off.
'It's about your little… holiday'.
'With aunt Florence and cousin Eleanor and uncle Peter?'
'Yes yes, there's no need to recite the whole list dear. Well, I'm afraid there's been a change of plan. We've had word that poor Eleanor is very unwell. The doctor is hopeful that she will recover in time, but she's going to be poorly for a while, and even when she's better it'll need to be quiet so that she can convalesce - do you know what that means?'
Patsy opened her mouth to say yes (although actually, she wasn't absolutely certain), but Mama continued without waiting for an answer; though she had told Patsy often enough how rude it was not to let other people finish.
'Well, it means you won't be able to go and stay there anymore'.
'But… but we have to go. What about school?'
She and Grace had been going to enroll in the smart girl's school near where their aunt lived in rural Sussex - they already had the uniforms, pressed and carefully folded in their trunk, ready to be transported. Her mother might call it a holiday, but they were supposed to be staying with their aunt at least two terms, maybe for the whole school year; with Mama visiting as often as she could.
It was going to be Grace's first time going to school, so the two of them had spent hours looking at the prospectus that aunt Florence had sent - Grace pouring over pictures of smiling girls in smart uniforms, large playing fields and airy classrooms; while Patsy read out the words (only stumbling a little at the longest ones) and tried to describe what school was like. She wanted Grace to be excited about going rather than scared, so she'd focused mostly on friends and playtime and learning how to read story books to yourself, rather than mentioning strict teachers and French verbs and sitting still or else.
'You'll go to a different school of course'.
Patsy bit her lip. She didn't want to go to a different school, and Grace definitely wouldn't want to either. The school in Sussex looked quite nice, but not all schools were. There was a convent school that they had to walk past on the way to the park, and it was the scariest place ever. Probably scarier than a prison. It was a big ugly building with small windows and no playing field at all. It had high railings around it with nasty looking spikes at the top, and the nuns she occasionally glimpsed striding across the playground always seemed to be frowning, as if they were looking for someone to shout at or rap with a cane. And they had the uniform for the other school now, so they'd get in trouble right on the first day for wearing the wrong clothes, and all the other girls would know that they didn't fit in just by looking at them.
'Can't we just stay at home? I… I'm sure I could teach Grace, and do my own lessons out of books as well, I know I could'.
'Of course you can't stay here Patience, don't be absurd'.
'But if we can't go to aunt Florence then we'd be here after school anyway. I could look after us during the day too, easily. We'd be very quiet and not get in the way, truly'.
The words were accompanied by a sinking feeling as Patsy imagined how hard it would be, not only to have to look after Grace all day long, but to actually teach her lessons as well. She already often felt cross with her sister, and that was when they were just playing; it would be much worse trying to teach her to add and spell and recite. At least at school someone else would have done that part while she focused on her own classes, and they both could have made friends their own age instead of being stuck together all the time.
But they couldn't go to the convent school, they just couldn't . So she would manage somehow.
'You won't be here after school. I do wish you'd listen! You need to leave London. It will be too dangerous for children to stay here now War's coming, you know that'.
Except Patsy didn't know. Not really.
She had been listening as hard as she could ever since Mama had first told her they were leaving Singapore, but no one ever actually seemed to say what they meant . They hinted at things she didn't understand, or started sentences without finishing them, or simply told her that it wasn't a nice thing for little girls to ask about and sent her out of the room.
She did know that the grown ups acted very busy and very serious all the time now - that Daddy had signed up to be an officer in the army, and Mama was going to 'do her part' in London while Patsy and Grace went away to school (although even Mama didn't seem to know what her part actually was ).
Patsy knew these things, but they didn't feel real. It was like it was just a big game they were all playing for now, but would get bored of soon and go back to normal. They had to, because the idea of whole countries fighting each other didn't seem like something that could ever really come true. The Wars had all happened years and years ago when Mama and Daddy had been children, or even longer ago in the proper olden days, when things had been different to how they were now. Wars belonged in history lessons and text books, not in real life.
But if, somehow, it really was going to happen, if there would be bombs and fighting right here in London - then why would it be dangerous for her and Grace, but safe for Mama? It didn't make any sense, and Patsy longed to say so - to argue, maybe even shout that it wasn't fair... Except you never argued with Mama (and never ever shouted at her), and she couldn't think of any way to put all her worries into words that wouldn't make Mama say she was being disrespectful.
'What you're going to do is exactly the same as all the other children in London. You're being evacuated to the country, and a family there will look after you until it's safe to come home'.
'But we don't have any other aunts, do we?'
'It won't be an aunt, that's what I'm trying to tell you. It'll be… well, the government is finding good homes for all the children who have to leave London'.
The government ? How could they possibly do that? The government didn't know Patsy and Grace, and they didn't know anyone else in the whole country - only Aunt Florence, and even that was only a tiny bit, from letters and a few hazy memories of long ago visits.
If they weren't staying with an aunt and they weren't staying here with Mama, then...
'We have to go and live with a stranger ?'
The words wobbled as they came out no matter how hard Patsy tried to keep them straight, and her eyes felt a bit stingy, like she'd rubbed at them with salt on her hands. She could feel a shout building in her chest but she couldn't let it out, so it just kept building and building until there was no room left to breathe properly.
'Don't be such a baby Patience! I'd expect this from Grace, but not from you, you're a big girl now. You're what, nine years old? Ten?'
'Eight'.
'Well, quite old enough to go on a little train ride, there's no need to make a fuss. I've spoken to Sister Bernard at the convent school and explained your situation. She's agreed to take you in hand on the journey, so you can travel with their pupils, and she'll make sure you're placed with a suitable family. I don't quite know how it works, but I expect she has something arranged already. They'll meet you at the station and take you somewhere lovely I'm sure. Perhaps with a big garden, maybe even horses or a boating lake, you'll like that won't you?'
Patsy nodded uncertainly. She liked horses, and big gardens (the London house was big inside but hardly had any garden at all). She liked lakes and boats too, but she couldn't quite believe that all these things would really come true. Even if they did, it would be in a strange place with a strange school and people they didn't know even a little…
Her mother must have noticed her wavering because she sighed and gave her a little pat on the shoulder.
'Come on now, straighten that spine and put on a smile to show me how brave you are. You'll have to be a good grown up girl and take care of your sister while you're gone you know. She's still a baby really-
Grace was four , very nearly five. Why did she get to be a baby when Patsy had to be a good grown up girl?
'-so you shall have to be like a little Mama to her. I know you won't let me down, will you dear?'
She didn't feel at all sure, but Patsy did as she was told, standing up straight and plastering a too-big smile across her face as she answered 'no Mama', even as her heart pounded away and her palms grew sticky with sweat.
'Good girl. Now, that's enough talk, I need you to pack a little case for you and Grace. I've left a list of what you'll need on the hall table so it shouldn't be too difficult. We'll be going to the station in the morning, so I want you to finish before bed, alright?'
'We're leaving tomorrow ?'
'Yes dear, I just said that didn't I? It really is tiresome when you make me say everything twice. We shall go to the station after breakfast tomorrow. So, pack what you need tonight - only what it says on the list though, you'll need to fit it all in one case as Grace won't be able to manage her own, so do be sensible. I wish I could stay and help, but I have Mrs Edwards arriving any minute to discuss the WI fundraiser, and I'm afraid they simply can't get along without me. But you can manage, can't you Patience?'
Patsy nodded, keeping the big, silly grin stretched uncomfortably across her face until her mother had disappeared down the stairs, then she let the smile drop and her shoulders slump.
She reached into her pocket for Matilda, giving her head a gentle stroke with the tip of one finger, reassured by the familiar velvet softness of her. She imagined her bear reaching up to hold her finger with a tiny paw and tell her that she wasn't going to be on her own at all. If anything the slightest bit scary happened while they were away then she would simply call out to all her big bear friends and they would come to the rescue.
'I might be just a little bear myself Patsy, but I'm a bear queen and my friends are the biggest, fiercest bears in the world, they won't let anything bad happen to us'.
She sighed and closed her fingers around the teddy for just a moment, wishing she really could summon some giant bears to come and take care of her. She could live in their cave and eat honey sandwiches every day and sleep between the big paws of the mother bear where not even bad dreams would dare to trouble her...
Patsy let Matilda drop gently back into her pocket and trailed miserably out to the hall to find the list. On her way out the door she glanced back at her book and hesitated for a moment, but then left it where it had fallen, its pages splayed out forlornly on the floor. She didn't have time for Wonderland anymore.