One of the girls raised her hand as if in school. “I’m hungry. When are we going to eat?”
“As soon as you settle down.” Audrey turned to Mrs. Smith and the two maidservants. “Put together some sandwiches. We’ll feed them out here and prepare their baths while they eat. I won’t let them into my house in their current condition.” Mr. Grayson had unloaded the baggage and was preparing to leave with the wagon. Audrey shouted for him to wait. “Go with him into the village,” she told one of the maids. “Ask the chemist what we’ll need to delouse thirty children.” The girl scampered to board the wagon as if offered a reprieve.
With help from a very reluctant Robbins and a still-fuming George, Audrey managed to corral the children into small groups on a grassy stretch of lawn to eat their sandwiches. Afterwards, the servants separated the boys from the girls and gave them all baths, using every tub and basin in the manor house and gallons of hot water and soap. Then Audrey set the children and servants to work with the fine-tooth combs the chemist had recommended. “He said it was the only surefire way to treat lice and nits, ma’am,” the maid had reported. Audrey lacked the stomach for dealing with vermin and took the teacher, Miss Bristol, aside to speak with her.
“I think it would be best if the children attended school in the village every morning. There are too many distractions out here, and they’ll never be able to concentrate on their studies. Perhaps the walk into the village and back will help use up some of their energy.”
“Is the school large enough to hold them all?”
Audrey knew that it wasn’t, but she wouldn’t change her mind. She wanted the children out of her house for at least part of the day. “I’ll ask the vicar about using the church hall. We’ll find room somewhere.”
At bedtime, the small measure of order that Audrey had managed to create slipped into chaos. “Do you have any advice for me?” she asked Miss Bristol. “We don’t have nearly enough beds.”
“Many of these children are siblings. Divide them into families and make the older ones take care of the younger ones. That’s what they do at home. I’m sure they share beds, too.”
Her advice proved useful, and the children eventually settled down for the night with their siblings. Audrey assigned a servant to each room to prevent the children from escaping, then made her way down to the housekeeper’s sitting room to thank her for all she had done. “We may not need more beds after all,” she told an exhausted Mrs. Smith. “It seems many of them aren’t used to sleeping in a bed and prefer to sleep on the floor. One of the girls told me that beds are for dead people. Imagine!”
“These children are the poorest of the poor. I would feel sorry for them if there weren’t so many of them.”
“Well, I can’t thank you enough for all your help. Hopefully the days ahead will get better.”
There was a knock on Mrs. Smith’s door and Robbins poked his head inside. “Excuse me, Miss Audrey, but two ARP wardens would like to speak with you outside. They asked for Mr. Clarkson, but he doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”
The wardens were waiting on the front steps. Audrey recognized the tall, thin man with the stooped shoulders as one of the deacons from church. The plump woman beside him was his wife. “Good evening, Miss Clarkson,” he said, removing his cap. “I’m sorry to say you have a bit of a problem. If you’ll kindly step outside and close the door, you’ll see what it is.”
She resisted the urge to sigh and did what he’d asked, closing the front door and following him a few steps away from the house. The fall evening was cool and damp, and she wished she had a sweater. The clouds shielding the moon and stars threatened rain. Rain! She tried not to panic at the thought of thirty children cooped up inside her home on a rainy day.
“As you can see,” the warden said, gesturing to the manor, “you have light leaking everywhere. It’s imperative that the countryside remain in pitch-darkness so our enemies have no signposts to follow on their bombing raids.”
Slivers of light spilled from behind windows on all three floors, including Father’s study. He hadn’t allowed anyone into his lair, and the light shone like a beacon in the featureless night. Beyond the manor, the countryside was pitch-black as far as Audrey could see, causing the leaking light to shine even brighter. “I’m very sorry, but we ran out of cloth.” Was it only this morning that she’d stood on a ladder to pin it into place? “Wellingford has so many windows, you see, and—”