SHORT STORIES: Rations

“Mummy, why do we have so much?”
“Whatever do you mean Victoria?” her mother replied across the table.
“Timmy says that his mummy and daddy have so little to eat that their bellies rumble like monsters!” She doesn’t know what monsters Timmy means, but she is sure they can’t be good.
“Well, mummy and daddy make sure we have enough for our little angel” she replied, carving the chicken as she talked. She laid it upon their finest china, alongside some steaming vegetables, and even some potatoes, before setting the plate before Victoria.
“Okay mummy” Victoria replied, before gobbling every last part up.

***

“We can’t be out too late or the bangers will get us!” Victoria said, skipping as she chased Timmy along Addison road. Her new white dress was much nicer than Timmy’s torn trousers, but she musn’t tell him that or he would be sad.
“We won’t, we won’t!” He called back, between bursts of whistling Keep The Home Fires Burning. Timmy was faster and stronger than she was, but Victoria’s mummy had said that boys only had muscles because they had much less brains.
He stopped running in front of a dark and burnt pile of wood, and turned back to her.
“Look! Look!” He called.
“What is it?”
“Marge’s family have moved to the country, so they took down their house!”
Victoria couldn’t believe it, Marge had always had a lovely house! She had wondered why Marge wasn’t in school today, but lots and lots of other little boys and girls went to the country, so she supposed that must have been where she had gone too.
“Let’s climb it!” Timmy shouted, throwing his satchel to the ground and rolling up his trousers, before leaping onto a barge of wood, and walking across it. He stuck his arms out to the sides like ballerinas always did, and that made her giggle.
She put her bag on the floor carefully (because any dirt would upset daddy) and slowly climbed onto another barge. She walked across it, looking at the pieces of house Marge’s mummy and daddy had left behind. There was a kitchen sink, an old radio, and even some old toys sticking out of some rubble. She got on her hands and knees and gently pulled a teddy bear from the black soot. Why would Marge leave her favourite teddy? She decided to put it in her bag for when Marge came home from the country. Timmy was swinging from a metal pole when a grown up shouted at them to get off. Victoria said to the man that she was very very sorry before she ran home, waving to Timmy as she went.

***

“Mummy, why did Marge move to the country?” Her parents exchanged eye contact- almost too quickly for Victoria to notice, but she had fast eyes from her spelling lessons with Mrs. O’Hea.
“Well..darlin’” her father began. He crossed his legs slowly, and in the same movement placed a pipe in his mouth. He gave Victoria a small smile, but it quickly left his face.
“Princess..it’s rather a long story” her mother interjected.
“Yeh..y’see..you know the bangas?” Victoria did know the bangers, even if her daddy’s silly voice had said it badly – ‘your father talks like a common scoundrel’ her mother had told her once, tired and angry. The bangers came late, late at night, after mummy and daddy had put her to bed – but they always woke her, no matter how hard she tried.
They flew high up in the air, and always loved hitting things. Most of all they loved hitting houses that were lit up, and so Victoria had to keep all of her lights off unless she wanted a spanking. The bangers clapped their hands, which Victoria thought had to be the size of houses themselves, as they let off such an awfully loud noise. And after a while, the screeching cat would come, telling everyone the bangers had arrived. Billy at school thought the cats name was ‘Hair rain Simon’, which was a silly name for a cat.
“The bangas take away peoples ‘ouses” her father said, with a quick glance to his wife.
“Yes, dear” she continued for him “the bangers are very naughty, and take homes away from families – all of their lovely things are taken, and that is why Marge’s family moved – to the lovely countryside, with all of the wildlife and trees.” She gave a faint smile.
“But why do they take houses away?” Victoria enquired – Marge had never been naughty at school, and her daddy was a baker! What could they have done wrong?
“the fuken bangas are cowards iz why” her father muttered, only just loud enough for Victoria to catch the naughty word.

***

“Children, children!” Mrs. O’Hea called. They slowly fell silent, pencils dropped to pages, voices hushed as eyes turned towards her. “I have something very important to give to you” she said, leaning over and fetching her satchel from the floor. “Now, this is called a gas mask, and each and every one of you is getting your very own”. She pulled the oddest hat from her bag that Victoria had ever seen. It was black, but not a nice black like her mummy’s makeup, instead it was faded and scratched, and Victoria thought it must have been in a fight with the bangers. It had two clear pieces like windows, but turned into circles. But oddest of all was the part that hung from the front – a long, thick circle, like the tubes mummy’s weekly meat came in. It scared her. She didn’t like it one bit. She almost shouted out ‘no thankyou!’ but caught the words in her mouth and gobbled them back down into her tummy.

“What are they for miss?” asked Brooke. She kicked her legs back and forth under her chair, as if she couldn’t sit still for excitement. Brooke’s blonde hair had patches of dirt running throughout, and her skirt was awfully torn. Victoria wondered why her mummy didn’t just fix it.
“Well, Brooke, they’re to keep you safe. Whenever you hear the special sound, you are to put these on like” – she put the strange hat over the front of her face – “this.”

***

“Where is daddy?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know, my angel” her mother replied, eyes glazed with tears. She held Victoria so close and squeezed her so tightly that Victoria thought she might pop. She didn’t even realise mummys could cry.
“Okay, everyone, let’s calm down! We’re all going to be okay down here – let’s just keep calm, carry on, and show that Hitler bastard what we’re made of!” called the voice of the policeman – he had led Victoria, her mummy and lots of other people into one of the London Underground train stations – she didn’t know why, mummy said it was the bangers, but bangers only came at night time, didn’t they? Silly mummy. Now Victoria was cross because they were just about to buy some lovely rich tea biscuits for tea. But then she heard it. Everyone in the station fell silent at once – even the children. The sound was far, far away. Like thunder through thick glass. But it grew closer. The bangers had arrived. She clutched her mother’s hand with all of her might.
“Mummy..what if the bangers..get daddy?” she whispered, almost too scared by the thought to finish it. Her eyes welled with tears and her legs shook; Victoria felt sure the bangers were out to get just her – but what if they took her daddy? She started to cry.
“My angel..” her mother began, crouching down beside her, but the rest of her words never came – instead she again hugged Victoria, even tighter than before. Victoria hoped her mummy would never ever let go of her, she was so scared.
She thought about Marge, in the country, and about all of the other boys and girls who had moved away. She wished her mummy and daddy had decided to move them all away, far from the bangers and the screeching cat – she hoped she would see all of her old friends again soon. She hoped she would see daddy soon.

The ever-approaching roar of the bangers grew louder.