It had still been morning when the bus had stopped at the railway station and she’d guided Peter to a seat on the packed train. It had been early morning when she’d taken Peter’s hand, said goodbye to their mother, and climbed onto the double-decker bus outside their school in Hull. In the strange cocoon of the carriage, Lizzie had lost all sense of time. Lizzie couldn’t reach the girl to comfort her ?- ?there were too many other children in the way. A tiny girl cried, “Mummy, I want my mummy,” over and over again. A few of the older children played a card game using a suitcase for a table. Some sat blank-faced with their gas masks slung over their shoulders and their possessions in their laps. Some sat on suitcases in the aisle while others bickered and jostled for room on the crowded seats. Instead, as the train sped along the tracks, all Lizzie saw was her own frizzy-haired reflection in the blank black rectangle of glass.Ĭhildren from Lizzie’s school were crammed into the train carriage. Lizzie knew the paint was necessary to hide the train’s lights from German planes, but she wished she could see outside where there might be farmland, mountains, or rivers to watch. Every window on the train had been painted black, blocking any possible view of the passing scenery.
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