"You're cheating," Eva said, slapping my hand.

"How do you cheat at Rock, Paper Scissors? Is that even possible?" I rubbed my hand where she slapped me and resisted sticking my tongue out at her. I know it would result in a lecture from Mr Martin.

"You're waiting until I show you what I've chosen before you do yours! Anthony does it all the time."

"I'm not cheating."

I laughed to try and convince her that I hadn't cheated at any point in the past ten minutes, but that was a lie. It wasn't exactly a fun game, but winning helped to pass the time and it was a lot more fun to win.

Eva and I were the last two left from a long line of children that arrived on the train with us several hours ago. Enid had been chosen by a young-ish, seemingly rich, couple and even Mark had been chosen by a local farmer to help on the farm. To pass the time, Eva and I had taken to playing games but that didn't stop the boredom as we waited to see whether anyone else would be turning up before the sunset.

We had both overheard Mr Martin talking to the billeting officer about what would happen if no one wanted us. Mr Tate had said that we would be placed with either himself or the woman behind the desk and neither of them looked all that interesting. That and I didn't think I would be able to look the woman in the eye without laughing; she looked too much like Mr Martin. The more time that passed, the less likely it seemed that anyone else would show up.

My stomach growled, my legs ached and I could feel my eyes starting to droop the longer we waited. Mum had woken me up so early that morning to make sure I was ready that I felt dead on my feet and just wanted to lay down in the corner of the room and go to sleep. Eva fared no better and I could hear her stomach growling every five minutes. I wished I hadn't eaten all my sandwiches on the train. I would have even been tempted to eat the marmite ones.

"Anthony would find this hilarious," Eva said, stretching her arms out behind her.

"What? The two of us being the last ones here?"

"Yes." She laughed. "He always said that we looked like troublemakers when we stood together. He might have been right."

"Me more than you. I always look like I'm about to attack someone. You could be a cherub in one of those old paintings."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" She feigned outrage.

"No, just that you have adorable chubby cheeks."

I reached out to pinch them, the same way her Gran did whenever she saw her, even if only a week had passed. She slapped my hand away which resulted in a glare from Mr Martin on the other side of the room. Enid may have been the sensible one, but Eva was the sweet-looking one, although she was usually anything but sweet. She had long, curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes to go with the cherub cheeks. Most of the time people said that I got her into trouble, that wasn't true.

Mr Martin crossed the now-empty hall towards the woman at the desk and Mr Tate, the billeting officer. The three of them spoke in hushed whispers with buried heads, most likely so that we couldn't hear what they were saying. They too looked like they were getting annoyed with how long we were waiting for someone else to walk through the door. I was still holding onto the hope that they would let us get back on the train and go home, but I didn't think that would happen.

Eva stifled a yawn and dropped her head onto my shoulder, staring out of the open door and scuffing the toe of her foot on the ground. At this point, I would take staying with the female version of Mr Martin if it meant I could get something to eat and take a nap. After several hours on a train and then several hours of just standing around, all I wanted was something more than a sandwich and to sleep for several hours.

Through the door, an elderly lady with a wooden walking stick appeared, her eyes widening at the lack of children in the room until she saw Eva and me. I lifted my shoulder a little and Eva's head shot up, but she looked a little stunned, as though she had started to fall asleep. Eva would have a better chance of being chosen by a nice, elderly lady than I would since she looked more innocent and less hassle than me.

"Ah, Mrs Williams, how lovely to see you," Mr Tate said. He crossed the floor with such force that the sound of his footsteps bounced off the walls.

"Apologies for being late, Mr Tate. I had to close up the post office," the woman said.

"Not to worry, Mrs Williams." Mr Tate smiled and slowly led her to where Eva and I stood.

"Are these two related?"

"No, they're just friends.

"Hm. If you were siblings I would take both of you. As it stands, I only need one person to help me out at the post office. Preferably someone with good mathematical skills, and knows their manners. I won't abide lack of discipline in a child."

"Looks like you're up, Eva," I said. Eva looked at me. "Well, your maths skills are miles better than mine and you're better behaved."

"What about you?"

"I'll manage."

I gave Eva a slight nudge in the back and she stumbled, but painted a smile on her face and looked at Mrs Williams. She gave a sharp nod of her head and Mr Tate led them both over to the table with the woman so that they could collect the details to send back to Eva's parents. Someone like Mrs Williams was perfect for Eva since she was organised, quiet and only got into trouble with me - even though she came up with the activities that got us into trouble. That and her academic record far outweighed my own.

When Mrs Williams' details had been taken, she led Eva back through the hall and towards the door. Eva offered me a small wave and a mutter of goodbye before her, her suitcase, and Mrs Williams left the hall. With Eva gone, I was left alone with Mr Martin, Mr Tate and the woman behind the desk whose name I didn't know. Of course, I knew someone had to be left behind and I had the slightest inkling that it would be me, but standing in the middle of that vast room alone made it all a reality.

I grabbed my suitcase by the handle and walked to the back of the room where piles of chairs had been stacked and several tables had been left. Although I knew I would get a lecture from Mr Martin, I placed my suitcase on the floor beside one of the tables and jumped up to sit on one, swinging my legs back and forth. Whoever showed up next, if anyone did, would be stuck with me regardless of my behaviour and I may as well be comfortable whilst I waited.

Once again, the three adults convened away from me to have a conversation, no doubt on what they were going to do with me if they couldn't find a host family for me. With any luck, I'd spend the night with Mr Tate who I could look in the eye without laughing, although he seemed about as interesting as Mr Martin. Still, even if I did get stuck with one of them, it wouldn't be for too long and there was nothing to say that I had to spend my time around them. I could probably find something else to do.

"I'm sure someone else will come in soon, Miss Vaughn," Mr Martin said, his shoes slapping against the wood of the floor.

"If they don't, can I go home?" I asked.

"It's not safe for you to be London, as you well know."

"Dying from boredom and hunger isn't really safe either."

Mr Martin smiled, something I never thought I would see him do. Perhaps he thought that smiling would make the entire thing a little easier on me but I didn't mind all that much. I certainly didn't need him trying to be nice or act like he cared when I knew that he probably didn't mean it. We had never really seen eye-to-eye since he labelled me as more of a troublemaker due to my lack of interest and general bad behaviour in school. That wasn't my fault, I just didn't like school.

I leant back on my hands and stared up at the ceiling, following the wooden beams with my eyes. They all met in the middle of the roof with a long beam trailing from the front of the room to the back. Small pieces of sunlight broke through holes in the roof and a bird flying overhead would occasionally block any light from coming in. The roof looked like it needed a repair before a bad storm set in.

"I know you're busy here Mr Tate, but can we store one of the benches from the square in here? Someone broke it and we can't risk anyone getting hurt. Mr Davis can't get around to fixing it until tomorrow," a man said, walking through the open door. He carried with him a large wooden bench with another man holding up the other side.

"Of course you can. Just set it down out of the way, we have more kids arriving tomorrow," Mr Tate.

"George said he would try and get out to fix it early in the morning."

"What's broken?"

"The middle plank has snapped in two. We have a spare one, but my hammering isn't the best."

"I could fix it," I said, jumping down from the table. "My dad taught me how."

"Who's this?"

"One of our evacuee's," Mr Tate said.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Miss Vaughn," Mr Martin said.

I walked across the room to the bench, which the man had placed in the middle so they could have a conversation. The middle plank of wood had been snapped in half, the two ends splintered but still attached to the legs. It didn't seem like a difficult job, just a hammer and some pliers, certainly something I was capable of doing if they would let me. Dad had taught me all I needed to know regarding repairs and construction.

"Why not? It will give me something to do and it won't be here tomorrow."

"It can't hurt," Mr Tate said. Mr Martin sighed in defeat.

"I'll need a hammer, nails and some pliers," I said, kneeling beside the bench.

The man who had bought the bench disappeared outside and returned a few seconds later with a plank of wood the size of the bench as well as a toolkit. He placed both the plank and the toolkit on the floor beside me before backing away. Nice to see someone had some faith in me, but since none of them other than Mr Martin knew me, I wasn't offended. I doubted even Mr Martin would trust me with a hammer, but he didn't trust me with a pencil which was warranted.

I rooted around in the bag until I found a set of pliers and then worked to pull the small nails out of the end of the wood. The nails struggled against the pliers but after a lot of twisting and general manipulation, I managed to pull the nails out of the wood. With the halves of the wood no longer attached, I placed them on the ground beside me along with the nails that were of no use to anyone now. They were warped out of shape from all the tugging and had rusted a little from the rain.

From the floor, I grabbed the newer board and laid it in the gap, taking some of the nails and the hammer. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched everyone shuffle back. I hammered two nails into each side of the plank to make sure it was secure before checking that the nails hadn't poked through the bottom. Once the last nail I was, I put the hammer back in the bag and stood up.

"There," I said.

"Hm, not bad. You'd give George a run for his money. We'll put this back in the square first thing tomorrow."

"We're sorry we're late, Mr Tate! There are so many issues on the farm," a woman said as she entered the room. Her hair was a little dishevelled and she had mud splattered on her dress. A man, presumably her husband, followed close behind.

"Not at all, Mrs Goodwin!"

"Is there anyone left or will we have to come back tomorrow?"

"Actually, there is a Miss Sybil Vaughn still here."

Mr Tate walked around the bench and grabbed me by the shoulders, steering me out of the crowd so that Mrs Goodwin could see me. The moment I stepped into her eye line, her face dropped when she saw me, as though clearly expecting someone else. Part of me wondered if she was going to turn around and come back when there were some boys around.

"We need someone strong to help around the farm, we have a lot of repairs that need doing," Mrs Goodwin said.

"Ah, you're in luck! Sybil here just mended one of the benches from the square."

"Do you know how to use tools?" Mr Goodwin asked.

"Yes, sir. My dad taught me so I could fix things at home if he wasn't there."

"She'll have to do. We need all the help we can get and if she can wield a hammer, that's good enough for me."

"Excellent!" Mr Tate said. "If you come over here, we can get everything sorted."

"We need a young man, not a girl," Mrs Goodwin whispered to her husband. She needed a lesson in whispering.

"We can always ask some of the young men who have been evacuated for help. She's the only one here and we can't let her stay with Mr Tate or Miss Jameson. Have a heart, Barb. Who knows, she might be just who we're looking for."

Mr Goodwin winked at me before following Mr Tate to fill out the required paperwork. Mrs Goodwin looked at me but said nothing. She didn't need to. The furrowed brows and the pressed lips told me all I needed to know about how welcome I would be under her roof if I couldn't do the work she needed. I was determined to prove myself to her, prove that I was worth the time of day whether I was a girl or not.

Who said a girl can't be strong?

~~~

A/N - Here we are! Chapter Four! I finished Chapter Nine earlier so we're still ahead in terms of prepared chapters which is awesome!

Question time! Any new thoughts on Sybil? We found out a little more about her today, do you think she'll be a trouble maker? Also, first impressions on the Goodwins?

Let me know!

First Published - April 6th, 2021