she said. Tyler thought she was a sweet, placid sort of woman, who was a perfect match for his lonely, anxious sergeant.
Should he cancel the appointment? He had work to do at the station, but he didn’t like to back out at the last minute. Better follow up and see what the lady had to say. He wouldn’t have to take it any further if he didn’t want to.
—
The two boys had managed to huddle into a corner of the school assembly hall. It was playtime, but because of the foul weather the children had not been allowed outside. The girls had remained in the classrooms but the boys had been sent to the hall so they could run around, and the noise in the close confines was deafening.
Jan and Pim were ignored. Jan had already shown he could react quickly if threatened and, in spite of his skinny build, his blows hurt. None of the other boys were willing to risk taunting them, and nobody was generous enough to coax them to join in the wild games of tag that sprang up spontaneously. Even though at least half a dozen of the children were evacuees from London and Liverpool, they had arrived shortly after the outbreak of the war and were now pretty much assimilated. They weren’t sympathetic to these newcomers either. The brothers kept entirely to themselves. Pim never fought but he simply wouldn’t join in. He stuttered badly, and he mostly hovered in the background, looking miserable. It didn’t help that the boys had learned English in the East End of London when they’d first arrived in England. A lot of the other children couldn’t understand them. Or professed not to.
Pim leaned in closer to his brother so he could make himself heard above the din of screaming schoolboys. From the beginning, Jan had insisted that they always speak English except in a dire emergency. Pim had almost forgotten how to speak his native language.
“What’s g-going to h-happen, Jan? They won’t send us to a camp, will they?”
He was on the verge of tears, and his brother patted his arm.
“Stop asking that. I’ve told you and told you, they don’t have camps in England.”
“Yes, they d-do. Carl Stein’s uncle is on an island. He’s been there for t-two years. He’s an alien.”
“That’s different. That’s the Isle of Man, and it used to be a holiday camp. He’s in the lap of luxury.”
“Why’s he stuck there then?”
“He must be a communist.”
“I don’t th-think so.”
“Well, even if he is, they won’t kill him. The English won’t do that.”
Pim’s voice was tremulous. “They might. You n-never know. Carl is a Jew.”
Jan glanced around to make sure nobody was watching them. The bigger boys had started a game of leapfrog and two lines had formed down the length of the hall. Two teams, both intensely competitive.
Furtively, Jan pulled a small brown envelope from his pocket and opened it.
“Don’t forget we’ve got this. It’s our treasure. We’ll get to see Queen Wilhelmina with this.”
He picked out a thin, blackened coin, which he rubbed with the sleeve of his jersey until the silver edges shone softly.
“That’s all v-very well, Jan,” muttered Pim. “But who’ll b-buy it? We don’t even know if it’s w-worth so much as sixpence.”
“Don’t be thick. Course it’s worth more than sodding sixpence. First off, it’s a piece of silver treasure. I showed you how old it was.
Regina
means Queen. This is a coin from the time of Queen Elizabeth. Whoever was king or queen was the one whose head they put on the money. Like now, it’s King George.”
Pim liked the King because he’d heard him speak on the radio, and he tended to stutter as well.
“Besides, the reason it’s so valuable is because they’s very, very scarce.”
Pim regarded him dubiously. “What if everybody thinks we s-stole it?”
Jan had read more books than his brother and he knew a lot about treasure. “You don’t bleeding well
steal
treasure, lummox. You
finds
it. Somebody else must have stole the frigging
Should he cancel the appointment? He had work to do at the station, but he didn’t like to back out at the last minute. Better follow up and see what the lady had to say. He wouldn’t have to take it any further if he didn’t want to.
—
The two boys had managed to huddle into a corner of the school assembly hall. It was playtime, but because of the foul weather the children had not been allowed outside. The girls had remained in the classrooms but the boys had been sent to the hall so they could run around, and the noise in the close confines was deafening.
Jan and Pim were ignored. Jan had already shown he could react quickly if threatened and, in spite of his skinny build, his blows hurt. None of the other boys were willing to risk taunting them, and nobody was generous enough to coax them to join in the wild games of tag that sprang up spontaneously. Even though at least half a dozen of the children were evacuees from London and Liverpool, they had arrived shortly after the outbreak of the war and were now pretty much assimilated. They weren’t sympathetic to these newcomers either. The brothers kept entirely to themselves. Pim never fought but he simply wouldn’t join in. He stuttered badly, and he mostly hovered in the background, looking miserable. It didn’t help that the boys had learned English in the East End of London when they’d first arrived in England. A lot of the other children couldn’t understand them. Or professed not to.
Pim leaned in closer to his brother so he could make himself heard above the din of screaming schoolboys. From the beginning, Jan had insisted that they always speak English except in a dire emergency. Pim had almost forgotten how to speak his native language.
“What’s g-going to h-happen, Jan? They won’t send us to a camp, will they?”
He was on the verge of tears, and his brother patted his arm.
“Stop asking that. I’ve told you and told you, they don’t have camps in England.”
“Yes, they d-do. Carl Stein’s uncle is on an island. He’s been there for t-two years. He’s an alien.”
“That’s different. That’s the Isle of Man, and it used to be a holiday camp. He’s in the lap of luxury.”
“Why’s he stuck there then?”
“He must be a communist.”
“I don’t th-think so.”
“Well, even if he is, they won’t kill him. The English won’t do that.”
Pim’s voice was tremulous. “They might. You n-never know. Carl is a Jew.”
Jan glanced around to make sure nobody was watching them. The bigger boys had started a game of leapfrog and two lines had formed down the length of the hall. Two teams, both intensely competitive.
Furtively, Jan pulled a small brown envelope from his pocket and opened it.
“Don’t forget we’ve got this. It’s our treasure. We’ll get to see Queen Wilhelmina with this.”
He picked out a thin, blackened coin, which he rubbed with the sleeve of his jersey until the silver edges shone softly.
“That’s all v-very well, Jan,” muttered Pim. “But who’ll b-buy it? We don’t even know if it’s w-worth so much as sixpence.”
“Don’t be thick. Course it’s worth more than sodding sixpence. First off, it’s a piece of silver treasure. I showed you how old it was.
Regina
means Queen. This is a coin from the time of Queen Elizabeth. Whoever was king or queen was the one whose head they put on the money. Like now, it’s King George.”
Pim liked the King because he’d heard him speak on the radio, and he tended to stutter as well.
“Besides, the reason it’s so valuable is because they’s very, very scarce.”
Pim regarded him dubiously. “What if everybody thinks we s-stole it?”
Jan had read more books than his brother and he knew a lot about treasure. “You don’t bleeding well
steal
treasure, lummox. You
finds
it. Somebody else must have stole the frigging
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