Stay Where You Are and Then Leave by John Boyne Page A

numbers.
    14278.
    â€œThere are so many soldiers coming back from the front with terrible injuries,” continued Margie. “And they need more nurses to look after them. I have to do my bit, Alfie. You can see that, can’t you? I’ve always wanted to find something I might be good at. Maybe this is it. I think about your dad and—” She stopped speaking for a moment and bit her lip, then shook her head, changing tack. “I can be of use, Alfie. You understand that, don’t you? The more people who are of use, the quicker the war will come to an end.”
    â€œThe war will never come to an end,” shouted Alfie, leaning forward in his seat now. “It’s going to go on forever. ”
    â€œThat’s not true,” said Margie. “It has to end one day. Wars always do. The new ones can’t start if the old ones don’t end,” she added, smiling a little, but Alfie wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Anyway, I’ve been offered six weeks’ training at the hospital and then a job after that—shift work unfortunately, so there’ll be a few changes around here for a while. You’re going to have look after yourself a bit more. You can do that, can’t you? Granny Summerfield is only across the road anyway if you want to go over there.”
    Alfie thought about it. He didn’t much like the idea of looking after himself. He wanted things to be back the way they used to be, when Georgie and Margie were looking after him, and Granny Summerfield was always stopping by for a bit of a gossip, and Old Bill Hemperton next door would rat-a-tat-tat on the door and give Alfie a ha’penny to go and fetch his paper for him, and Kalena Janá č ek was still his best friend and not a person of special interest and hadn’t been taken away for internment.
    â€œWe need the money, Alfie, that’s the truth of it,” said Margie when he didn’t say anything.
    â€œBut you’re already taking in washing,” said Alfie.
    â€œDon’t remind me. I’ll have to do all that in the middle of the day, between shifts.”
    â€œAnd when will you sleep?”
    â€œOh, I’ll sleep when I’m—” She stopped herself suddenly, her cheeks flushing scarlet. “I don’t have any choice, Alfie. Times are tight, you know that.” She hesitated and raised her voice in exasperation. “We don’t have any money, Alfie! We’re barely getting by as it is. Granny Summerfield has said we can go and live with her, but I won’t do that. This is our home, and while I have breath in my body I won’t take it away from you when you’ve already lost so many other things. Anyway, how am I supposed to keep you in sweets if I don’t work?” She smiled, hoping that he’d smile back.
    â€œI don’t need sweets,” said Alfie. “I can give them up. There aren’t as many now anyway. Almost none of the shops stock them.”
    â€œWe need food,” she said then. “Alfie, we’re perilously close to penury. Perilously close.”
    Alfie opened his eyes wide. He had no idea what perilously close to penury meant, but it didn’t sound good.
    â€œIf I go out to work, and take in Mrs. Gawdley-Smith’s washing, and maybe take a few extra night shifts, then we can eat. If I don’t, then we can’t. It’s as simple as that. Food doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”
    â€œIt does actually,” said Alfie. “Some of it. The rest grows in the ground.”
    Margie smiled and even laughed a little, which made Alfie happy. It had been a long time since he’d made his mother laugh. “Well, that’s true,” she said. “But you know what I mean.”
    In the end, they’d had a long talk about the hospital and the hours she would have to work, and Alfie promised that he wouldn’t get into any trouble and that he’d go to