grin. ‘They had some good stuff in there.’
‘Harry! You stole it!’ cried Lisa.
‘They had plenty more to sell, they can spare this one for me...’ he reached into his pocket again, ‘and this for you.’ He handed her a string of blue beads. ‘Happy Christmas!’
It was a day to remember. They continued to walk up Piccadilly, pausing outside the Ritz to watch the wealthy going in for lunch. Ladies wrapped in furs on the arm of officers in uniform, sleek gentlemen in camel-hair coats handing their ladies out of taxis.
‘Toffs,’ said Harry dismissively. ‘Snobby toffs. Just like the Nazis.’
Comfortable in the anonymity of the crowded streets, Harry had been speaking in German. As he spoke a hand dropped on his shoulder, holding him in a vice-like grip.
‘You should be careful what you say, young guttersnipe.’ A tall man dressed in immaculately tailored civilian clothes towered over him and was addressing him in German. ‘You should be careful what you say about people who’ve taken you in and given you a home.’
‘You don’t know nothing about me,’ Harry answered with more bravado than he felt.
‘I know that you’re a refugee, young man. Speaking German; but anyone would know it. Just look at you! Look at your clothes! Ungrateful street kids like you should be sent back where you came from.’ The fingers tightened their grip on Harry’s shoulder, making him yelp with pain.
‘You let him go!’ shrieked Lisa. ‘He ain’t done nothing to hurt you.’
‘Well, little madam, you’re another of them! Out to pick our pockets, were you? Thieving?’ He eyed Harry’s silk neckerchief with suspicion. ‘I should get out of here pretty damn quick if I were you, before I call the police.’
At this moment the commissionaire stepped forward and said, ‘Is there some problem, Sir Edward?’
‘No, just some rude German children making nuisances of themselves.’ Sir Edward Marshway let go of Harry’s shoulder and, giving him a cuff round the ear that sent him staggering off the pavement, turned and walked into the hotel.
‘You kids better scarper,’ hissed the commissionaire. ‘Go on! Get lost.’
Harry picked himself up and the two of them edged away.
‘Typical Teddy Marshway,’ drawled a woman’s voice. ‘Likes to forget his mother was German.’ She had been speaking English, but both children understood most of what she’d said and turned round. A tall lady, wearing a black fur coat with a matching fur hat perched on her smooth fair hair, had paused beside them.
‘Take no notice of him,’ she said, seeing them turn. ‘He’s always been a bully.’ She reached into her handbag and extracted a florin. ‘Here,’ she said, holding it out, ‘expect you could use this. Happy Christmas.’
Harry snatched the coin and stuffed it in his pocket with a muttered, ‘Thanks, miss,’ and then grabbing Lisa’s hand, he set off up the road, leaving the disapproving commissionaire to open the door to the lady, saying, ‘Good day, Lady Meldon.’
Further along the road, Harry paused for breath and said, ‘One day I’m going to walk into that hotel and the bloke on the door is going to hold the door open for me.’
By mid-afternoon they had walked themselves to a standstill. They had found their way through Green Park to the top of The Mall and had stared up at the sandbagged front of Buckingham Palace.
‘D’you think the king’s at home?’ Lisa wondered. ‘I’d like to see the king.’
‘Not if he’s got any sense,’ Harry replied. ‘He don’t have to stay in London, do he? He’s got palaces all over the place.’
They kept walking and finally reached Trafalgar Square where they looked up at Nelson on his column, standing tall and proud against the sky.
‘Don’t rate much for his chances if the bombing really starts,’ said Harry. ‘They’ve boarded up the bottom, look, but that won’t be any good against a bomb.’
They wandered round the square, admiring