the shelves for treasure. Then her eyes fixed on Mr Sayers’ shovel. It was in the corner, leaning against the wall. She instantly recognised it, together with his old flat cap, resting on top of the handle. She felt a lump in her throat and fought to hold back tears. She hadn’t expected to react like this, but it upset her to see his things, forgotten and covered in spiders’ webs and dust.
‘Where’s the treasure, Sarah?’ Tommy whispered.
‘I’m not sure. It’s a bit too dark to look tonight, so let’s get some sleep and we can have a look in the morning when the sun comes up.’
‘Sleep in here? But, Sarah, it’s cold and I don’t like spiders.’
Sarah looked around and saw a pile of old newspapers. She picked one up and could just about make out the date. 1948. The last time she’d seen Mr Sayers. These must be his papers, the ones she used to read to him, she thought. Then she spotted a ball of string on one of the shelves.
‘Sit yourself down in this chair,’ she told Tommy, pulling an old deckchair forward and opening it. The stripy cloth looked worn, but she thought it would be a comfortable place for Tommy to rest. ‘Now don’t you worry about any spiders. You’re a lot bigger than they are so they’re more frightened of you than you are of them. Anyhow, spiders can’t hurt you.’
Tommy looked apprehensive but did as he was told, while she took sheets of the newspapers and scrunched them around his feet. Then using the scissors that had been with the string, she cut it into lengths and tied it around the paper. She rubbed his legs briskly.
‘There you go, your feet will be as warm as toast now,’ she told him.
‘What if Captain Hook comes back for his treasure and finds us here? He’ll make us walk the plank!’
‘Don’t be daft, have you seen any pirate ships round here? If there is any treasure, it’s been here for years and long forgotten by the likes of Captain Hook. I’m going to put some newspaper over you then I want you to close your eyes and get some sleep. We’ll have to be up really early in the morning.’
‘But what about you, where are you going to sleep?’ Tommy asked.
‘Right here, on the floor next to you.’
Once Tommy was covered with the paper, it didn’t take long for him to drift off. Sarah tried to make herself as comfortable as she could, but there was a terrible draught coming under the shed door. She felt something crawling on her face, and grimaced as she brushed off a bug. At least they were safe for tonight, but she couldn’t sleep as her mind churned with thoughts of the challenges she knew the daylight would bring. Tommy would wake up hungry, they were homeless and without a penny to their name. She wondered if Tommy would be better off in a children’s home. He’d get fed and watered, which was more than she could offer the child.
Her eyes focused again on Mr Sayers’s flat cap. Thinking about him seemed to give her comfort. He had cared for her, more than her own mother ever had. She’d loved him dearly and missed him. It had broken her heart when he’d died.
She eventually closed her eyes, and though it was cold in the shed, she found that she felt warm, and as if she was lying on soft feathers. ‘Goodnight, Mr Sayers,’ she whispered, feeling a strange sense that he was watching over her. It gave her courage and, before she gave in to sleep, Sarah decided her mind was set. She wouldn’t be separated from Tommy. Come what may, she’d make sure he wasn’t taken from her. She might not be able to give him a home and proper food, but she could give him all the love he needed, and that was something she knew he’d never get in an orphanage.
Sarah was already wide awake when the sun came up. By the time Tommy awoke, she’d had a rummage through the shed but had only found a few things that she thought may come in handy: the scissors and string, an old dark-grey utility blanket and, of course, Mr Sayers’s flat cap. It didn’t appear that anyone had been in the shed since Mr Sayers had died, so she didn’t think taking the small items was stealing. The garden tools might be worth a few bob, but then that really would be theft so Sarah decided to leave them. Best of all, she’d found an old tobacco tin filled with small lead soldiers. She’d left the tin hidden, but in a place where she knew Tommy would easily find it.
Tommy brushed off the newspapers and pushed himself up in the deckchair. ‘Can we look for the treasure now?’ he asked as he untied the string on his feet.
‘Good morning to you too!’ Sarah said with a small laugh. ‘Go on then,’ she added, ‘but make sure you keep the noise down.’
Tommy scrambled out of the chair and began mooching around. Dust filled the air and spiders ran for cover as he carefully moved things. Then, just as Sarah had anticipated, he found the tobacco tin, and gently shook it. The metal soldiers rattled inside, and Sarah smiled as Tommy gasped.
‘What do you think is in here?’ he asked excitedly.
‘I don’t know, it could be the treasure. Open it and find out.’
Tommy pulled the lid open and raised his eyebrows at what he saw. ‘Look, Sarah. These are so ’mazing,’ Tommy said as he studied the painted soldiers in their red coats and black hats.
‘Yes, they are. Well done for finding the treasure but now we have to sneak out of here. Put the tin in your pocket, there’s a good boy,’ Sarah said as she placed Mr Sayers’s flat cap on his head.
She peeked through the small shed window. There didn’t seem to be any movement from the house and all the curtains were still drawn. ‘Come on, Tommy,’ Sarah said and took him by the hand. She pushed open the creaky door to make a dash for the back gate and when they emerged from the back alley, they began wandering the streets of terraced houses.
‘Where are we going? I’m hungry,’ Tommy said as he dragged his feet.
‘How about a trip to Battersea Park?’
‘Can we have something to eat?’
‘Yes, later,’ Sarah replied, not knowing where their next meal would come from.
‘I’m cold, I want to go home.’
‘I told you, we don’t live with Mum any more. Here, this’ll keep you warm,’ she said, and wrapped the utility blanket like a cape around Tommy, securing it with a knot under his chin.
Tommy was beginning to lag, but as they turned the corner onto Battersea Bridge Road, Sarah noticed his mood suddenly perk up.
‘Sarah, Sarah … the bridge. Please can we go on the bridge and look down at the boats … please?’
She hadn’t planned on walking over the bridge, but it seemed it would be a welcome distraction for Tommy. ‘OK, but no throwing things over the side like you did last time.’
‘All right, I promise,’ Tommy said, and skipped ahead.
Sarah quickened her pace to keep up with him. Though he could see the boats through the Moorish-style latticing balustrades, he was almost tall enough to see over the top. She was nervous about him reaching too far and toppling into the Thames. ‘Hey, wait for me,’ she called.
Tommy stopped and began to jump up and down. ‘Pick me up, please, Sarah …’ he asked excitedly.
She wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist and held him up to look out along the river.
‘I wish we could go on a boat,’ Tommy said.
‘Maybe you will one day. You could sign up with the Navy and live on one of them big battleships.’
‘Nah,’ said Tommy, ‘I’d miss you too much ’cos you couldn’t come on the boat ’cos no girls would be allowed.’
Sarah affectionately squeezed Tommy and