The sky was grey, the school yard was grey, in fact everything was grey but there was still a definite buzz about the place. The excited chatter of children playing and skipping and laughing. The anticipation of the 'holiday'; the mass trip abroad… well, Yorkshire. Mothers and grandparents were tidying their children's hair for the last time, warning them to be good and kissing them repeatedly until they were being swatted away and left in favour of talking with friends about the unknown territory of the big, wide world 'outside London'. The children were far too busy to notice the rivers of unshed tears storing up behind their mothers' eyes.

Vince Noir, was one such child, his mum was still pulling at his shirt and buttoning the last few buttons right up to the collar but he was struggling to get away as he saw his best friend Leroy across the yard. It seemed like everyone he knew was here, all to wave them off on their new holiday and he was so excited he could barely keep still long enough for his mother to talk to him.

"Now, you listen to me." His mother was saying, staring intently at her son, "you be good for the people you stay with, understand? You always say please and thank you and don't you cause any trouble. Okay? Vincent. Listen to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Vince sulked, digging the toe of his shoe into the gravel.

"Don't mess your shoes about like that. Now, you've got a biscuit and a sandwich in your lunchbox and Nana made you that scarf for a reason, you keep that around your neck, y'here."

"Yes mum." he droned.

"Okay." she said, pulling him into a suffocating hug.

"Argh. Muu-uuum." he whinged. "People are looking."

"hmm. Oh. Sorry." she said, dabbing a handkerchief to her streaming eyes.

"Mum?" Vince asked softly. "Are you crying?"

"No." The woman said, shaking her head determinedly as another tear escaped down her face. "Of course I'm not crying." she chuckled lightly. "You have a great time on holiday, okay."

"Okay mum." Vince promised.

"And be good."

"I will. Can I go and see Leroy now?"

"Yes." his mum gasped and with that he pushed his was through the throng of children to where Leroy and another boy were playing stick and hoop.

His mother waved as he ran away but he didn't look back. She sobbed a little into her handkerchief. She hated this war. Her husband was somewhere on the front line and her son was about to be taken from her as well. She felt her own mothers hand, soft on her arm.

"He'll be safer this way."

"I know," his mother sobbed, "I know."

--

Vince sat by Leroy on the bus and then on the train and they played a game called spot the animal. Vince whooped in delight when he was first to see a cow.

"Look!" He cried, "an actual cow!"

"And there's a sheep." Leroy chipped in as they passed field after green field. Vince couldn't help think how weird it was seeing all this shrubbery flashing past the window. He'd never seen so much grass before. Think of the football they could play.

"D'you think we'll go on holiday to the same place Leroy?" Vince asked.

"We're not going on holiday you berk."

"Wh-what?"

"Our parents have sent us away because it's too dangerous for us to stay in London."

"Too dangerous in London?"

"Yeah, with all the bombs."

"So are our parents getting to leave too?"

"Don't be daft." Leroy scorned. "It's just the kids because we're the future, init?"

Vince's eyes grew wide. "But what about my mum and Nana."

"What about them?" Leroy shrugged. "They're not the future. We are. Look around you. You didn't really think that every child in south London was going on holiday together, did you? It's a war Vince. It's all about training us up and getting us ready for war."

"But I don't wanna go to war." Vince mumbled.

"Tough." Leroy said, all men go to war. "It's something to do with a game of draughts. If you win you go to war, lose you stay at home. My dad lost. That's why he's still at home."

"You couldn't have it more wrong." scorned the oldest boy on the trip. "It's a draft system, not a game of draughts and your dad's still at home because he's a scummy draft dodger. My mum said he feigned injury just so he couldn't go. You're dad's the lowest of the low."

"You take that back." cried Leroy, leaping up on his chair and stretching to his full height.

"Make me." the boy grinned. Leroy did not need asking twice. He leapt at him and they both crashed to the floor in a muddle of flailing limbs. The boy caught Leroy on this chin with a well landed punch and Leroy kicked and scratched with all his might until a woman came along and dragged them apart.

"Look at you two." she shrilled, "You're acting like a couple of animals. Steven. You sit down that end of the carriage. Leroy the other end. I don't want to hear another word from either of you. Got it?"

The two boys nodded and slumped solemnly to their respective ends of the carriage.

Vince let out a long sigh. This was going to be a long trip and now all he could do was worry about his mum and his Nana.

--

"Howard." Mrs Moon called up the stairs. "Come on sweetheart. We have to go and pick up one of the evacuees."

"But why?" Howard moaned. They'd had this argument about a hundred times today.

"Because I promised reverend Carson that'd we'd take a child."

"But I don't want to share my room." Howard sighed, pulling on his shoes and chasing his mother awkwardly down the pebbly cottage path. "It's not fair. Why can't they just stay in their own homes."

"Because it's very dangerous in London." Mrs Moon explained carefully, eyeing her gangly teenage son warily as he came up with grumble and gripe after another.

"Look." she snapped as they got close to the village hall. "I don't care what you think Howard. It's a war and in a war it's up to everyone to pull together. Now, whoever we have stay with us for a while you will make him of her feel very welcome. Do you understand?"

Howard nodded, dipping his head a little. He was almost a man, well, in a few years time, he hated it when his mother told him off.

"Good." she seemed satisfied. "Now, come on."

Howard followed his mother silently into the village hall and gasped out loud when he saw the melee inside. There were children everywhere. Some shouting and playing, other's sat nervously on the scarcely available seats. Most were scattered on the floor. Each had a small suitcase, a gas mask and a label around their neck.

He leant over and read one;

Name: Abigail Greenwood
Age: 6
Address: 32 Fern Crossing, London
Medical: Asthma.

He looked at the girl. She was a grubby little thing, with dirty blonde plats tied with pink ribbon.

"Hi." she whispered, a small smile showing a gap where her front tooth should have been.

"Hi." he whispered back. He couldn't comprehend what that girl must be going through, six years old, ripped away from his mother with no idea what was happening. He wanted to tell her it would be okay but he didn't know. He couldn't lie to her. He walked away and found his mum quickly.

"A boy if possible Reverend." she was saying. "He's going to have to stay in Howard's room so maybe one of about Howard's age."

"I don't think we evacuate children as old as Howard."

"I'm a young man now." Howard said proudly.

"Act like it then." his mother snapped. She was stressed and Howard knew he wasn't helping.

"I tell you what," the reverend said, "I'll try and round up a few of the older boys and you can choose from them."

"That sounds great. Thank you." Mrs Moon smiled exasperatedly.

"There's a little girl over there." Howard hissed "I think we should take…" but as he looked over he saw an elderly couple called Mr and Mrs Smithe take her with them. "Never mind." he sighed turning around to see his mum inspecting a group of boys that looked like they'd been raised on the streets. They were all filthy, blackened faces and messy hair. No wonder their parents were trying to get rid of them, he thought bitterly. He glanced at the closest boys label;

Name: Timothy Francis
Age: 13
Address: 21 Fortern St, London.
Medical: None.

It felt weird reading about these children. It was like they were lost property that the villagers were going to horde at home. As his mother carefully set about searching for the right boy, Howard decided to wander around the hall. It was buzzing with nervous and exciting chatter. All the kids looked terrified and a little desperate. He read label after label; Holly aged 10, Joshua aged 8, Vincent aged 14, Sarah aged 11, Hannah aged 13. Child after child, each one just as terrified as the last then he settled on a tiny boy with curly brown hair;

Name: Thomas John
Age: 9
Address: Cooks Rd, London
Medical: None

Howard thought he could probably put up with this kid. He looked cleaner than the others, he was small so he wouldn't take up much space and Howard was sure he was naïve enough that Howard could make him a personal slave in a few weeks.

He smiled down at Thomas and said;

"Come with me."

The little boy nodded obediently and followed Howard over to where Mrs Moon was still studying her options. Howard presented little Thomas to his mother.

"No, sorry darling. He's far too young."

"He's not he's perfect."

"He's not sweetheart. I want one of the older boys, you'd have nothing in common with this boy."

"I would." Howard insisted but he could feel he was losing the battle.

"Reverend." Mrs Moon said, "You don't have any other boys of this age, do you?"

"I really don't know. Have a look. I'm sure you'll find some."

"There's one down there." Howard pointed in the direction from which he'd just come. He's sat in amongst some of the really little kids. He looks about twelve but I'm sure his label said fourteen.

Mrs Moon wandered quickly in the direction Howard had pointed. Howard apologized to Thomas and the boy just shrugged and ran back to his seat. Just as the little boy settled on the floor again, Mrs Moon was dragging a dark haired boy to his feet.

"And you're not ill?" she was asking.

The boy shook his scruffy head, hair flying everywhere. He had too much hair, Howard noted, and not enough fat. He had pale skin but he was clean and there wasn't a blemish of dirt on him. He was dressed in brown shorts and a white shirt, just like all the other boys but there was something different about his outfit and it wasn't just the heavy, woollen scarf around his neck. He looked somehow neater than everyone else. His shoes were polished to mirror like shine and his shirt wasn't buttoned quite to the top, showing just the tiniest glimpse of pale white chest. Howard frowned. He looked like the sort of boy who'd star in West End Musicals, the snobby, bratty kind of kid.

"And you haven't got fleas?" Mrs Moon continued to berate him.

The boy shook his head again. "I'm clean as a whistle." he smiled.

"Right." she seemed satisfied, "You're coming home with me."

"Oh. Thanks you ma'am." he grinned, showing two rows of slightly crooked teeth.

"Right." Mrs Moon smiled, "This is my son Howard."

"Hello." the boy smiled.

"Hello." Howard repeated, holding out his hand to the smaller boy. He took it and they shook.

"My names Vince." said the small boy. "Vince Noir."

"We know darling." Mrs Moon said as she indicated to the Reverend that she'd chosen. "It's written on your label."

"Oh yeah." he chuckled, fingering the brown card. "Erm, is it okay if I write a letter when we get to your house. I want to let my mum and Nana know that I'm okay."

"That's fine. Then Howard will help you unpack. You're going to be staying in his room."

Vince nodded cheerfully. This was exciting, new place, new house, new friends and fields. He still couldn't get used to the amount of green that surrounded them.

--

"This is my room." Howard said huffily. "Make yourself comfortable I guess. There's a desk over there, some paper and pens if you want to write your letter. And I've cleared out the bottom draw for your stuff."

"Oh Thanks." he smiled.

"No problem. Mum's cooking tea now so… when you're ready just pop down."

"Thanks. Erm, Howard?" Vince stammered nervously."Yeah."

"Where's the toilet?"

Howard pointed him in the right direction and Vince thanked him again. Howard went downstairs. He didn't really like sharing this house with a stranger. The boy was strange. He looked constantly like he was fighting down a choking feeling.

Vince looked into the mirror and washed his face carefully with a flannel. He didn't want to cry. He would not cry. He'd lost Leroy at a station over an hour ago. He'd watched him get taken from the train and handed over to a woman with curly grey hair. He'd waved as the train pulled off and looked around the half empty carriage. He hadn't known anyone else. He'd been completely alone since then. The other boys had spoken about the war. They were all desperate to serve their country to be heroes like their dads. Vince wasn't. He saw how upset his mum was after his dad had gone to war. He saw how poor they were, how weak his old Nana had become. He'd wanted to stay at home for a while. He'd begged not to leave. His dad, before he'd gone to the front line, had made him promise to be the man of the house. How could he do that when he was miles away from his house? But his mum had told him he didn't have a choice. She told him he had to go and she told him he'd enjoy himself. She'd said it would be like a lovely holiday.

Vince wiped the tear tracks from his cheek. He didn't want the family that had taken him in to see him crying. They seemed nice enough. Mrs Moon was chatty and pleasant. She was plump and wore a flowery pink dress, which had been patched up in several places. She smelt faintly of lavender and Vince thought she looked motherly but she wasn't his mother. His mother was thin, like him, and bony. She always wore brown and her hair scraped back into a pony tale. She was strict because she'd brought Vince up on her own a lot. Ever when Vince's dad was home from war he was hardly actually at home. He spent the majority of the weekdays working and the weekends drinking but that had never stopped Vince idolising his father. He wondered what Howard's father was like.

He left the bathroom and rushed to Howard's room. It was empty. He unpacked his suitcase and put the clothes in the bottom draw. He only had a couple of trousers and a few shirts and a note book to draw in. He pushed them all into the draw and went to the desk. He picked up a pen and chewed it thoughtfully.

Mum,

I'm fine. I've seen lots of fields and real live cowz. It waz so strange. The trane journey was long and bumpy. I felt a bit sick by the time we got off. It's really cold hear. Tell Nana I haven't tooken the scarf off and my nek is warm and cozy.

I'm staying with Mrs Moon. She's nice. She's got a sun caled Howard. He's older than me but he seems nice two. I think we'll be frends.

I'll right soon.

Love you and Nana,
Vince

Just as he finished his letter a tear dropped fell on to the bottom of the paper. No, he whispered desperately trying to dry to droplet. He didn't want his mum to think he'd been crying. He wanted to be strong for her. He dabbed at it frantically with a tissue. Then, he heard a cough behind him.

"You okay?" Howard's voice asked.

Vince nodded but he didn't turn around.

"Finished?"

The small boy nodded again.

"Okay. Tea's ready."

"Thanks."

Howard nodded, though he wasn't sure why and turned to leave as he began to walk away he heard a stifled sob. He thought about ignoring it but he couldn't.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, turning back towards the shaking boy. The mop of black hair nodded again but the older boy wasn't convinced.

"Do you want to… erm, talk about it or something?" he asked tentatively.

"No." Vince choked.

Howard frowned. "Erm, okay." As he got down the corridor he heard Vince walking behind him. He looked back and forced a smile. The Londoner smiled back weakly.

They sat down at the table in silence. There were three small meals on the table.

"There you are Vincent. Eat up." smiled Mrs Moon.

"Thank you." he said, taking his knife fork and cutting the potatoes carefully. He didn't feel hungry but he popped the food in his mouth and chewed.

"So. Was it a good trip up?"

"Yes Ma'am. I saw my first cow."

Howard's eyes flicked to the strange boy but he stayed silent. He didn't know what to say in this situation. It was all very uncomfortable and awkward.

"You've never seen a cow before sweetie."

Vince shook his head and took another bite of potato.

"Oh." Mrs moon smiled kindly, "Maybe tomorrow Howard could take you down to the farm. Do you like animals Vincent?"

"Yes."

"There you are Howard. You'll take Vincent to the farm tomorrow, wont you?"

Howard looked from Vince to his mother and sighed. "I guess." he said.

'Good boy' she mouthed at her son and then to the evacuee she continued, "Did you finish your letter to your mother?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Howard can take you to the post office after tea then." Vince looked up at the other boy who rolled his eyes and looked fixatedly on his own food.

"Howard!" his mother said sternly.

"What?" he asked.

"You'll take Vince down to the post office, won't you?"

"Yes." he sighed.

Vince's gut clenched a little. Howard didn't really seem to like him much. It was strange. He'd been nice earlier when they were alone. That was something Vince had to get used to over the next few months.