Lilli's Quest. Lila Perl

but it’s a healthy place and you’ll be safe from the bombs Hitler is sure to drop on our towns and cities.”

      When the refugee officer asked if she accepted the offer to go and live with the Rathbones, Lilli readily answered, “Yes,” in English. Her belongings were removed from the Army truck and tossed into the open back of the Rathbones’ farm vehicle, which was filled with straw, chicken feathers, and numerous egg crates.

      Twilight is beginning to descend when Mr. Rathbone drives off the unpaved road, lined with hedgerows, into an even narrower one. Soon the farmhouse and its surroundings come into view. At first, the snuggling house, built of rough stone and topped by a roof of thatch, reminds Lilli of pictures in the German storybooks she read when she was small. For Lilli, who has lived in a city all her life, the image of a country cottage has always been a romantic one. So she is startled when she steps from the truck into a slab of thick mud, toward which chickens come running from all directions, accompanied by the barking of two large dogs. For a moment, Lilli wonders if, like Alice in the book she has been reading, she has fallen into a rabbit hole.

      “That’ll teach you, my lady,” says the burly Mr. Rathbone with a basso laugh. “Have you never been on a farm before?” Mrs. Rathbone doesn’t wait for an answer, hurrying Lilli—who struggles to retrieve her suitcase and backpack from the truck—along impatiently. “It’s already late for tea, and we’ll have an early night for certain,” Mrs. Rathbone mutters seemingly to herself.

      Lilli follows her hostess out of the filthy yard and up a pathway of half-sunken paving stones to the farmhouse entrance. Framed in the doorway stands a small, roly-poly boy, with the broad Mongolian features of a child born with a defect. He appears to have been crying, his knotted fists still rubbing at his eyes. But he lights up at the sight of Mrs. Rathbone, reaching to grasp her about the hips.

      “Have you been a good little son while we were away?” asks Mrs. Rathbone, already rushing past him to get the “tea” ready. “Look, Tim,” she points to Lilli, “we’ve brought you a sister.”

      Lilli learns that the Rathbones’ farmhouse, with its stone floors and tiny windows, has no electricity or running water. It is also revealed to her—thankfully—that “tea” in working-class England can also mean supper. She has been terribly hungry for a long time now.

      Sitting at the rough wooden table in the kitchen that is also part sitting room, Lilli partakes with Tim and the Rathbones of bread, cheese, pickles, and scalding cups of strong dark tea. She is offered sugar lumps but warned that, with the war on, she must restrict herself to no more than two.