13th May 1940 7:45 hours

The vicarage telephone rings just before 7.45am. When the Reverend Peter Simpson leaves his tea and toast to answer, he hears the voice of his son-in-law, Henk van de Laan. This is unusual, but the times are unusual. Henk says that he has to hurry. He has arrived in the North of England and has to be elsewhere soon, but Betty and little Sophie are coming across to England as soon as possible. There has been a delay because Sophie was sick, but Peter is not to worry. Please would he be ready to receive his daughter and grandchild when they arrive? Of course, he would be delighted. When? Where? Henk’s answers are elusive, but please would Peter and Mary be ready. Someone will let them know.

Peter turns on the wireless. The Netherlands is in a state of emergency. British forces have gone to the aid of the Dutch, while Nazi invasion forces are making inroads from the East. Peter calls upstairs, ‘Mary, I’m popping over the road for a minute.’ He crosses the lane, enters the welcoming coolness of the ancient church, and lights a candle.

At the same time, in a small house not far from the naval base in the north of Holland, Betty van de Laan has tried to pack everything that she and Sophie will need for the journey across the North Sea.

She has stored things that she cannot take with her into boxes which are now hidden in the roof, and given the rest to her friend and next-door neighbour Lotte, another Royal Netherlands Navy wife.

‘Be sure to remove the English labels, just in case,’ Betty tells her. Lotte nods. She will, and she will probably dispose of anything else that is English. Neither of them has slept much, the night being punctuated by the sound of aeroplanes and distant explosions.

Baby Sophie is feeling better now and is enjoying this new game without understanding what is going on. ‘We mustn’t forget Teddy Bear, and Pink Mouse,’ says Betty, thankful that the golden-haired bear that Grandma in England bought is small and easy to carry. She gives the house key to Lotte who has agreed to keep an eye on things. Like next door, the house belongs to the Navy, along with most of the furniture.

Lotte asks, ’What time are you being picked up?’

‘Eight o’clock.’ Suddenly, Betty feels the weight of events pressing in on her and is glad of a hug.

‘What have you had to eat?’ says Lotte. ‘Come next door, there is time.’

There is coffee, milk for Sophie, rolls and butter, cheese and ham, but Betty finds it hard to eat. She has packed a bottle containing water and a comforter, just in case, along with Sophie’s potty and as many nappies as she can stuff into the holdall. Otherwise, she has grabbed a few oddments of food and drink and hopes they will find more on the way. Her suitcase bulges with as many clothes as she can get into it, along with photos removed from their albums. In her handbag, in the soles of her shoes, and the lining of her coat are the guilders that Henk withdrew from the bank. She is glad of the long coat this chilly morning, although the early sun promises a fine day.

Sophie seems to be recovered from the German Measles which has kept them here for too long. The doctor said, ’The best thing about the Germans is their Measles.’ Luckily it has not been the worst type of ailment.

At two minutes to eight they hear a car outside. There is for a quick embrace with Lotte and ‘Good luck, Keep in touch when you can,’ The driver piles the suitcase and holdall into the back. He is dubious at first about the folding pram, but installs it along with Betty and Sophie.

Sophie looks excited. ’We go to Papa?’

‘That’s right, darling,’ says Bette. The driver is anxious to leave.

Twenty kilometres down the road a plane roars overhead. They catch a glimpse of wings with the black-and-white crosses of the Luftwaffe as the driver swerves onto a track into dense woodland. Bullets spatter the road behind them. They wait an agonising ten minutes until all is quiet, then continue their journey southward. They have a rendezvous to keep not far from the port at Ijmuiden, where they are to join a large party of fellow refugees before making the crossing.

Further on, the road winds through fields full of colourful tulips. Sophie clutches Teddy and Pink Mouse as her eyelids droop, and eventually she dozes. After an hour or so, they turn into the wooded grounds of a large country house set in a formal, sheltered garden. Betty opens the window and takes in the scents of spring flowers. A small crowd of people is milling about anxiously with bags and suitcases. The driver says, ‘I leave you here now,’ and gets out. She wonders who is in charge. As she gets out of the car she asks the nearest person, a young man. He answers in an English voice: ‘That’s what we’d all like to know, darling.’

‘Mama,’ calls Sophie, trying to clamber out. Betty turns to carry her.

‘Isn’t she sweet!’ says a girl’s voice, and Betty realises that she is with a group of young people, well-dressed and having an air of glamour despite looking tired and strained. The girl says, ‘Where have you come from?’ but the young man cuts in.

‘All the way from near Arnhem. I can’t tell you my dear. It’s been simply awful. This is supposed to be a goodwill tour, can you believe it!’

Others nearby join in. They are from Sadlers Wells, on tour with the British Council. ‘It’s a joke,’ says another, ‘We’ve been shot at and almost blown up. We’re getting on a boat today. Let’s hope.’ He nods towards a woman with swept-up grey hair wearing a man’s dinner jacket over her coat. She looks exhausted. He nods in her direction, ’Ninette de Valois. That’s Margot Fonteyn talking to her.’ He gestures towards a beautiful, dark-haired young woman, slim and elegant. Like all the dancers, she looks weary, but she comes over, smiles at Betty and says, ‘How are you? Your little girl must be finding all this very strange.’ Sophie smiles at the nice lady and holds out her arms.

Before Betty can reply, a whistle blows and another English voice shouts from the portico steps, ‘Right now, everyone. Pay attention please. We need to sort out who’s who. All the Sadlers’ Wells people stand over there to the right, please. Everyone else over there.’ The speaker is a British Army officer.

‘The buses will be here any minute. The first two are for the Sadlers Wells Company. Everyone else, I’m coming to you now. It’s a matter of the space in the ships. So Bus 3 is for everyone except…’ he has a list. Most are detailed to the port at Ijmuiden, some must to further south. He turns to Betty. ‘Mrs van de Laan?’ You and Mrs Smith here, nodding to another woman nearby, are for The Hague.’

Their luggage has appeared at the side of the gravel drive and both the car and its driver have gone. Mrs Smith says, ‘Don’t worry, dear, let me help you,’ as they are directed towards a smallish, anonymous van that is waiting. The driver smiles at Sophie and explains that it is not as bad as it looks. There are blankets in the back and plenty of room for the luggage, even the folding pram. Before they leave, someone comes out of the house and distributes paper bags containing bread rolls with cheese to everyone. There is an apple as an extra for Sophie, and they are offered water and the use of a bathroom in the house. Inside, the rooms are carpeted with mattresses. Clearly, a great many people have spent the night here.

They pile into the back of the van. As they set off, Sophie is already enjoying the cheese, and Betty exchanges smiles with Mrs Smith. The coast road to the south passes by miles of sand dunes. From time to time they hear planes and distant explosions, and a column of thick, black smoke rises in the distance. Mrs Smith, who tells Betty to call her Gladys, says cheerfully, ‘Looks as if our boys have blown up the oil depot.’ Gladys has been working as a housekeeper for a family who believed that as a neutral country Holland would never be attacked.

As they reach the city outskirts, Gladys, says, ‘This must be The Hague. Can’t see why they think this is a good idea. We’re not visiting the Queen, are we?’ The driver stops at a telephone point, saying that he needs to check something. When he comes back he says, ‘It is as I thought it might be: we need not to go here. We must find you the boat at The Hook. Navy orders.’

‘That’s miles,’ says Gladys. Betty wonders how she will manage, seeing that Sophie is used to having the right meals at the right times, and regular naps. Gladys sees her concern. ‘It’s all right dear, I’ll give you a hand with the little one. I’ve got some chocolate in my bag.’

By now, Betty is tired, and she manages to sleep curled up in a blanket. A while later, she wakes up hearing someone singing and sees Gladys Smith holding Sophie and trying to teach her, ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,’ and Sophie is laughing and repeating, ‘Sunshine, sunshine!’ There is more distant gunfire inland, and again there are aeroplanes. This time they see the red, white and blue of RAF roundels on the wings.

It is now around mid-day. The driver is taking the coast road to avoid Rotterdam. He tells them to stay down on the floor.

‘This is a new game,’ Betty tells Sophie. ‘We pretend that we are moles under the ground.’ Sophie starts to cry. Gladys rummages in her bag for a chocolate bar and manages to distract Sophie while singing. Then, suddenly, all Betty can hear is the sound of the car’s engine overlaid by gunfire, shouting, and occasional swearing by the driver. ‘Bang!’ says Gladys trying to make a game of it, and Sophie joins in, ‘Bang bang!’ When Sophie tires of the game Betty holds her tightly until things quieten down.

‘We got through that all right,’ says the driver. ‘Not far to go now.’

13th May 1940 13.45 hours

At the Hook of Holland, two Royal Navy destroyers wait, their grey hulls dominating the docks, which otherwise seem almost deserted. It is approaching 3.00 pm and the Queen has not yet arrived. Two anonymous vans carrying, it is later understood, diamonds and gold have arrived, and their cargoes are now stowed on board. The sound of gunfire can be heard from Rotterdam and the officials standing on the dock are looking at their watches.

The sound of distant aircraft along the coast reaches them as a small van appears from behind some buildings and draws up on the quay. Two women clutching their handbags and a small girl holding a teddy bear are quickly helped out by the driver. He then unloads suitcases, holdalls, and a folding perambulator. A young officer holding a clipboard breaks away from the group standing on the dock.

‘Mrs Smith? Mrs van de Laan? Lieutenant Spinks. So glad you got here in time.’ He shakes hands briskly. ‘We’re waiting for just a few more passengers and then we’ll be off. High time.’ he adds, as there is another explosion, nearer this time, from the direction of the city.

At that moment two cars and another van arrive and their passengers are disgorged onto the quay: several gentlemen dressed in suits, a few in uniform, and an elderly lady wearing fox furs and a hat. And a quantity of luggage.

‘Oh my word,’ says Gladys, ‘Isn’t that the Queen?’

The officers who have been waiting cluster round the lady, and seem to be explaining something. Queen Wilhelmina looks around the dock, notices Betty, Gladys and Sophie, and says something.

Gladys says to Betty, ’We must look like a bunch of gypsies.’ The Queen beckons, so Betty grabs Sophie’s hand and they walk across. Betty is not sure what to do, but copies Gladys’s attempt at a curtsey.

Good evening, Ladies’, says the Queen, in English, ’You are coming to England too?’

‘Yes, Your Majesty,‘ says Betty, ’I hope to join my husband. He is an officer in Your Majesty’s Navy.’

‘Good,’ says the Queen, ‘And this is your daughter?’ Sophie beams up at her and says, ‘Sunshine, sunshine!’

‘We have to do what we can for the sake of the children,’ says Wilhelmina, then she is swept up the gangplank, followed by her entourage, and finally Sophie, Gladys and Betty. Lt Spinks carries the folding pram, a sailor carries the suitcases and they are on board HMS Hereward. Last of all is the driver, running and waving frantically, having paused just long enough to drive the van to the edge of the dock and push it into the sea.

At 15.00 hours the ship leaves, carrying the Queen of the Netherlands, unknown millions-worth of diamonds and bullion with her, and a large number of passengers including Sophie, Betty and Gladys Smith. A few minutes after HMS Hereward has left the quay, the second ship, which is still on the dock, is hit by a bomb as a plane swoops over. The passengers on board Hereward instinctively duck and there are a few screams. Betty clasps Sophie to her while Gladys for once is lost for words. HMS Hereward skirts as close to the land as she can, before heading out to sea. Sophie, after a light supper of cornflakes, biscuits and milk, sleeps in her pram. Betty and Gladys pretend they are not hungry and lie beside the pram on a small area of floor that is not occupied by someone else. After an anxious but smooth crossing on a calm sea, the ship docks at Harwich at around 7:00am.

In the grey of an early English morning they struggle down the gangway with the luggage and the pram, and see the Queen and her entourage whisked away in a fleet of black cars. They join a queue for their passports to be checked and to answer some questions. They are issued with gas masks, even one for Sophie. Betty does not know whether to be horrified or not. The ladies of the WVS are there with cups of tea and sandwiches. ‘Real English tea!’ says Gladys, ‘nothing like it.’ The arriving passengers are shown to a waiting bus which will take them to London. ‘Good old Blighty,’ says Gladys, and Betty agrees: even at war, England feels the best place to be. She has been thinking of Henk constantly since he left what used to be their home, with no idea of when they would meet again.

14th May 1940 8.55 hours

The Vicarage telephone rings again. ‘Hello Father-in-Law, I have news. Betty and the little one have arrived in Harwich and will be on a bus to London. They have money in gilders.’

Peter says, ‘Mary is already in London. She caught the first train she could yesterday and she is waiting in a hotel. I will let her know.’ The line is bad and he has to shout, ‘It’s the Hotel Albion in Bell Street, Bayswater. Mary will see that they get some rest and book them on all a train from Paddington. I’ll meet them at Exeter.’

15th May News headlines Rotterdam destroyed

Betty slowly comes to and realises where she is: her old bedroom in the vicarage. The events of the past few days are starting to blur in her mind, but some she will never forget. She will remember the people, the drivers who looked after them, her neighbour Lotte at home – except it is no longer home – , the Sadlers’ Wells dancers, and Gladys, who should be with her sister in Kent by now having promised to keep in touch. And the Queen of the Netherlands, who is probably safe inside Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle.

The curtains are glowing in the sunlight from outside. It must be late. Betty can hear Sophie’s voice and someone is coming upstairs. The bedroom door opens and Sophie climbs into the bed, snuggling down beside her. Her mother Mary appears with a tray.

‘Cup of tea for you, darling. Henk has telephoned. He is on his way to London and will ring again.’

Betty feels a sudden need to cry.