One of the evacuee families that stayed with us were the Poes , (I’m not sure how the name was spelled). The parents stayed with us, and their two sons, quite a lot older than me, stayed with our next door neighbors. l don’t remember much about the boys, but Mr and Mrs Poe were my favorite visitors. As young as I was, l recognized that their station was far above my family’s. For one thing, Mrs Poe had nice-looking fingernails, longer and shiny, unlike my too-closely clipped and always grubby ones. She wore soft, silky blouses with a tweedy skirt and vest, and her voice was soft. I don’t know how my gran and my mother felt about her. Conversations were quiet and polite, and I remember that she spent a considerable amount of time in my grandfather’s chair beside the fire. She watched Mother knitting, and said she was happy when Gran swung the trivet over so that the kettle could boil for tea. Mr.Poe was my favorite . He always sat at the kitchen table working puzzles and crosswords, and let me watch and sometimes help him. He answered my questions and took me walking, through the garden and along the path to Granddad’s allotment. They got along well, and Mr Poe showed an interest in Granddad’s job as well, keeping our village lanes beautiful even though we were at war. Mr Poe said he liked fishing and wondered if he could fish the river that ran through the meadows. My grandmother didn’t respond to him, but next day at lunch he suddenly asked if I would like to go fishing with him. 1 took this to mean that the discussion about fishing had taken place while children were out of hearing. Now there was silence. Grandmother sipped her tea with a frown on her face and a glance at Mrs Poe, who sat at the end of the table dabbing her mouth with a cloth napkin, a new addition to our meal table since the Poes’ arrival. They stayed with us for some weeks, Mr Poe went fishing in the river. One day he invited me to go along, asking Mother and Gran if it was allowed. He gave me his creel to carry. I remember that it had a very long strap, and the basket bumped against my knees as we walked. We went to the river, all the way to the lock beside the Three Feathers pub and Mr Poe sat down on the grassy bank just below the lock. He settled his line into the water, and told me to watch his creel, and to be very, very quiet. After a time I felt bored and asked about how long it would be until he caught a fish. He spoke quite sharply, telling me to hush. He did catch a fish and showed it proudly, but my grandparents were not impressed. They thought that his fish was rough, and as a fisherman he should have known.. Mr and Mrs Poe left our house a few days later, and I found the fish, lying in the grass.