The Light Over London

by Julia Kelly

“Louise stayed with her battery for almost the entire war. One of the girls, Mary, married her childhood sweetheart while he was on leave and became pregnant almost immediately. She was discharged—it was called going ‘para eleven’ because paragraph eleven was the part of the ATS handbook that dealt with pregnancy—but most of them stayed together. It was unusual, and I think that unit held Louise together in those early years after Paul’s death.”

  “Do you know what happened to the other girls after the war?” Cara asked.

  “I do, actually,” said Kate. “Vera, the posh one, refused to move home and do the charitable work her mother expected of her. Instead, she got a job as the assistant to an architect and enrolled in the engineering program at Imperial College London.”

  “Good for her,” murmured Cara.

  “I always liked Louise’s letters about Charlie the most,” said Kate. “Charlie talked her way into a job at an advertising agency, and she’d write Lou with stories about martini lunches and the men who took her out dancing in London. It was all very glamorous.

  “The quiet one, Nigella, married an American GI and moved to Illinois.”

  “A GI bride,” said Cara. Just like her gran, except Granddad had stayed in England.

  “What about Lizzie?” Liam asked.

  “Well, Lizzie caused a bit of a scandal,” said Kate. “She and one of Lou’s section had a wartime fling. His name was Walker or Warner or . . .”

  “Williams?” Liam asked.

  “That’s the one. When his captain found out, they all thought Lizzie would be reassigned, but it was Williams who was transferred. The gunner girls were too valuable to lose. She went back to Newcastle after the war and took over her mother’s boardinghouse,” said Kate.

  “And what about Louise?” Cara asked. “She mentioned a man named Cartruse a lot.”

  “What a romantic notion, and one I had myself at the time,” said Kate with a laugh. “She was always coy about Cartruse, and I think he would’ve been happy if she’d paid him any attention, but Louise wasn’t interested in any man for a long time. It took her years to rebuild that trust.

  “After the war ended, she stayed on as long as she could before the ATS demobbed her. Then she stayed with me for a spell in forty-six to help when I was pregnant with Laurel.”

  “Do you know why Lenora Robinson had Louise’s diary?” Cara asked.

  “Just before Laurel was born, I caught Louise on the way to the village post office where her father worked. She had a box all packaged up, and when I asked her about it, she said it was just some unfinished business from the war. I always wondered what was in it,” said Kate.

  “And you think she sent Lenora the things in the tin?” she asked.

  “I think it’s entirely possible. Lou wanted a clean break, but I could see why it would be almost too difficult to just throw those things away. Plus, one of them belonged to Lenora,” said Kate.

  “What was that?” Liam asked.

  “A compass. Lenora’s brother was a soldier, and he’d been carrying it on him when he was killed. I guess Lenora gave it to Paul, and Paul gave it to Louise.”

  Jock had been right about the compass then.

  Laurel bustled through the door with a tray for tea. “You haven’t told them all the good bits while I was gone, have you, Mum? It took ages to order tea.”

  “I wouldn’t dare, sweetie. I was just catching them up on what happened to Louise before the end of the diary they found. Now they’re asking about after the war,” said Kate.

  “Ah, my aunt’s great escape to America,” said Laurel, pouring out cups and handing them around.

  “She went to America?” Cara asked, her spirits lifting.

  Kate’s thin, birdlike shoulders drew back proudly. “Louise Keene became the first member of my family to graduate from university. She attended the University of California, Los Angeles, class of fifty-one.”

  “California,” Cara and Liam said at the same time.

  “Yes. She wanted to start over. All of us did, I think—Louise just went farther than most,” said Kate. “She received her degree in maths—or math, I suppose they call it there. She went on to teach undergraduates at one of the local colleges.”

  “I remember she would call every Christmas and on Margaret’s and my birthdays,” said Laurel. “Long distance. It was so exciting having an aunt in the States, even if we didn’t really know her.”

  “Did she ever come back to Haybourne?” Liam asked.

  “Only for her parents’ funerals in fifty-four and sixty-three. Her father passed first,” said Kate.

  “Do you think she was happy?” Cara asked.

  Kate tilted her head as though considering this. “I don’t really know. Louise changed after the war. She held her cards close to her chest, and we never talked like we used to, but I’d like to think she found something in California.

  “There was a man. Tim. They met her first day at UCLA. I used to ask when she called the girls whether she and Tim were going to marry, but she always just laughed and told me to stop being so romantic. Knowing Louise, they might well have been married for years and never told us back in England.”

  “Why wouldn’t she tell you?” Liam asked.

  “We knew the old Louise,” said Kate, shrugging.

  “She wanted to leave that all behind and start fresh,” said Cara, a deep understanding settling over her.

  “And she did,” said Kate.

  Cara and Liam stayed only until they finished their cups of tea, because it was clear Kate was flagging. When they stood up to go, Kate beckoned Cara over to her bed. Cara stooped to lean in low.

  “I hope that whatever you’re looking for, you’ve found,” said Kate.

  Cara bit her lip. She had so many questions that were still unanswered.

  Kate’s eyes crinkled, and the old woman said, “My cousin rarely spoke of what happened during the war, but when she did, she never mentioned any regrets. I think she made her peace with what happened, put it behind her, and made a new life for herself. All in her own time.”

  And just like that, Cara understood where Gran was coming from. Somehow this visit had given Cara a peace she hadn’t known in a long time. It was wrapped up in Kate’s reassurances about Louise’s happiness, a promise that even when things seem the darkest, the light is waiting to shine again.

  “Would you like to keep the diary?” Cara asked. “One of the reasons I wanted to figure out who wrote it was so that I could return it to its rightful owners.”

  Kate patted her hand. “You found it. It’s yours now.” Cara started to straighten, but the elderly woman tugged her hand again and said in a whisper, “If I were you and I had a man who looked at me the way your Liam looks at you, I’d be a very happy woman both in and out of bed.”

  Cara stepped away, blushing fiercely, as Kate gave a little tired laugh and said her goodbyes to Liam.

  Out in the car park, Liam asked, “Do you want to walk a bit? There was a sign for the coastal path just before we turned off the road.”

  She nodded, and they walked in silence until the noise of passing cars was lost over the wind and the crashing waves against the cliff face below.

  “How are you feeling now that you know everything?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Betrayed by what Paul did to Louise and hurting for her, but happy that she rebuilt her life.”

  “Do you know, I think she was lucky,” he said, stopping at a bench along the path and sitting down.

  “Why is that?” she asked, taking the spot next to him.

  He squinted out to the distance. “It’s the loneliest feeling in the world when someone betrays your trust, but she had her gunner girls. They helped her through it.”

  “You were lonely after your engagement ended.”

  “Yes, and I closed myself off to everything. I wanted to wallow. I was as pigheaded as they come.”

  And so was I. She’d left her life behind, cutting ties wit
h London and leaving almost everyone except Nicole and Gran behind. She’d isolated herself, but Louise had helped her come back into the world. She was rebuilding her home, her career, her life. And now, sitting next to this man on a bench on the cliffs of the northern Cornish coast, she couldn’t help the spark of belief that she was creating something entirely new.

  “Cara, there’s something I think you need to know, but I’m not sure I’m the one who should tell you,” he said.

  “Who should?” she asked.

  “Iris. It’s about her service. I don’t think she’s been honest with you about what she did during the war, but I don’t know why.”

  She nodded.

  “It might not be important, but I’m finding I don’t like keeping things a secret from you,” he said, taking her hand. It was an overture, an unspoken question of whether she trusted him or not. She shifted closer to him on the bench until they sat leg to leg.

  “If it’s not your secret to tell, I understand,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

  He blew out a breath. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll go see her when we get back. It feels like it’s time for all of this to end,” she said.

  They sat there like that for a few minutes, enjoying the weak, late-autumn sunshine in silence, until Liam stirred. “It’s nearly time for lunch. Shall we head back?”

  She nodded and pulled out her keys. Her thumb brushed over the raised letters of Granddad’s dog tags. She glanced down at them, just as she had countless times before, but this time something made her pause. Maybe it was Liam mentioning secrets, or maybe it was just that, with Louise’s mystery solved, she could see things clearly now. Either way, her brain clicked over, more puzzle pieces slotting into place.

  “Liam, we need to get back to the hotel,” she said in a rush, shooting to her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” His hand went to her waist as though to steady her.

  She shook her head. “I need to see Gran’s medical records. The ones we found in the safe.”

  He didn’t question her, just hurried back with her to the car park and drove straight to the hotel. In the lift, she fidgeted, running her thumb over the dog tags again and again. When the doors dinged open, she already had her room key out of her pocket.

  As soon as she unlocked the door, she went to her purse. Liam had teased her the day before about the size of it, but she’d felt compelled to bring everything they’d found with her—including Gran’s files and the wooden box.

  She spread the paperwork out on her bed. There, printed innocuously at the top of the medical record next to Iris Warren’s name, was her blood type. B. Cara laid Granddad’s dog tags on top of the records. The single “B” that recorded Granddad’s blood type shouted out the truth to her.

  “What are you seeing that I’m not?” Liam asked.

  A little breathless as her whole world shifted, Cara said, “Gran’s blood type is B. Granddad’s blood type is B.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “When Mum was in the crash, the surgeons at the hospital tried to save her. They transfused her. She had type-A blood. I don’t remember much from my biology classes, but I do remember being made to do Punnett squares to figure out possible genetic combinations for a child. Two B-type parents can’t have an A-type child. It’s impossible.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “So you’re saying . . .”

  “Mum wasn’t Granddad’s daughter. At least not biologically. Liam, I need to go see Gran.”

  This was what the fight between Mum and Gran had been about. Cara knew it with absolute certainty.

  “I’ll go tell the hotel we’re checking out early,” Liam said.

  She was already moving to her suitcase when he stopped and came back to her. He cupped her jaw, tilting her face, and kissed her. Her whole body buzzed with the reassurance of that kiss.

  When he pulled back, he nodded and without another word went to sort things out with the hotel.

  24

  CARA

  It was after eight when Cara and Liam arrived, unannounced, at Widcote Manor. No one was at the front desk, so they walked straight through to the lifts.

  Now, standing in front of Gran’s door with the weight of decades of secrets on her shoulders, Cara hesitated. Liam stroked a hand down her spine, letting it rest on the small of her back. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I’m about to accuse my Gran of having an affair and passing off my mum as Granddad’s daughter,” she said.

  “No one’s family’s perfect,” he said.

  When Gran answered the door, she was dressed in a pair of silk lounging trousers and what looked like a modified man’s smoking jacket.

  “Well, this is a lovely surprise! I thought you were both in Cornwall,” said Gran.

  “We were. We just drove up,” said Cara.

  “Well, come in, come in! You two must be exhausted,” Gran said, ushering them in. “Claire from down the hall baked a cake today, and she left the entire thing here after tea. She said she didn’t want the calories tempting her, even at eighty-one. I’ll just put on some tea.”

  It was strange, Gran pottering about happily while Cara knew that she was about to change everything.

  Cara slanted a glance at Liam, and he nodded. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong enough to do this, because she needed to know. Needed to hear Gran tell her the truth.

  “Gran, could you come back for a moment?” said Cara.

  “I’m just putting the kettle on, dear,” Gran called.

  “Gran, please.”

  Gran’s low-heeled mules clattered from kitchen tile to hardwood as she reappeared. “What is it, Cara?”

  “I know.”

  For a beat, Gran stood still, a tea towel hanging from her hands. Then, slowly, she sank down onto the sofa. “How?”

  “Your medical records and Granddad’s dog tags,” Cara said.

  “I don’t understand,” said Gran.

  “You and Granddad both had type-B blood. Mum was type A.”

  Gran shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe after all this time—”

  “I’m not angry,” Cara said softly. “And I’m not going to judge you.”

  Gran gave a strangled laugh.

  “I’m not,” Cara insisted. “I just want to know what happened.”

  She wanted the full story, just as she had with Louise and the diary. But with Louise’s story it had been about the mystery and the responsibility to another family. With Gran it was deeper, more personal. This was Cara’s own family history, and it was time to pull the secrets from the dark into the light.

  “I’ve never told anyone,” said Gran with a shuddering breath.

  “I can leave if that makes it easier,” said Liam.

  “No, you might as well stay. You know this much already,” said Gran, hugging a pillow to her stomach.

  “Why don’t you start with telling us what you really did during the war,” Liam said.

  Gran looked up sharply. “How did you find out?”

  “I recognized the name Fenny Stratford. If you were billeted there, it was a logical jump that you would’ve worked in the area. I had a friend look into your service record, which confirmed it.”

  Gran rolled her shoulders back as though preparing for a speech. “Cara, when I joined the ATS, we were required to undergo a series of aptitude tests. I tested as having a high aptitude for word puzzles. I was requisitioned by the Government Code and Cypher School and made to sign something called the Official Secrets Act. Do you know what that was?”

  “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know why,” she said.

  “Yes, well, it was in the press a few years ago because of that film about Alan Turing. The Official Secrets Act meant that I had to promise I wouldn’t talk about my war work for my entire lifetime. People took it very seriously. I never told anyone. Not my parents, not your mum.” Gran cleared her throat. “I was one of the women working at Bletchley Park. I was as
signed to one of the huts taking down intercepted radio signals from German operators.”

  “You were in intelligence?” Cara asked.

  “I was.”

  “The files of those in Bletchley Park were declassified in the seventies. You’ve been allowed to talk about what you did for decades. Why remain so secretive about it?” Liam asked.

  “Is it so hard to believe that I felt it my duty to keep a secret that won us the war?”

  “Gran . . .” Cara said softly.

  “I’m sorry, Liam.” When Gran lifted her chin, her eyes shone with tears. “The Official Secrets Act was also convenient for me because I had something else to hide. While I was at Bletchley, I had an affair with my superior officer.”

  “The man in the photographs,” Cara said.

  “Edwin was extraordinary. He was plucked out of Oxford as soon as it looked as though there would be a war and was trained to manage teams of brilliant minds. He was charismatic and we were all devoted to him, but I was the one who went a step too far. I knew he was married. I knew that what we were doing was wrong, but I didn’t care. I was young and silly and thought I deserved my own happiness.”

  “You did. You do,” said Cara.

  “Not at the expense of another woman. He’d been married for nearly seven years when I met him, and he had three children. And still, I thought I could give him something that his wife couldn’t.”

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Adoration. Youth. Take your pick. It’s foolish, but I was hardly more than a child at that point,” said Gran. “The affair lasted almost a year, until the spring of forty-five.”

  “What happened?” Cara asked.

  “I became pregnant. I thought he would leave his wife when he found out—all of us other women always think that. I told him on VE Day.”

  “Oh, Gran . . .”

  “I know,” said Gran with a little laugh. “I don’t think I can even blame it on the excitement of the day. I was so madly in love with him, but he was never going to leave his family or his position. It would’ve meant serious consequences for his career.

  “So I did the only thing I could think of. I turned to a sweet American soldier who’d been hanging about for months.”