by Diane Moody
Phillip stood. “I’m just down the hall in room 235, though I assure you my room is nothing like this. I’m going back over to your flat to make sure Mr. Grafton keeps an eye on it until daylight.”
“Do you need us to come with you?” Anya asked.
“Not me, I’m knackered.” Gigi fell onto the long sofa and propped her feet on the coffee table, careful not to spill her drink. “You can go, Anya.”
“There’s no need,” Phillip said. “I won’t be long. Oh, and I’ll stop by the desk downstairs and alert them to ring you should someone from the hospital call.”
“Phillip, how can we ever thank you for taking such good care of us?” Kate tried to stifle a yawn. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“It’s my pleasure. You all get some rest. I’ll stop by first thing in the morning.”
At half past eight the next morning, Phillip knocked on their door. He gave them time to freshen up and said he’d see them downstairs for breakfast in the hotel dining room. After they arrived and placed their orders, he told them he’d gone by the hospital to see Sybil.
Kate adjusted Joss on her lap. “How is she?”
“Despondent. The nurse told me she was still somewhat sedated, so I didn’t stay but a few minutes.”
Gigi set her teacup back on its saucer. “Does she know about the baby?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. She started to say something then broke down, so I just sat with her a while and let her cry.”
“She must be devastated,” Kate said. “It’s not just the loss of her child, but the horrible news from Jack.”
“It would have been easier if he’d died in the war.” Anya stiffened when she realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud.
“You’re right,” Kate said. “Death is much easier to accept than outright rejection. Especially the way it all happened.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have said it.”
“You only said what the rest of us were thinking,” Phillip added.
“Did they say when they’ll release her?” Gigi asked, waving for their waiter’s attention.
“The doctor wants to keep her for at least another night.”
“How did the house look?” Kate asked.
“There’s a lot more damage than I expected, to be honest. It’s mostly smoke and water damage, which means the place will smell pretty bad for quite some time. Mr. Grafton plans to hire a crew to clean it up and salvage what they can, but with the holidays, it might be a while before they begin. I told him you all are welcome to stay here until it’s ready.”
“Phillip, we couldn’t possibly stay here that long,” Kate said.
“Are you daft?” Gigi balked. “This is the lap of luxury compared to that smelly old flat. So yes, Phillip, we’ll stay as long as we can. In fact, when your boss comes back, he can just bunk down the hall with you.” She tossed him a wink and flashed him her brightest smile.
Anya shook her head, too tired to argue. The waiter returned to refill their drinks. He assured them their food would be out straight away.
“I have to ask,” Phillip began, “and I apologize because it’s an awkward question any way you look at it. Do you think it will be difficult for Sybil to stay here in the same suite with you?” He nodded at Joss who was still sound asleep.
“Oh,” Anya said. “I see your point.”
“Maybe Joss and I should stay somewhere else.” Kate cupped her hand over the baby’s curls. “I could probably get a private room set up at the Rainbow—the Rainbow!” She stood abruptly waking Joss. “I completely forgot! I’m on the schedule to work this morning!”
Phillip stood with his hand raised. “No, you aren’t. I stopped by there after I visited Sybil and let them know you and Anya would need a few days off. Your manager understood completely. He was sorry to hear about the fire. I didn’t think it was my place to tell him about Sybil, so I’ll leave that up to you. But he sure thinks the world of you girls for all your help, especially these last few months.”
“Oh, thank you, Phillip,” Kate said, settling back on her chair. “That’s such a relief. How thoughtful of you to think ahead like that. Burt is a treasure, isn’t he? He treats us all like daughters.”
Their food was served, and they ate with little conversation. When Phillip finished ahead of them, he insisted on holding Joss so Kate could finish eating.
“Careful, Phillip,” Gigi warned.
“About what?”
“Kate might get used to having you around as her personal nursemaid. Best not to spoil her.”
Anya shook her head as she smeared jam on her toast.
“Good heavens,” Gigi scoffed. “As if I’m the only one who thinks a man who’s good with babies is a splendid catch?”
Phillip laughed it off. “You think I’m good with babies? Just wait until Joss fills her diaper—or nappy as you call it—and see how fast I’m out of here.”
Gigi chuckled with Anya and Kate, then folded her arms across her chest. “You’re forgetting you told us you were the oldest in a family with six kids. I’m sure you’ve changed your share of soiled nappies.”
“Might we change the subject?” Kate chimed in. “I’m still eating, thank you. But back to your question, Phillip. I think you’re right. I’ll ask Burt if Joss and I can stay there at the Rainbow for a while.”
“No, I didn’t mean you should leave the hotel,” he said. “I was just suggesting we put you in another room. The hotel will have more rooms available now that Christmas is over, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How much are the rooms here?” Gigi asked as she pushed her plate aside. “A fellow told me a while back the rates here are ridiculous. Unless you’re an American officer, of course.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you’d have to pay for another room,” he said to Kate. “I’ve already got that covered.”
“But I couldn’t let you,” she argued. “You don’t have to do that.”
“You’re exactly right. I don’t have to, but I’d like to. It’s the least I can do for you all.”
“There.” Gigi patted Phillip’s forearm then stood. “All settled.”
“Where are you off to?” Kate asked.
“I have some errands to run, then I plan to go by the house and see if we can gather some of our things. They’ll reek of smoke, so we’ll have to have them washed, I suppose.” She pulled out a mirror and dashed her mouth with a fresh coat of lipstick, then dropped both back in her purse. “I assume they have a washing service here, don’t they?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, there you go.”
“Gigi, how are you—”
“See you later, girls.” Off she went.
Anya and Kate shared a glance.
“I don’t even want to know,” Kate murmured.
“Neither do I.”
“And I’m not even going to ask, so there we are,” Phillip added, getting to his feet. “Joss, how about you and I take a walk over to the front desk and see if we’ve had any calls.”
Half an hour later, they picked their way through the smoky remains of their flat. Mrs. Grafton insisted on keeping Jocelyn so Kate could do what she needed. Phillip helped, carting several armloads of clothes to his car.
Anya was relieved that her bedroom at the flat had been spared. She collected her treasures, thankful the American flag charm Danny had sent her had survived the damage. She gathered her clothes and a few other belongings and placed them in her suitcase. Phillip was right; the stench of smoke permeated everything.
Kate’s room had substantial water damage from the fire hoses that doused the drawing room right next to it. A large section of the wall had been hacked down by the firemen’s axes.
“What a mess,” Anya said as she helped Kate gather her clothes and some of Joss’s things.
“I refuse to look at this with negativity,” Kate said. “We’re all alive, and that’s all that matters, right
?”
“Yes, all of us, except for Sybil’s baby.”
Kate straightened. “Yes. Except for Sybil’s baby. We’ll just have to pray for her. I doubt there’s anything any of us can do or say that will lessen her grief, but I believe God can.”
Anya busied herself with more of Joss’s clothes. “I didn’t know you prayed.”
“Well, of course I pray. Don’t you?”
She pulled a blanket from Joss’s crib and folded it. “No, not really.”
“Why, Anya? You do believe in God, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe in God. I’m just not sure He has anything to do with our lives here on Earth. How else can you explain the war and everything we’ve all been through?”
“But that’s just it. We don’t have to explain the war, or anything else for that matter. We just have to trust Him to see us through all of it.”
“Is that what you’ll say to Sybil? Would you pat her on the arm and quote some scripture to her? ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord’?”
Anya took a sudden breath. “I’m sorry, Kate. That was unkind. I’m not arguing with you, but try to see it from Sybil’s point of view. Or mine, for that matter. It’s much harder to trust God when you’ve lost everything and everyone you ever loved. Where was He when all that happened?”
Kate was quiet as she finished packing her clothes. “I can’t say, Anya. I didn’t lose those dearest to me. My family is safe and sound in Winchester. I haven’t walked in your shoes.” She reached for Anya’s hand. “I know I must sound like such a simpleton, spouting beliefs I was taught in church as a child. I can’t begin to imagine the grief and heartache both you and Sybil have endured. We live in a world saturated with sin and evil and horrible people like Hitler and his followers. But God allowed us to survive for some reason, and I still trust in Him, because the alternative is just too frightening.”
Anya didn’t say anything. The same battle trampled her heart and mind every single day, but it wasn’t something she liked to talk about.
“I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I know God does. So for now, I’ll pray for Sybil. And for you, too. I care so deeply about both of you.” She closed the suitcase. “But enough of all that. Let’s get out of here before our pores soak up this wretched stench of smoke.”
34
9 January 1946
Chicago, Illinois
Danny had read Anya’s letter three times that day and couldn’t get her off his mind. Another glance at the large clock gave him a few more minutes to kill before the library closed. He reached for the envelope and unfolded it one more time. It was dated 29 December 1945.
Dear Danny,
I’ve so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin. Before I forget, I want you to know how much I love the American flag charm you sent me for Christmas. It’s such a perfect reminder of you and the life we have before us. Thank you for such a thoughtful gift.
But our Christmas was one of sorrow, Danny. It’s a long story, which I’ll try to keep as brief as possible here. As we took turns opening our presents on Christmas evening, Sybil had saved her parcel from Jack for last. In it, she found the gifts she recently sent him for Christmas and a letter saying he’d fallen in love with his childhood sweetheart who was now expecting his child, so he wanted an annulment. Sybil went into shock, and when she tried to leave the room, she tripped over my feet and fell into our Christmas tree. A fire broke out from the lighted candles on the tree. Most of the house was salvaged, though the smoke and water damage was extensive.
But far worse, Sybil lost her baby. Even now I can’t believe it. All of us are still grieving, though we’ve tried to lift her spirits now that she’s out of hospital. We’re staying at the Savoy Hotel thanks to Lieutenant Powell, the man from the American Embassy. Phillip was the one I wrote to you about who drove us to hospital when Kate had her baby back in October. We had invited him over for Christmas, so thankfully, he was there when it happened. He’s been a tremendous help to us, especially to Sybil. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without him.
With all that’s happened, we haven’t properly celebrated the good news, which is our notification to register at a place called Camp Tidworth in Salisbury Plain by Monday, 14 January. I’m told it’s not far from Southampton, which is where we will board our ship for America. I’m sure you heard about the War Brides Act that was just passed by your Congress yesterday, giving us non-quota immigration status. We’ve been told we don’t even need visas to enter the U.S. Imagine that, after all these months of standing in queues for days on end to get all our papers in order.
By the time you get this letter, we may already be at Camp Tidworth. I have no idea when we might sail, but they’ve told us we’ll be able to telegram you once the date is set. I’m not sure what to expect. To be honest, I feel quite numb about it. I want desperately to be with you, Danny. For months, I’ve dreamed of the moment I’ll see you at the pier in New York. But I’m so heartbroken for Sybil, and feel so wretched that the three of us will be leaving her behind. My only consolation is that Phillip will still be here. He spends whatever time he can spare at her side, and for that we are all grateful.
Our landlord Mr. Grafton has been wonderful, making sure we all get our letters. I had a letter from Sophie, and I’m so pleased for her and Charlie as she told me they’re expecting a baby next July. I can’t believe all these babies being born or on the way. It seems the world is trying to forget the long years of war and start over. A fresh start, it would seem. I had hoped to take the train to Framlingham for a visit before I leave, but time won’t allow.
I can hardly wait to see you, Danny. It won’t be long now.
Love,
Anya
Danny tucked the letter back in the envelope. He still couldn’t believe he would be seeing her in just a few weeks. Finally! But the news concerning Sybil had diminished the joy. To lose a baby seemed unthinkable, especially on the heels of such awful news from her husband.
He’d heard similar stories, of course. Lots of them. With thousands of veterans returning to civilian life, the inevitable adjustments after so many years away at war created a built-in tension on the home front. Newspapers and magazines addressed a number of these problems. For some, the mere fact they’d come home when so many of their fellow soldiers or sailors hadn’t, evoked a peculiar and unexpected sorrow that loomed over them. Just as bad, the smoldering resentment many of the veterans felt toward those who hadn’t “done their part,” no matter the cause for their deferment, leaving them behind to advance their careers instead.
Other veterans experienced a tremendous “let down” as they tried to retrain themselves for a mundane existence after years of constant adrenaline flowing through their veins. The unexpected flare of temper when things don’t go their way. The frustrating search for jobs with precious few available. The lack of housing and clothing and other necessities resulting from years of industries transitioned to provide resources for the war.
And on the actual home front, an even tougher adjustment unfolded as veterans often came home … different. Changed. Their personalities radically altered, dusting up unbearable showdowns with family and friends alike. Millie had told him many of the popular ladies’ magazines were featuring articles for wives and children, cautioning them about sporadic outbursts, inexplicable anxiety, horrific nightmares, and severe depression. They stressed the importance of “keeping an orderly house and serving delicious meals” as they got reacquainted.
But only a few of these articles addressed the exploding divorce rate among those who had returned from the war. Danny wasn’t surprised. He’d known plenty of guys like Sybil’s husband Jack. It was a game to them, sweeping English girls off their feet and dazzling them with hopes and dreams of living in a country unscathed by war. What he didn’t understand was why guys like Jack even bothered marrying the English girls in the first place. What was the point when they had no inte
ntion of staying faithful to their brides? How could guys like Jack turn their backs on their wives so soon after they got home?
Danny shook his head as he glanced at the clock again. He didn’t have to close the library tonight, so he gathered his things and headed for the door. He pulled on his gloves then wrapped the wool scarf around his neck and descended the library steps. He lowered his head against the cold blast of air and dashed across campus.
“Danny!”
He turned to find Beverly waving at him from the parking lot across the snow-covered lawn, then realized she was waving him toward her.
“I can’t! I’ve got a train to catch!”
She started toward him, her face serious. “I can take you home. Danny, I need to talk to you.”
He held up his gloved hand. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run.”
“Please, Danny? It’s important …” She stopped in her tracks and dropped her head in her hands.
He paused, knowing he should wave again and keep going. She was crying, which meant a lengthy encounter. He weighed the pros and cons in his mind, wishing he could just walk away. But regardless of their history, he couldn’t just leave her like this. He started toward her with a stern reminder to keep his guard up.
He closed the gap between them, stopping a few feet from her. “What is it, Beverly? What’s wrong?”
She looked up, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears. “I just need to … I don’t have anyone to … I’m sorry but I …” She closed her eyes and sobbed.
He stepped closer. “Beverly, what is it? What’s wrong?”