One London Night

by Denise A. Agnew

  “Well, if your life is terrible, mine is too. My parents have already tried introducing me to men,” she said.

  He winced. “Already?”

  “Yes.” A long pause came before she continued with, “Old men. Like the butcher down the street. The man has been married twice, and both his wives died. That’s a little frightening, don’t you think?”

  He laughed.

  “I’m staying clear of that bloke,” she said.

  “Sounds like a capital idea. Have you talked to your family today?”

  “I did. Even my brother.”

  “Is he handsome?”

  That wasn’t what he expected for a question, so he didn’t answer quickly enough for her.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “I guess. Yeah, he’s a good-looking enough man. A little shorter than me, but not much.”

  “As nice a chap as you?”

  “Hell, no. He’s arrogant, believes the world owes him everything.”

  She laughed. “That means I’ll like him.”

  “All right, I’ll introduce you.”

  He was only half speaking the truth. It would be interesting to see his brother brought down to size by this woman.

  Alec waited for her to continue with a pithy piece of romance advice or a quip, but she didn’t.

  He sank into the atmosphere and the quiet. “The sky is clear. Stars are coming out. For once in a long time, I can’t smell smoke.”

  “Amen.”

  As he stood with Sally taking in the calm, he realized that all of this…his life now and later, wouldn’t mean as much unless he had Sylvie as a part of it.

  “I’m making a call,” he said.

  He went inside, and luckily no one was on the phone.

  He dialed the Savoy in hopes of getting Sylvie. The phone rang and rang, but he got no answer. He hung up with a sigh. Of course she wasn’t there. Why would she be? She might have gone to see her grandparents, although he didn’t think she’d planned to originally. She might have found new friends to visit or attended the large Christmas party planned at the Savoy.

  He thought of her with James and wondered if maybe that wasn’t the way it should be. As much as he hated the idea of her in a romantic relationship with James, the facts were there. James was American, and when the war finished, maybe she’d leave for the United States. James could be the right man for her.

  The phone rang and startled him. When he answered, though, he received the surprise of his life.

  “Alec?” Sylvie’s soft voice smoothed its way into his ear.

  Happiness speared him. “Sylvie. I just tried to call you.”

  “I wondered about that. My phone was ringing as I went into my room. I guessed it could be you. You’re the only one I haven’t heard from today.”

  He knew she didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, but he did. “You’re the only one I haven’t heard from.”

  “Point taken. At least there aren’t any air raids.”

  He hoped not. “So far.”

  “Let’s not borrow trouble.”

  “I won’t if you won’t.”

  “Alec, you have such Christmas cheer.”

  “I decided I need to see you.”

  “When?”

  “I’m going to be busy with an extra shift over the holidays, but I have the twenty-ninth free. All day. Is there any chance you and I could…I don’t know…see a movie together? I’ve heard The Great Dictator is good.”

  “That’s still playing?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “You know me, Alec. A good romance is my favorite choice.”

  He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Then I’ll look for something romantic.”

  “Alec…”

  “Yes.” He almost held his breath waiting for her next words. An ache started inside him.

  “Alec, whatever movie you choose, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be nice seeing you. I miss you.”

  The ache went full throttle as he acknowledged his feelings. “I miss you too.”

  “Oh, there’s a knock on the door. Wait a minute.”

  While she went to the door, he contemplated how he’d failed in this relationship with her. He’d allowed misunderstanding to carry the day and couldn’t speak the truth when it stared him the face. Sure, he’d told her weeks ago that they couldn’t have anything more. He’d mentioned that she would leave England eventually. Starting any sort of relationship would mean disaster for them. He didn’t think his feelings could take it.

  She came back. “Sorry. That was James. There’s a party downstairs and it’s starting in a few minutes.”

  “You’re going with him?”

  “He’s going with a new correspondent that started with one of the other American papers. A young female.”

  Alec liked that idea one hundred percent. “Good.”

  She laughed. “Are you still jealous?”

  “Yes.”

  She made a sound of annoyance. “Forget James. I’m not in love with him. Not even like.”

  “Good.”

  After she made a sound of exasperation, she said, “Call me the day before, and we’ll make plans on the movie, all right?”

  After he agreed and they hung up, he decided that maybe, just maybe this was the best Christmas he could have asked for in a long time.

  Chapter 19

  News Of The Day

  New York Herald Tribune

  Fifty-seven nights of continuous bombing, September 7 to November 3, has brought London to a stretching point, but it hasn’t broken. It bends. It endures. December 11 the Germans unloaded one of the giant 1,800kg Satan bombs on central London, but fortunately it landed in Hyde Park rather than a residential area. Unfortunately a smaller bomb proved more deadly when it hit one of two shelters in Vincent Street and killed 28 people. Charlie Chaplin’s movie The Great Dictator, where he parodies Hitler as the character Adenoid Hynkel, received great reviews from critics. Churchill himself enjoyed a private screening on December 14. The next eleven days were somewhat quiet, but on December 21 a German aircraft crashed on Ebury Bridge. Christmas, blissfully, was quiet. We only hope the rest of the month remains so.

  * * * *

  Sunday, December 29

  Sunday dawned cold, and Sylvie could feel that cold straight through her wool pants, sweater, and suit jacket. Sunday also meant no work, at least officially. Working for the Tribune meant anything could happen at any time, but as she walked through the lobby of the Savoy, she hoped the day would remain calm. The Germans had struck only twice since Christmas.

  Though she’d been back to work for quite some time, working side by side with Betty and Benjamin hadn’t been easy. Benjamin hadn’t hindered Sylvie’s return, but he’d allowed Betty to taunt her in the office. Most of the time Benjamin and Betty weren’t around, and Sylvie continued her work with Pugs and James with no problem. Sylvie wondered when or if Betty would keep her job.

  Unfortunately, Sylvie saw Betty sitting in a chair in the Savoy lobby chatting with a good-looking man. Sylvie did not want to encounter the woman. Betty looked up, scowled at Sylvie, and left the man. The blonde trotted across the lobby at a clip. Never one to purposefully run from a challenge, Sylvie stopped and waited for Betty to arrive in front of her.

  Betty was dressed, as usual, like the most elegant woman on the block. She probably was. Where she purchased her flowing, flowery, evening-like dresses was anyone’s guess. Probably from the cash her many admirers provided for who-knew-what type of services. Or maybe she gave nothing but admiration to the men who fawned over her. Perhaps the men bought the dresses for her.

  Betty didn’t have a smirk of satisfaction, but a full-on glare. She planted her hands on her hips. “Well, there you are. Little miss manipulator and liar.”

  Whoa. Well, Betty had finally jumped past nastiness to pure, honest hatred.

  Sylvie kept neutral, determined to deflect any negativity the woman might have in mind. “Betty, I don’t have
time for this. I have things to do.”

  “You are a cast-iron bitch, aren’t you darling? If I’d known the sort of things you planned to do, the despicable, underhanded—”

  “Betty, get to the point will you?” The woman’s sharp British accent, so authoritarian and mean, grated on Sylvie’s last nerve. “It’s my day off, and I have things to do. I’d think you’d want to be out there grabbing another story.”

  The blonde woman’s eyebrows rose high and her lips curled in disgust. “You know what you did! Admit it.”

  Sylvie shrugged, uncertain she did know what the woman meant. “Got my job back? I’m not sure how that’s underhanded.”

  “It means I’m without a job. I don’t know what you said to New York or what you offered in money to get what you want, but it is despicable.”

  “I offered nothing of the kind.”

  Then Betty did one thing Sylvie didn’t expect. She stomped her foot like a three-year-old. “You are the reason I lost my job.”

  Sylvie couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t help what New York wants, and I can’t influence who they decide to hire or fire. But with your many…talents, I’m sure you’ll find something.”

  Betty’s lip curled. Everything pretty and sultry about the woman had turned to ugliness. “Benjamin wants me in your job.”

  “Well, I guess the people in New York changed their minds about what Benjamin wanted, didn’t they?”

  Betty clenched her fists, her eyes blazing with anger as she took a step forward. “You bitch!”

  Betty’s voice rose in pitch, and Sylvie noticed people strolling by and sitting in the lounge area looked their way.

  Sylvie continued her calm attitude. A moment later she saw Alec coming her way from the elevators. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get breakfast.”

  Sylvie walked past the woman toward Alec, but Betty grabbed her arm and swung her around.

  “Don’t walk away from me.” Betty’s voice went high again, accusation in every syllable. “I swear I’ll make your life miserable before this war is over. I’ll take your Alec Kent away from you. I’ll take everything away from you.”

  “Not a chance in hell, Betty.” Alec’s deep voice spoke over the woman’s tirade as he stopped next to Sylvie and put his arm around her. “There’s nothing you could do that would tear me way from Sylvie.” He kissed the side of Sylvie’s forehead. “Ready for breakfast?”

  Sylvie smiled at Alec and then Betty. “Thank you, Alec. I’m starving.”

  They walked away, and although she’d done well on her own, having Alec’s support made things even easier. She half expected Betty to run after them.

  Once out of earshot and near the elevators, Alec said, “So, she was fired, finally?”

  “Sounds like it. One can hope.”

  He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

  They found a place in the River Room This morning few diners ate in the big room, which suited Sylvie. She wanted quiet time with Alec. They ordered tea and the usual powdered eggs. Nothing extraordinary, but it would keep them moving through the day.

  “Thanks for saving me from Betty,” she said.

  Alec waited to answer until after the waiter poured their tea and left. “You were doing well enough on your own.”

  Her gaze tangled with his. Hot appreciation filled his eyes. A tingle of awareness and arousal burned low in her belly. Her time of thinking of him as only a friend had long disappeared. She wanted more with him, and all the time she’d spent denying it faded to the background. She liked that he wanted her. Whether he’d admit that fact out loud, she didn’t know.

  “You’re looking at me that way again,” he said softly.

  “What way is that?” she asked, knowing her tone held innocence.

  “In a way that’ll get you into trouble.”

  She leaned forward. Their table was small enough to afford some intimacy. “What sort of trouble?”

  Alec returned her gestured by leaning toward her and diminishing the space between them. “I’ll show you later.”

  She couldn’t help teasing him. “Are you flirting, Alec Kent?”

  “You know I am.”

  Their breakfast came fast and they ate quickly, even though they peppered conversation into the event.

  She sighed after finishing the last bite. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I always feel like I’m starving.”

  “You’ve lost some weight, Sylvie.” His expression was solemn. “You should eat more.”

  She didn’t take him seriously. “Are you willing to sacrifice your ration of eggs to fatten me up? I’ve been eating, but I’ve also had a lot of running about to do.” But she didn’t want to talk about food. “What should we do today?”

  “I thought we’d walk around the city and take in the sights and finish the day off at a pub. There’s one down the way from the flat that has excellent food. It’s inexpensive and good.”

  “Sounds wonderful. What about the movie?”

  “Ah yes. Which one should we see?”

  “How about what you suggested, The Great Dictator? We can laugh with the others who are poking fun at Hitler.”

  She smiled. “Should we see the movie before a meal? When does it start?”

  “Capital idea to eat first. I’ll look it up in a paper.”

  They rose from the table, and Sylvie felt a sweet sense of excitement at the idea of going with him and spending an entire day and part of the evening enjoying his company.

  “We should take torches with us because it’ll get dark early,” she said.

  “Good plan.”

  As they walked out of the restaurant, she stopped him at the exit. “Alec.”

  He looked down at her, and the genuine warmth in his eyes sent a tingle through her. “Yes?”

  “I’m looking forward to the new year. Even if it means the Germans are still bombing us. Bombing London.”

  He leaned down, and with the sweetest of kisses, he answered what he thought of that idea. When he drew back, he said, “Me too. No matter what happens.”

  * * * *

  Sylvie savored the last bite of pot roast. “Delicious. And those potatoes and carrots were…”

  “Heavenly.” Alec sighed and pushed back his plate. “And the only red meat I’ve had in days. I was starting to think I would need to go home to get a good piece of meat for a change.”

  Jester Ogden, owner of the Blue Ox eatery and pub, walked up to their table. “I heard that.” He rubbed his belly, covered by a spotted apron. Somehow the man managed to look a bit portly despite the war’s deprivation and rationing. His gray hair was thin and his face ruddy. His blue eyes sparkled as he talked. “It’s the only pot roast I’m likely to have for days, if not weeks. So I’m glad you liked it.”

  Sylvie smiled. “I could eat an entire plateful of just these potatoes and carrots.”

  Jester winked and threw her a cocky smile. She imagined in his younger years he might have flirted with every girl. Maybe he still did. “Thank you very much, young lady. Do they get carrots like this in the United States?”

  Sylvie glanced down at her empty plate. “They do. But I haven’t tasted any as good as these in a long, long time.”

  Jester’s eyes went round. “Well, that’s all I live for.”

  All three of them burst out laughing. Several other people in the pub looked at them, but everyone had warm expressions and understanding. She liked this pub and couldn’t wait to experience another dinner again sometime in this old place. It had been here since the sixteen hundreds, Jester had told them.

  Jester gave them the check and said, “No rush now. Take as long as you like. There aren’t many people out tonight. My wife and I like the company.”

  As Jester left, a strange unease struck her, a creeping concern she couldn’t banish.

  * * * *

  Alec and Sylvie were about to leave the pub when the air raid sirens went off, and everything inside Sylvie f
roze. Perhaps this was the reason for the dread she’d felt earlier. She went icy with cold, a furious and distinctive feeling akin to panic. She couldn’t seem to speak or move.

  “Alec,” she said.

  He reached across the table and touched her hand. “I know.”

  “This feels different.”

  “Yes.”

  A couple across the room stood and threw money on the table. They ran out.

  Jester and his wife hurried out of the back kitchen area. Jester waved to Alec and Sylvie. “Come on. We’ve got a shelter downstairs. I’ve got a feeling London is getting a hiding tonight.”

  Strange plunking noises started coming down on the roof.

  “What is that?” Jester asked.

  Sparks flamed down to the ground outside the windows. The flares of sparkling fire rattled down the roof and onto the pavement. Air Raid wardens scurried about outside trying to extinguish the devices as they landed.

  Alec glanced out the windows and cursed. “Incendiaries. Designed to start fires. There’s worse to come after that. Start the fires and then bomb because all of the fires will make easy targets for the bombers. They also work as damned beacons for the Jerries.”

  Jester’s wife put her hand to her mouth. “God help us.”

  Alec’s mouth tightened and he said, “Everyone do as Jester said. Downstairs.”

  Sylvie’s heartbeat quickened. She suddenly wished they’d returned to the Savoy after the movie. At least the Savoy would have its big shelter below. It didn’t matter now. Living meant getting to the shelter fast. Alec stood at the window with indecision on his face.

  Sylvie went to him and took hold of his arm. “Alec, we need to get downstairs.”

  “Jesus, Sylvie. Everything is going to burn.”

  “If we try and run now, we won’t make it.”

  Their eyes met, and the glow from an incendiary outside gave her enough to see his face clearly. “I’d give almost anything to write a story on this. To see what will really happen.”

  “And I’d give almost anything to fight these fires.”

  “We can’t.”

  He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “No. We can’t. I won’t leave you to fight a fire.”