A Fire Sparkling

by MacLean, Julianne

  She still didn’t quite know the answer to that question. She had resolved to simply follow her instincts, from one hour to the next.

  “Where was she all this time?” Theodore asked. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Vivian replied. “She said she wrote to me from Berlin, but the letters never arrived for some reason, which is not surprising, I suppose, considering we are at war. She was singing at a club there, and she was perfectly happy—with her head in the sand, no doubt. It was only when Germany invaded France that she decided she might not be safe there any longer. So, she finally decided to come home.”

  He scoffed, picked up his spoon, and dug into his stew again. “She’s lucky to have made it out of there in one piece. The Nazis aren’t exactly welcoming toward foreigners these days—especially those who are related by marriage to British cabinet ministers. It’s a miracle she wasn’t captured and questioned as a spy and shipped off to prison. We would never have known.”

  Vivian’s stomach turned over at the prospect. “Yes. Thank God it never came to that.”

  He continued to eat his supper. “I’ll look forward to talking to her about it. Perhaps there is some information she can share with us about what she observed in Berlin and during her journey home. Anything can help. You never know. Even the smallest detail about something seemingly insignificant can help us to be better prepared for what is to come.”

  Vivian’s heart began to race, because she was not the sort of person who could easily tell a lie and get away with it. Her father had always known whenever she tried to hide her singing from him. He said the truth was written all over her face. And then he would beat her for keeping it from him.

  Theodore would never beat her, of course, but he was her husband, and they loved and trusted each other. She wasn’t sure she could live with a lie like that between them. It could destroy their happiness if he ever found out, which he undoubtedly would, because she was such an utter failure at keeping secrets.

  She couldn’t do it. She had to tell him.

  “There’s something else I must confess,” she heard herself saying, “but I’m uneasy about it. Honestly, Theodore, I don’t know what will happen when I say it, and I’m so afraid of what you’re going to think and what you might do.”

  He set down his spoon and frowned. “You don’t ever need to be afraid of me, darling. Tell me what it is. Come now.”

  She squeezed her hands together on her lap and tried to steel herself against the terrible self-doubt that was coming at her from all angles. Perhaps this was not the right thing to do. What if Theodore reported April’s affair to someone in the government? What if they thought she was a spy and came here to arrest her?

  Her palms grew clammy. Which was worse? April being sent to an internment camp with Nazi sympathizers or even executed if she was up to something here in London, which Vivian could not entirely rule out, for clearly her sister was infatuated with that Nazi officer and would probably do anything for him. Or was it worse for Vivian to keep a secret from her husband? To lie to him?

  Vivian had resolved to act according to her instincts. Suddenly it all became clear. She couldn’t betray her sister, not if it meant her life could be at stake.

  She lowered her gaze. “I broke the framed photograph of your parents. The one that stood on your dressing table. I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”

  Theodore’s expression softened with sympathy. “Is that what you were worried about? Accidents happen, darling. It’s not the end of the world.”

  She covered her face with her hands because she was certain he would see straight through her. “I felt terrible about it because I was so careless, swinging my arms about, dancing around the room.”

  “Because you were happy about the baby?”

  She nodded and heard him laugh softly. At last, she lowered her hands to her lap. “You’re not angry?”

  “Of course not. I’ll get the frame replaced. Or shove the picture into a drawer. I don’t know why I kept it out on display in the first place. Father and I . . .”

  He chose not to elaborate, but Vivian understood his meaning.

  Rising from her chair, she went to the adjoining parlor to turn up the volume on the wireless for the nine o’clock BBC broadcast. Then she excused herself, went upstairs, and swung the picture of Theodore’s parents against the wall until the glass shattered.

  Perhaps she was better at telling lies than she thought.

  Later that night, while Theodore was dressing for bed, Vivian went upstairs to check on April. She knocked softly on the door, but April offered no response, so Vivian pushed open the door and tiptoed into the room.

  April was fast asleep. Moonlight was streaming in through the window, for no one had thought to come in and close the blackout curtains. But there was no need, because all the lights were out, and April was sleeping like a baby.

  Vivian crossed to the bed, sat down on the edge of it, and shook her sister. “April, wake up.”

  Groggily, April rolled over and peered up at Vivian with glassy eyes. “What’s happening?”

  “You never showed me those pictures today,” Vivian whispered forcefully. “Do you understand?”

  “What?”

  Vivian leaned closer and spoke more vehemently but still in a whisper. “You never told me about Ludwig. I don’t know anything about him. You kept it secret from me, and if anyone ever finds out, I’ll deny knowing anything, and you must deny telling me as well, or Theodore will never forgive me. I’ll keep your secret if you can promise me that. Theodore can never know that I knew of it and didn’t tell him.”

  April nodded. “All right. I promise.”

  Vivian pointed at the sea chest. “And make sure that stays locked.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” She slid off the bed and stood up. “Tomorrow you’ll meet Theodore, and if he asks about the man you followed to Germany, just tell him it didn’t last. You can say he was a Nazi if you like, and that’s why you ended it months ago. The closer you stick to the truth, the better.”

  April nodded again.

  “Now go back to sleep.” Vivian moved toward the window. “And there’s a blackout in effect to protect against German bombers. Not a single stitch of light from indoors can be visible through the glass, so you must keep the curtains closed at all times after dark.”

  “I will.”

  Vivian glanced up at the magnificent moon in the clear night sky and admired it for a few seconds before she pulled the curtains closed and made for the door.

  Then she thought of one more thing and paused. “Oh, there’s something else.”

  April sat up in bed.

  “I’m pregnant,” Vivian told her. “I found out this afternoon, and I just told Theodore. We’re both very happy, and I don’t want anything to spoil this. Do you understand me?”

  April smiled. “Yes, I understand. And congratulations, Vivian. A baby . . . how marvelous!”

  Vivian raised a finger to her lips. “Shh.”

  April covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet. But it’s such wonderful news! Now that I’m home, I can help you. I can’t wait to be an auntie.”

  Vivian found herself smiling as well. “It is good news, isn’t it? I’m so excited. I can’t wait to talk to you about it, but we’ll do that tomorrow.” She blew a kiss at her sister. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She turned to go.

  “Vivian . . . wait.”

  Pausing just outside the door, she turned. “Yes?”

  “Thank you,” April whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” Then Vivian slipped quickly down the stairs and returned to her husband in the bedroom, one floor below.

  He was waiting up for her. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes,” Vivian replied as she slid into bed beside him and switched off the lamp. “She was fast asleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.”

  She moved close to him and curled into the war
mth of his arms but was unable to shake the prickling rush of guilt over the fact that she had just lied to her husband and would probably do so again and again over the coming months. It felt like a series of fresh cuts across her heart, and it stung so badly it kept her awake.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Are you comfortable with this?” Vivian asked April the following morning before she went downstairs for breakfast. “He’s probably going to ask you questions about your life in Berlin. You must be prepared.”

  April was seated at her dressing table, running a brush through her silky blonde hair. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I know exactly what I’m going to say. You’re the one we need to worry about.”

  Vivian frowned. “What do you mean?”

  April swiveled on the stool to face her. “Because your cheeks are flushed, and I can see the panic in your eyes. Just try to relax.”

  Relax? It was just like April to shrug in the face of danger, which only caused Vivian to feel more anxious and agitated, envious of her sister, who always coasted through life with such ease. “Maybe you’re not taking this seriously enough.”

  “And maybe you’re taking it too seriously,” April replied. “Remember, it’s always the people who panic who end up drowning.”

  “But this isn’t a swimming pool!” Vivian countered. “It’s real life.”

  April faced the mirror again. “Just go downstairs and try not to act strange. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Vivian walked out and went to the breakfast room, where she sat down across from her husband. She was unable to eat a single bite of her toast, however, and began to wonder if she should confess everything immediately. But when she imagined April in Holloway Prison for women, she clamped her mouth shut.

  “What’s wrong?” Theodore asked, lowering the newspaper to the table. “You look pale.”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a shaky voice, keeping her gaze fixed on her toast and jam.

  “Oh, hogwash.” April stepped into the doorway. “She’s not fine at all. It’s called morning sickness, and there’s no escaping it, I’m afraid.”

  Wearing a pretty floral dress, April walked confidently into the room. Theodore dropped his knife and fork onto his breakfast plate with an enormous clatter and stood up.

  “Good God.” His gaze darted from April to Vivian and back to April again. “I knew you were twins, but this is astounding. You’re identical. It’s remarkable.”

  Vivian stood up as well. “Allow me to introduce my sister. This is April. April, meet my husband, Theodore.”

  He moved around the table and took her hand in his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’re very happy to have you back.”

  “I’m happy too,” she replied.

  Theodore gestured toward the sideboard. “Please, help yourself to some breakfast.” He sat down again. “Vivian has already explained to me that you left Paris just a few days ago.”

  April served herself a slice of ham and toast. “Yes, and I apologize for not emerging from my room last night, but I was dog tired. I slept like the dead.”

  “Please. No apologies are necessary.”

  April sat down, and Mrs. Hansen entered the room with the coffeepot.

  Vivian was quick to fill the silence with conversation. “The first thing we must do today is get you a ration card so that we can have extra eggs next week.” She smiled, hoping she sounded witty and light.

  April sipped her coffee. “I am most willing to contribute to the kitchen coffers.”

  Theodore proceeded to ask April about her journey from Berlin to London. She told him about the oppressive presence of the Nazis in Paris and how unsettling it had been to see German soldiers marching in the streets.

  “I was absolutely terrified,” she said. “I was afraid to leave my hotel, and I can’t begin to describe the heart-pounding anxiety I felt every time I had to pass through a Nazi checkpoint. I had all my identity papers, of course, but the SS was so suspicious of everyone. And sometimes I saw people being led off at gunpoint—to heaven knows where—and I would feel sick with fear. I should have come home a long time ago, but I was foolishly optimistic. I kept thinking that it would all be over soon and that peace would be restored, but Hitler kept pushing on, into Belgium and Holland and then France. I learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut, and the fact that I was blonde and blue eyed turned out to be a blessing. They took one look at me and left me alone, sometimes not even asking for my papers, having no idea that I was British, of course.”

  Theodore sat forward and looked at her intently. “You must have played your cards very well.”

  “I suppose I did. But now that I’m home, I don’t wish to think about it. I want to forget.” April dropped her knife as tears filled her eyes. She turned her face away. “I’m so sorry.”

  Vivian rose from her chair and pulled her sister into her arms. She stroked April’s hair. “There, there, now. You’re home, and you’re safe here.”

  April took a moment to collect herself while Vivian exchanged a look with Theodore. She shook her head with sympathy for her sister, even though she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t all an act.

  An awkward silence ensued while April blew her nose and Vivian returned to her chair.

  Theodore glanced at the clock. “I’m so sorry, but I must go. There’s a meeting with Lord Beaverbrook at nine.”

  They got up, and Vivian walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye. A moment later, she returned to the table where April was back on her feet, helping herself to a second slice of toast.

  Vivian’s stomach curdled with nausea. “I don’t feel so well.” She stood for a moment with her hand on her belly, hoping the sick feeling might pass, but it didn’t. Turning quickly, she ran up the stairs to the water closet and expelled the entirety of her breakfast.

  It took a moment for her to recover and catch her breath. Then she pulled the chain on the water tank and opened the door.

  “My poor dear,” April said, reaching the top of the stairs. “Let’s get you into bed. You look terrible. What can I do?”

  Vivian shuffled weakly into her bedroom and climbed onto the mattress. “You could get me a drink of water and my toast from the breakfast table. I feel like I need something in my stomach.”

  April tucked Vivian into bed and went downstairs to fetch her breakfast plate. When she returned, Vivian was already feeling better. The nausea was passing. She was able to eat.

  April sat down on the edge of the bed. “Does this happen every morning?”

  “Every morning this week,” Vivian replied. “I might be in for a rough few months.”

  “It will be worth it when your baby arrives.”

  Vivian took another bite of toast. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you so much. Now I feel like all my prayers have been answered. You, Theodore, and a baby . . .”

  April laid her hand on Vivian’s knee. “I missed you too. I wish you’d gotten my letters and written back to me. I would have felt so much better if I knew you didn’t hate me.”

  “I could never hate you. No matter what.”

  April regarded her with a mixture of affection and sorrow—probably for what she had left behind in Paris.

  “Tell me something,” Vivian said, “and please be honest. Was that real just now, when you wept over what you’d seen in France, when you were on your way home?”

  April frowned. “Of course it was real. I would never pretend about that. I only felt safe when I was with Ludwig.”

  April turned her face away, and Vivian bristled with regret for entertaining so many doubts about her sister. Clearly April was troubled by what she’d seen and experienced. Vivian’s heart squeezed with compassion. “You don’t have to talk about it. And I believe you now, that you’re thankful to be back in England. And I trust that your German fellow isn’t all bad. Dreadful things happen in war, no matter which side you’re on, and it’s not always easy for a man to do his duty. I just hope that somehow, he is do
ing something good, if he’s an honorable man, as you say he is. All I can do is trust your judgment about that.”

  April smiled with relief. “Thank you. That means more to me than you could ever know. And you won’t be disappointed. I promise. I’m certain that when this conflict comes to an end, Ludwig will be on the right side of things, and when you meet him, you’ll understand why I love him. And you’ll come to see that I’m no longer that foolish, reckless girl I once was. I’m sorry for all of that—for running off to Bordeaux and leaving you behind to take care of Father and the wine shop. That was selfish of me, but I’ve grown up since then. I look back on the person you were, and the person I was, and all I want to do is be more like you and make you proud. You were always the responsible one.” She shook her head. “I promise I’ll never leave you again. I want to be here for you and your baby.”

  Vivian dissolved into a puddle of tears. “I’ve missed you so much.” They held each other and wept. “We’ve always taken care of each other. I can’t bear to think of what you must have gone through in Germany and France.” Then Vivian put on a brave face and wiped away her tears. “But now, let’s take care of some necessary business. We need to get you registered for a ration card and a gas mask, but before we do that, I’ll take you out to the back garden and show you our Anderson air raid shelter, so that you know where to go if the Luftwaffe comes. If you hear the siren wailing, go as quickly as you can, and stay there until the All Clear sounds.”

  April stood up and pulled Vivian to her feet. “Gas masks and air raid shelters? What a delightful way to spend a morning.” Vivian laughed. “How about this . . . it will help if you tell me more about how you and Theodore fell in love. He’s very handsome, by the way. Well done. I always knew you’d be a great success when the right man came along.”

  As Vivian followed her sister back down the stairs, she felt her anxieties begin to fall away. It was a familiar feeling—the relief that always came whenever April began to climb down from the top branch of a tree.

  But in the very next instant, Vivian thought of Theodore and the secret she had kept from him, and the anxieties returned, as if she were now the one perched on the precarious treetop.