If I Were You

by Lynn Austin

  “I’ll look for a torch.” Eve ducked belowdecks and Audrey heard her rummaging around in the dark. She emerged topside again, carrying a battery-operated light.

  “I know there’s a blackout,” she said, crawling forward onto the bow, “but I think this qualifies as an emergency.”

  “Shout if you see something before I do,” Audrey called to her. With the dim torchlight shining down into the water ahead of her, Audrey was able to inch the boat forward and reach the pier where the officer and the other boats waited for them, dark shapes outlined against the churning water. She and Eve were the only women.

  “Good show, ladies,” the officer said as Audrey cut the engine to neutral. “I’ll put you in the middle of the flotilla, shall I? There will be someone ahead of you and behind you all the way to Dover. Just keep one of the other ships in sight and you shouldn’t go wrong.”

  A dozen other engines sputtered to life and they began moving away from shore into the channel. Audrey shivered from raw nerves and the cold wind. Neither she nor Eve was dressed warmly enough, but then she’d never imagined she would captain the boat herself. Eve went below again and returned with two blankets, wrapping one around Audrey before wrapping the other around herself. “What else do you need me to do?” she asked.

  “Sit beside me and help me stay close to the others,” Audrey said through chattering teeth. Her fingers felt numb from gripping the wheel with bare hands. She’d hoped they would hug the shoreline all the way to Dover, but the flotilla picked up speed and headed away from land toward the open sea. The bow reared up and down as the boat plowed against the thudding three-foot waves, and Audrey had to resist the urge to slow down, to turn back. She longed to close her eyes and wake up in her bed in Wellingford Hall, where there would be no war, and Alfie would be asleep in his room down the hall. Instead, she was living a nightmare.

  “You’re doing great, Audrey,” Eve said, a dark shadow beside her. Audrey nodded and gripped the wheel tighter.

  She could do this. She had to.

  Eve kept her gaze fixed on the boat ahead of them, a dim, bobbing shape in the darkness that retreated from sight as the front of Audrey’s boat heaved up and down in the waves. They were out in open water now, far from shore, and Eve was terrified. She never should have forced Audrey to do this. Eve clung to her seat for dear life, fighting the urge to vomit over the side, silently reciting every Bible verse she could remember from her Sunday school lessons in the village. “The Lord is my shepherd . . .”

  “How will we get back to our car from Dover?” Audrey asked, interrupting her thoughts. If Eve was terrified, Audrey must be half-dead with fright. Was she even strong enough to handle this big, powerful boat? Eve hadn’t considered that when she’d pressured Audrey to sail it. She’d thought only of Alfie and hadn’t wanted to give up the idea of rescuing him after motoring all the way down from London in the rain.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait until morning and try to hitch a ride back,” Eve shouted as the wind and the engine’s roar snatched her words. “We can walk if we have to.”

  “I’m getting quite good at walking,” Audrey said. Eve leaned closer to hear her above the drone of the engine and the pounding waves. “You’d never believe it, but I walk from Wellingford into the village and back at least once a day, sometimes twice.”

  “Well, if you can drive this boat, you can drive a car, you know. I’ll teach you on the way back to London.”

  Audrey offered a weak smile before fixing her gaze straight ahead once more. Her face was as pale as death, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel. Eve needed to keep her talking so she wouldn’t faint. Hours had passed since they’d left London and they were both growing tired. Neither of them had eaten anything. “By the way, ‘Good show, Miss Clarkson,’” she said, imitating the naval officer’s accent.

  “Thanks. My brother loves this boat. He’ll never forgive me if I sink it.”

  “You won’t. You’re doing great. I knew you could do it.” The boat jolted as they hit a large wave, dashing salty spray into the wheelhouse. “Tell me about Alfie,” Eve said to distract both of them. “What have you heard from him? I write to him all the time but he rarely writes back.”

  “He’s terrible at writing letters. I don’t hear much from him, either. And when I do, he just whines about all the things he misses from home and how cold and miserable he is on the Continent. Though he does mention the good French wine.”

  “Alfie loves a good time,” Eve said, then wished she hadn’t, remembering Lady Rosamunde staggering home, drunk. Eve had seen Alfie in the same condition many times. Would there ever be good times again? The Nazis had goose-stepped across Europe at the speed of lightning, with no army able to stop them, including Great Britain’s.

  “Where does your courage come from, Eve?” Audrey suddenly asked.

  “Me?” She gave a nervous laugh, grateful that Audrey couldn’t read her mind. “I’m not courageous. I’m merely thickheaded. I just blunder ahead and do what needs to be done without thinking about it. Your problem is that you’re much smarter than me, Audrey. You overthink everything, imagining what might happen and worrying about all the things that could go wrong. You can’t help being brilliant any more than I can help being dense.”

  “You aren’t dense. You’re every bit as smart as me. You’ve just lacked the advantages and opportunities I’ve had. Remember my governess, Miss Blake? She used to marvel at how quick you were to learn and how curious you always were. I consider us equals.”

  “In spite of our class differences? Isn’t the system based on the notion that blue bloods are better in every way than the servant class? We’ve been told it’s useless to try to better ourselves because it’s impossible to change what we are.”

  “Many people might feel that way, but I don’t. Miss Blake said the first war knocked holes in the class system because aristocrats and workingmen had to fight and die side by side for the same cause. I have a feeling this war is going to destroy the system altogether.”

  Eve smiled into the darkness. “I hope you’re right. Then there might be hope for Alfie and me.” She took her gaze off the shadowy boat in front of them for a moment and looked into the distance, wondering how much time had passed since they’d left shore—three-quarters of an hour, maybe? Lightning flickered on the far horizon, followed by the faint rumble of thunder. That was all they needed, for it to start raining again. She was already wet and half-frozen. Then she realized what the faint bursts of light really were. The war. They were that close to it. She pulled her blanket around her, feeling small and vulnerable, hoping Audrey didn’t glance at the horizon.

  The boat they followed appeared to be changing direction, arcing slightly to the left. “I think we might be heading inland again, Audrey. Maybe we’re almost there.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You deserve a long, hot soak in the tub after this. Your teeth are chattering.”

  “So are yours. And you’re right—we are turning back toward land. I wonder how we’ll ever see the shore in the blackout.”

  “We’ll just have to trust the man who’s leading us.” For some reason, Eve thought of Granny Maud’s stories about the Good Shepherd. “A shepherd always leads his sheep; he doesn’t drive them. If they follow him, they’ll make it safely home. But if they go their own way, they’re sure to get lost.” Eve closed her eyes and prayed for Alfie. And for Audrey. If only all three of them could make it safely home.

  Then, like a miracle, the clouds thinned from thick wool to filmy gauze. The gauze parted to reveal a glorious half-moon shining down. Moonlight gilded the churning waves and revealed the dark outline of the shore in the distance. “We’re going to make it, Audrey! It won’t be long now.” The scuttling clouds tried to erase the moon, but it shone through long enough to bring the flotilla into the port of Dover.

  “We’re the volunteers from Folkestone,” one of the captains called to the Royal Navy officer onshore. “We have
some ladies piloting that vessel, over there. Let’s get them tied up first.”

  “Bring it right up here,” the officer called back. They were landing beside a wall, not a dock, with dozens of other boats only a few yards away. Eve stood, letting her blanket fall, and moved onto the deck.

  “I don’t remember where reverse is,” Audrey moaned. Sailors stood above them on the wall, ready to grab the ropes. The engine sputtered, then died as Audrey struggled with the controls.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Eve told her. “I’ll throw them a rope.” It took three tries, but Eve finally managed to toss it high enough for the men to catch. She felt like cheering when the boat gently bumped against the floats cushioning the wall.

  “We made it!” Audrey sighed as if she’d been holding her breath the entire way. She slumped forward, resting her arms and head against the wheel. The deck rocked as two young sailors jumped down to help tie the boat fast. The other ships from the flotilla pulled in close all around them.

  “Need a hand up, miss?” one of the men asked Eve.

  “Let my friend go first,” she said. “But I think she needs a minute.”

  “I’m all right,” Audrey said, raising her head. But it took her two tries to stand on the swaying deck. Sailors helped them climb the iron ladder to the top of the wall. Eve’s knees threatened to buckle as she stepped onto dry land. She linked arms with Audrey so they could steady each other.

  “We must look like a pair of drunks,” Eve whispered.

  “What’s going on with our navy that they have to send women to war?” she heard one of the seamen say. He was an older man in patched clothing, tanned and grizzled as if he’d spent his entire lifetime at sea.

  “They didn’t send us,” Audrey told him, her voice surprisingly strong. “We volunteered. We couldn’t leave the men we love stranded across the channel when we happened to have a boat.”

  “You must have a shilling or two to own a pleasure craft like that one,” the man replied.

  “Yes. I suppose I do.”

  Eve’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness onshore, and she realized that the shadowy figures she saw jamming the lanes and alleyways around the docks were soldiers in round tin helmets, loaded down with gear. Hundreds of men. Most sat on the ground, leaning against walls and barrels and anything else they could find. Some wore bulky, square life vests. Some smoked cigarettes, shielding the glowing tips with their helmets. Many were asleep.

  “Are these our men?” Eve asked.

  “The last of them for today,” the seaman replied. “Just got here before dark. They’re waiting for the train.”

  “We need to find Alfie,” Audrey said.

  “I had the same thought. But right now, we need to sit down and get warm.” Audrey was trembling from head to toe and likely couldn’t walk a single step without Eve holding her up. She had concentrated on her task for more than an hour, half-frozen and rigid with fear.

  “You ladies come into my shack and warm up,” the old seaman said. He gestured to a square black shape a short distance away. “Have a cup of tea. Might even find you a sandwich or two.”

  “I need to find my brother.”

  “Those soldiers aren’t going anywhere. Come in and have a seat.” He led the way inside, then turned up the wick on his lantern once the door was shut. The shack’s only window had been painted black. Eve blinked in the dim light and looked around before sinking down on a low wooden bench beside Audrey. Fishing nets and wooden floats and various other equipment that Eve didn’t recognize filled the tiny space. It smelled strongly of fish, and with her stomach still queasy from the boat ride, she politely refused the sandwich the man offered. But it was warm inside the shack, out of the wind and salt air. A kettle of tea simmered on a hot plate. The man poured them each a cup. It was very strong and very hot—and easily the most delicious cup of tea Eve had ever tasted.

  “That ought to revive you,” he said, pouring a cup for himself. “You girls deserve a medal or something. It’s hard enough to navigate in the dark, let alone with waves like those out there. Anything could’ve happened.”

  “We’ll suffer a much worse fate,” Eve said, “if England has to surrender and the Nazis take over.”

  “You’re right about that, miss.”

  She looked at Audrey, still shivering as she sipped her tea, both hands clenched around the chipped cup. Her wonderful, timid, fainthearted friend was afraid of black beetles and sometimes her own shadow. But tonight, Audrey had shown courage in spite of her fear. And Eve had never loved her more.

  10

  “Thank you for the tea,” Audrey said when they’d finished a second cup inside the seaman’s shanty. “Is there someplace nearby where we can stay for the night? Our car is in Folkestone, you see.” She stopped short of adding that both she and Eve could use a long soak in a hot bathtub, if possible.

  The old man frowned and raked his fingers through his bristly hair. “I don’t think you’ll find anything around here. If it hasn’t been boarded up and sandbagged, it’s being used by the military.”

  Tears filled Audrey’s eyes before she could stop them. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” her mother’s voice whispered.

  “There now, miss . . . Don’t cry . . . ,” the old man said. She was ashamed that he’d noticed her tears, but his voice softened as he added, “You might try the stone church down the street. They’ve been working hard, bringing tea and sandwiches to the soldiers. Might find a quiet corner in there where you could sleep.”

  Audrey pulled Eve’s damp handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “Thank you so much. That’s what we’ll do, then. Which street is it on?”

  “Dunton. But it won’t do you any good to know that. All the signs are down so the Nazis can’t find their way. Turn left outside the door, cross the next road, and keep going. Dunton twists and turns a bit, but you’ll soon see the church.”

  “Thank you so much.” The tea had steadied Audrey’s nerves and she was able to stand and walk outside without Eve’s help. The train hadn’t arrived for the soldiers yet, and men filled the streets and alleyways like a lumpy, olive-drab carpet. “I want to look for Alfie. Would you mind terribly?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Eve said. They slowly felt their way across the street to where the closest group of men lay huddled.

  Audrey couldn’t imagine her brother sleeping on the hard ground and hoped that officers like him were billeted someplace with real beds. She wouldn’t mind sacrificing a room for the night if Alfie needed it. As near as she could tell, most of the men were asleep, but one of them opened his eyes as she and Eve approached and nudged his mate.

  “Look, Clyde. We must have died and gone to heaven because here’s two angels coming for us.”

  “Don’t be daft. Angels got wings and they don’t.”

  “We’re looking for my brother, Lieutenant Alfred Clarkson,” Audrey said. “Do either of you know him? Have you seen him?”

  “Never heard of him,” the one named Clyde replied. “But you’re not going to go walking through here and waking everybody up to ask about him, are you?”

  “Well, I’d hoped—”

  “Don’t do it, lady. Most of us ain’t slept in three days. This is the first we’ve closed our eyes without worrying about Nazi planes screaming down from the sky. And us with no place to hide.”

  “You have no idea what we been through,” the other soldier added.

  “We’re very sorry,” Eve said before Audrey could reply. “We’ll come back tomorrow. I’m glad you made it home.” She tugged Audrey’s arm, pulling her away. “Come on. Even in daylight it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  They walked close to the wall of houses and shops on one side of the street, feeling their way in the unfamiliar town, stumbling over cobblestones and sandbags. The half-moon still fought to shine through the clouds, and Audrey spotted the church steeple silhouetted against the sky. Once inside, they followed the sound of voices
to a makeshift kitchen behind the sanctuary, where three women chatted as they washed dishes and swept the floor. The one with the broom spotted Audrey and Eve.

  “Well, hello, there. Do you need something?”

  Eve quickly explained their errand, the long drive down from London, the frightening boat trip in the dark. “And now we’re wondering if we could sleep on one of your pews for a few hours before walking back to Folkestone tomorrow.”

  “You can come home with me, duckie, if you don’t mind sleeping two-to-a-bed.”

  Audrey was uncertain about going home with a stranger, but Eve wasn’t.

  “That would be lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Audrey yanked her arm. “But—”

  “They must be good people to be up at this hour, helping our soldiers,” Eve whispered. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about offering kindness to strangers?”

  “I suppose. . . .” Audrey didn’t know enough about the Bible to say for certain.

  “We heard your church is offering tea to our soldiers and we would like to do our bit,” Eve added. “Could you use some extra help in the morning?”

  “We could use all the help we can get,” the woman at the sink said. “There’s thousands of our boys needing it.”

  “My name is Margery,” the woman with the broom said. “Give me another minute to finish up and I’ll take you home. It isn’t far.”

  Audrey clung to Margery’s apron strings with one hand and to Eve with the other as they made their way to Margery’s cottage in the dark. Audrey hoped they wouldn’t take a wrong step and fall in the harbor as they skirted past it. Margery’s little cottage was clean but very primitive, and Audrey decided not to ask for soap and a towel after seeing how very little the woman had. Margery herself looked exhausted as she led them up the steep wooden stairs to an attic room. It had only enough space for a narrow bed and a chair, but Audrey was grateful for it. “It’s my son Ralphie’s room,” Margery said, setting the candleholder on a windowsill. “He’s one of the boys they’re trying to bring home from France.”