“H
URRY, SOFIE!” HER SISTER’S voicefloatedthroughtheopendoor,echoingpastthebookcasesliningthewalls.
ItreachedherasSofiesatinaworldofherown,lounginginthewindowseatinherfather’slibrary,herfavoritespotin thehouse Abooklayopeninher hands,buther eyes were gazingouttothe pale pinksoftness ofthecherryblossompetals flutteringdownfromthetreeonthestreetbelow.
“Thereyouare!”Rachel hurriedintothelibrary,andSofiecouldhear thetenderness inher elder sister’s voiceas she crossedtheroom “IknewI’dfindyouinhere”ShesmiledgentlyandrestedahandonSofie’sarm,andSofietriedtoimprint itintohermemory,theessenceoftheirnineteenyearstogether herentirechildhood,andtheonlyplaceshehadeverknown
“I’vedecidednottogo.”Sofietrainedhereyesonthepage,tryingtoblotoutreality.“YoucantellPapa.”
ButRachel’shandremainedonher arm,her voicecalm.“Youknow youhavetogo,Sofie.ThinkofPapa.Heworries aboutyou,andwe’llfollowyouthereverysoon”ShefixedSofiewithherfirmsmile,asifitwereallagreedandtherewas nothingmoretosay.“We’llbetogetheragainbeforeyouknowit.”
Threeyearsolder,Rachelhadalwaysbeentheleader,seriousandstrong.Sofie,evertheyoungest,hadbeenthedreamy onewithherheadinabook “Whycan’tyougoinmyplace?You’refarbettersuitedforthisthanIam”
“I’msorry,Sofie.”Shesatdownbesideher.“Thisjob,thevisa,they’reinyourname.Ican’ttakeyourplace,andevenif Icould, Iwouldn’t. Iwantyouto be safe, and rightnow, Britainis one ofthe safestplaces inEurope.” Rachel putanarm aroundher,andSofieslumpedintoherwithresignation,knowingthatshewasright,asusual Eversincetheirmother’sdeath tenyearsago,Rachelhadtakenonmuchoftheresponsibilityoftheirfamily Sofiehadbeenpartiallyraisedbyher,notthatshe wouldadmitit.Asaresult,Rachelwasthepersonshealwaysturnedtowhenshedidn’tknowwhattodo.
Pullingaway,Sofiecrushedherfistsintohereyeswithfrustration.“Butiftheyhadn’tcanceledyourjob,we’dhavebeen leavingforLondontogether Atleastwewouldhaveeachother”
“Iknowthatit’sdauntingtogoalone,Sofie,butajobwillcomeupformesoon.I’vebeengoingtotheBritishEmbassy everydaytochecktheadvertisementsandapplyforposts.Yesterdaythereweretwo,oneforahousekeeperandanotherfora cook althoughIwouldhavetolearnsomeofthatblandBritishcookingforthejob”Rachellaughed,tryingtomakelightofit, buttheybothknewhowdirethingswere.BritainwastheonlyplaceinEuropestillofferingvisastoJews;everyothercountry wastooscaredofhavingadelugeofrefugees,tooscaredofwhatthatcouldmeaninthecomingwar.
THEBAUMANNRESIDENCE,BERLIN
May 1939
But the British visa came with a catch: you could only apply for one if you had already secured a job contract for domestic work. There was a shortage of servants inBritain, so the Britishhumanitariangroups pressingto help Jews had finallystruckadealwiththegovernment:TheywouldletJewsintothecountryiftheyweretofillavacantservant’sposition.
“Butit’snotsoeasyanymore,”Sofiesaidindespair “ScoresofpeopleareswarmingtotheBritishEmbassyeveryday toapplyforonlyoneortwonewpositions.EveryoneIknowistryingtogetavisa.Whatwillwedoifyou’renotpicked?”
“Iwillfindawaytojoinyou,visaornovisa.Fredericksaysthatifthingsgetanyharderforusoverhere,wecancross theborderintoFrance”
“Howmuchhardercanitget?”Sofiecountered.“Wecan’tgetjobs.Wecan’tgotoschoolortocollege.They’veforced us to sew these stars onto our clothes, and we’re banned fromshops and restaurants. Ever since Kristallnacht, we’re being attackedonthestreetsandnooneblinksaneyeatit Threatsarepaintedonour doorsandour propertyisvandalizedfor no reason.Andwhataboutthoseofuswhosimplyvanish?Noone’sheardawordfromProfessorReinhardtsincehewascalled intothepolicestationforquestioning,andit’sbeenmorethanamonthnow!”
“Don’tworkyourselfup,Sofie.Thingsareneverasbadastheyseem.BothFrederickandIhaveexitvisas,andwecan gotoBelgiumorFrance We’retryingtogetoneforPapatocomewithus,eventhoughhe’sinsistingonstayinghere,closeto Mama’s grave.” She made a longsigh,thenleavingthe thoughtunsaid,she continued.“Butwe’re still goingtotrytogetthe Britishvisa,sinceitwouldalsomeanthatwewouldhaveanincomeandaplacetolivewhenwearrive.”Shepulledaway fromSofie,lookingimploringlyather,eyeswideandinsistent
“ButFrederickwillneverbeabletogetaworkvisa,”Sofiesaid.AlthoughtheirneighborFrederickwaslikeacousinto them,Sofiecouldn’tseehow abookishmedical studentwouldbeuseful inhelpingthemescapefromNazi Germany.“There are hardly any advertisements for male servants, only the occasional gardener or footman The vacancies are always for women,maidsandhousekeepers.Ifyouwaitforhimtogetone,you’llneverleave.”
TherewasamomentofsilencebeforeRachelsaid,“You’reright,hemightnot.ButifwehavetotravelthroughGermany togettotheborder,hecanhelpus HelooksmoreAryan,andifIdyemyhairblond,wecanpretendtoberegularGermans I’veheardpeopletalkaboutit,howtheyjustcutthestarsofftheircoatsandwalkdownthestreetwiththeirheadsheldhigh,as iftheyhavenothingtobescaredabout.Wecandothatifweneedto,Frederickandme,andPapa,too.Wecanhideinplain sightandescape.”Rachelglancedoutofthewindowatthecherrytreepetalscascadingdown,thenshegotupandwalkedto thepianointhecorner arguablyherfavoritespotinthehouse
Frustratedly,Sofiefollowedher.“Thenwhycan’tIwaitherewithyou?”
“Becauseitisn’tsafe,Sofie,andthemoreofusthattraveltogether,thegreatertheriskwe’llbecaught.Youhavetotake thisvisa,forallofoursakes”Rachelletherfingersfallthoughtlesslyontothepianokeys,playingthefirstfewtripletsofher usualpiece,Beethoven’s“MoonlightSonata.”Rachelwasthemusicalone,thepianist,thenotesanomnipresentechothrough theirhome.
As she listened, Sofie tried to memorize itfor the future where would she ever hear piano music again? And where wasshegoingtofindalibrarylikePapa’s?Whatwasshegoingtodowithoutherbookstoescapetointheseterribletimes?A fearcameoverherforallthatshewaslosing,andsheclutchedtheslimvolumeofpoetryinherhand,determinedtoslipitinto hersuitcase.
In the middle of the slower section, Rachel’s fingers slowed and stopped, the last notes lingering like unfinished thoughts.“Sofie,youknowthatPapawillnotletyoustay,notwhenitmeansputtingyouindanger.Ifanythingweretohappen toyouhewouldn’tbeabletobearit,notifyou’dhadthechancetoleave.Andourliveshavealreadybecomesosmallhere.” Slowly,shegotupandpulledSofietowardthedoor,hervoicealittlemorefirm “Nowcomeon,it’stimetogo”
Sofie clenched her fists infrustration, but she knew she was no matchfor her older sister. No matter how muchshe argued,Rachelwouldputherontothetrainregardless.
Reluctantly,sheallowedherselftobeledthroughthehallwaytowhereherfatherwaited,hersmallsuitcasebesidehim Quickly,shebentdownandopenedit,slidinginhervolumeofpoems.Itscompanyonthislong,dauntingtripwouldbeboth comfortingandprotective.
Herfathercameforwardtohugher.“Youknow,Sofie,youhavealwaysbeenmyspecialstarry-eyedgirl.Promisemeto keep thatlightinside youalive It’s a pitywe don’thave anyfriends or connections inBritain, butI’msure the Wainwright familywilltreatyouwell.Workhard,keepyourfaithalive,andthinkofus,howwewillbetogetheragainsoon.”
TearscametohereyesasRachelgentlyguidedheroutofthefrontdoor.“Wehavetoleaveifyou’regoingtomakethe train”
Butasshewentoutontothefrontsteps,Sofieturnedbacktotheoldhouse,herhomeforallherlife,hereyesglancing onelasttimeatthewindowinthelibrary.
“Iwillcomeback,”shemurmured.“AssoonasIcan,Iwillcomehome.”
And as she stood, the pink petals fromthe cherry tree blew fromthe tree in front of the house, some resting on her shoulders,andshesuddenlyfelttheshiverofhowtransitorylifewas,hownothingeverstayedthesame,everylifeflutteringin thewind.
It was a mile’s walkto Friedrichstrasse Station No one mentioned the future, no one mentioned the war, and no one mentionedhowtreacherousthejourneyacrossEuropecouldbe,especiallyattheGermanbordercrossing.Despitethefactthat she had bothher Britishworkvisa and her Germanexitvisa, the authorities were increasinglyunpredictable where Jewish peoplewereconcerned Safepassagewasnotguaranteed Oneneverknewiftheymightrefuseyou,confiscateyourpapers,or takeyouforquestioning.
That’showpeopledisappeared.
Whenthe stationcame into view, Sofie’s pace slowed, butRachel laced anarmthroughhers to hurryher along. “We don’twantyoutomissthetrain”
The forecourtwas loud and chaotic. Crowds pushed and shoved, so manytryingto escape the countrytheyno longer recognized.Therewasasenseofconfusion,ofurgency,whilethethreatofviolencehungintheairlikeasourstench.Children were crying, packages were beingthrustinto carriages, and all around them, people were holdingeachother, knowingthey mightbepartingforever.
Sofieallowedherselftobepulledthroughthecrowdslikeashredofseaweedinhightide.Thetrainwasalreadyatthe platform,filledwithwomenlikeher,headingfor new livesinLondon Awell-groomedbrunetteinafur coatsobbedasshe clungtoaman.Anolderwomanholdingachildscuttledintoacarriage,thechild’smotherinhystericsontheplatform.
“Iknow this is difficult, butatleastyou’ll be safe until we getthere.” Rachel’s voice was serious, instructive. “Work hardfortheWainwrights,makesuretheydon’thaveanyreasontocancelyourvisa”
“ButwhatifIcan’t?” Sofie couldn’thelp saying “How canIbe a good housemaid whenthe onlyknowledge Ihave comesfromwatchingMrs.GrunandHildeathome?Andwhathappensifthere’sawar?IftheNazistakeBritain,whatwill happenthen?HowwillIeverfindyouandPapaagain?”
Herfatherfoldedherhandinsidehis “Thisisthebestchanceforyou Youhavetobebrave,Sofie”
Suddenly,sherealizedhow difficultthiswasforhim,theshadowsbeneathhiseyes,theclenchedjaw.He,too,didnot wanthertogo,butthiswasthebestoftheirfew,dismaloptions.
Thetrainwhistlewasblowing,thecrowdsshoutingandthesoundofcarriagedoorsslammingaroundthem
Sofie’sheaddroppedintoherhands,heavysobscomingoutofher,andherfatherandRachelputtheirarmsaroundher. Shetriedtodrinkintheirtouch,wonderingwhenshewouldfeelitagain.
ItwasRachelwhopulledawayfirst,hastilywipinghertearsasshesoftlydrewherfatherback Hiseyeswerewetand red,andhewasunabletospeak,overcomewithemotion
“You have to go now, Sofie.” Rachel’s voice was hoarse with tears, and she turned Sofie toward the carriage door, handingherthesmallsuitcaseasshesteppedonboard.
Sofie could barelyhear her throughthe cacophonyofpeople and the whistle ofthe train, the buildup ofsteamas the enginespreparedtoleave.
Insidethecarriage,Sofiepulleddownthewindowtotaketheirhandsforonelasttime.
“Always know thatwe love you, Sofie,” Rachel cried “Everytime youputyour hand onyour heart, youwill feel us there.”
HerdearsisterandfatherswaminfrontofSofieashereyeswelledupwithtears.
Anotherwhistleblew,andthetrainslowlybegantoshuntforward
Their fingers were pulled apart, the white smoke ofthe trainbillowingbetweenthem, the noise as the trainbeganto movedeafening.Insidethecarriage,everyonewaspushingagainstthewindows,shoutingabovetheengines,wavingarmsand handkerchiefs.
For amoment,thesmokecleared,andSofie’seyesmetRachel’sonelasttime Her guardhadcomedown,andall that Sofiesawwashersister’sraw,inconsolablegrieftangledwithadense,unravelingfear.
AndthenRachelwasgone,theplatformaseaofstrangers,nowdisappearingintoablur.
Fallingbackintoherseat,Sofiesankherfaceintoherhandsandcriedasthethrumofthewheelscarriedherfartherand fartherawayfromeverythingshe’deverknown.Minutesturnedtohours,thetimemeaninglessandmisshapen.Shehadnever feltsocompletelyalone.
Fromnowonward,shewouldhavetomakealldecisionsherself NotRachel,notPapa Onlyher
She watched through the window as the crush of city buildings slowly gave way to fields, and she silently waved goodbyetoBerlin.Hersisterandfatherwouldbehomebynow.Theymighthavestoppedforcoffee,perhaps,althoughmostof thecoffeehouseshadputupsigns, JUDEN NICHT WILLKOMMEN Thereweren’tmanyplacesforthemtogothesedays
Her worriesaboutRachel andPapaseemedtoincreasethecloser shegottosafety.Germanywasdangerousfor Jews. Peoplewentmissing,vanishingwithoutatrace.Nooneknewforcertainwheretheywent,buttherumorsofworkcampshad becomemorefrequentanddetailed Papa’shealthwasn’tgood Hewouldneversurviveifhewassenttoone
OppositeSofiesatasmartlydressed,middle-agedwomanwhoeyedher,takingintheyellowstarsewnontohersleeve. Sofie quicklytookoffher coat, foldingitto hide the star, placingitonto the luggage rackabove her. Watching, the woman pursedherlips,thentookoutsomeknittingandfocusedonherstitches,theclickety-clickofherneedleskeepingtimewiththe wheelsofthetrain
Notknowingwhattodowithherself,Sofietookhersuitcaseoutfrombehindherlegsandpulleditontoherlap.Easingit open, she tried to stop herselffromweepinginto her lastpossessions, fingeringher mother’s heavygold braceletthatshe’d sewnintothehemofaskirtforsafekeeping ShetouchedRachel’smauveshawl,pullingittoherface Itstillsmelledofher,of theirhouse.Carefully,sheputitaroundhershoulders,itsweightandwarmthremindingherofthehomeandfamilyshe’dleft behind.
Therewasaphotographofthem,takenatHanukkahinfrontofthemenorahandtheladeneddiningtable Rachelwasat theback,herarmsovereveryone’sshoulders,withherdarkhaircurledelegantly.Besideher,Papahadahauntedlook,hislife reelingoutofcontrol.HisbusinesshadbeenforcedtoclosebytheNazislastyear,andhe’dhadtosellhiscollectionoffirst editionstoaffordthehousekeeper Butthenshe’dleftanyway,apologeticandweepy,butwhatcouldanyonesayordo?People were vilifyingher for workingfor a Jew Papa’s stature had shrunkfirstwithhis wife’s deathand now withthe long, slow squeezeoftheNazis’relentlessfist.
ToRachel’sleft,Sofielookedasifshewereabouttotakeoffoutofthepicture,racetothelibrarytoreadorworkonher poetry Itwasagoodphotographofher HerlongwavyhairwasafractiondarkerthanRachel’sandherwidesmilefulloflife, sodifferentfromhowshefeltnow,somanychangesinjustafewshortmonths.
Hermindwentbacktothebookshehadfoundlateonenight,hiddeninherfather’slibrary.Itwastitled The Brown Book of Hitler’s Terror, writtenbythoseworriedabouttheNazis’tyranny Asshereadpageafterpage,thefullrealizationofwhat couldhappentoherfamilydescendedonher.
“Buthowcantheygetawaywiththis?”she’ddemandedofherfather,runningintohisstudy,pushingthebookacrosshis desk
Hiseyesweresteadyashesaid,“Itwillsurpriseyouwhatpeoplecando,especiallyifwegotowar Everyonewillbe lookingtheotherway.Noonewillseewhatishappeningundertheirverynosesbecausetheywillnotwantto.”
Thetrainslowedasitenteredthestationofalargetown.Anumberofpeoplegotoff,andagroupofnunssquashedinto Sofie’scarriage,anoldonesmilingkindlybeforesittingbesideher Asthetrainbegantomoveforwardagain,ayoungernun led a prayer, the sound of the indecipherable Latinwords mingled withthe turnof the wheels and the clickety-clickof the knittingneedles. Sofie closed her eyes, and as she oftendid whenshe needed comfort, she leta bookplayinside her head. Lookingaheadtohernewhome,she’dread ARoom with a View wouldtheWainwright’shousebeadornedwithwisteriaand croquetlawns? She triedtoremember everydescriptionfromthe novel,lettingthe heartwarmingtale comforther,removing herfromthestrange,pricklingfearthatgrippedherinside.
Suddenly,shewasbroughtbackwithajolt
Thetrainhadstoppedatasmallstation,seeminglyinthemiddleofnowhere.
Thenun’schantinghadpeteredout,andsomeoftheyoungeroneslookedoutofthewindowtoseewhathadcausedthe stoppage.
“TheNazisarealwaysdisruptingthetrains,”theoldnunbesideherwhisperedtotheothers “Youneverknowwhy” Butthereasonsoonbecameapparent.
The speaker systemcrackled into life, and thencame a sharp voice, either the police or the Gestapo. “All Jews must identifythemselves”
Withasharpintakeofbreath,Sofiefeltherheartpound
Weretheygoingtostopherfromreachingtheborder?Itcouldn’tbefarawaynow.Thiscouldn’tbewhereherjourney ended.Sheswallowedhard.Inaflash,sherememberedhersister’sterrifiedfaceontheplatformasthetrainpulledaway,and shesuddenlyunderstoodhowdangerousthistripcouldbe andjusthowcrucialitwasforhertofleethecountry
Sofie looked through the window down the platform. Noises and shouts indicated that a group of policemen were boardingthetrain.
Sheknew theywouldbecheckingpeople’s papers,whichwereclearlymarkedtoshow whether youwere a Jew You hadtohaveidentificationpapersinordertotravel,soshecouldn’tpretendshe’dforgottenthem.Andthentherewasthestaron hercoat,too.Herheartbeganracing,herfacecoloring.Shecouldn’thelpglancingaroundthecarriagefrantically,lookingfora wayout,butononesidethecorridorwasfilledwithpolice,andontheothertheplatformwasguarded
Therewasnoescape.
Shoutedcommandscamefromothercarriagesfartherupthecorridor,policemenorderingpeopleoutontotheplatform. Throughthewindow,shewatchedasatrailofquietlyresignedpassengerswereledaway.
The womanopposite snapped downher knittingand pulled outher identitypapers readyfor the police Evidentlyshe hadnothingtohide,andshequicklyresumedherknitting.Thestopwassimplyaninconveniencetoherday,whereasforSofie itcouldbetheendofeverything.
Fearclenchedherheart Theshoutedordersofthepolicemenwerecomingcloser Theywouldbeinhercarriagewithin minutes,ifnotsooner.
Herpaperswereinhercoatpocket,upontheluggagerack,andwithherheartpounding,sherealizedshehadnochoice. As she stood, she pulled Rachel’s shawl around her before reaching her hand up to feel inside the folds of fabric for the papers.
Butthenshefeltahandonhershoulder,andquietly,theoldnundrewherbackdownintoherseat,adjustinghermauve shawltocoverherhead,tuckingabibleintoherhands “Youarewithus,child”
Unsure,Sofiebentherheadforward,petrified Thiscouldbeaverydangerousdecision;ifshewascaughttryingtolie, she had no doubt that whatever the police were goingto do withthe other Jewishpassengers, they’d plansomethingmuch worseforher.
Butbeforeshecouldthinkitthrough,alargepolicemanwasalreadyatthedoor,demanding,“Ineedtoseeeveryone’s papers.”
Sofieclosedhereyes,barelybreathing.Sheheardtheyoungnunspeak,therustleofthepapersbeingpassedover.Itwas interminable
Fromthecorridor,orderswereshoutedthrough,urgingthepolicetohurry.
Brusquely,thepolicemanflickedthroughthestack,barelypausingtochecktowhichofthenunseachdocumentbelonged. “Whataboutthatone?Whydoesshehaveashawlandnotahabit?”
HewastalkingaboutSofie Feargrippedherlikeavice Butthenshefeltawarmhandreachingovertopathers “Sheis anovice,”theoldnunsaidsimply.
Silencehungintheair,onlytheclickity-clickoftheknittingneedlesslowing,theballofwooldroppingtothefloor. That’swhenSofieremembered
The womanwiththe knittinghad seenSofie’s coat, the star sewnonto it. Would she tell the policemanthatSofie was deceivinghim?
The needles stopped, and Sofie peered fromunder the shawl to see the womanhandingover her ownpapers As the policemanlookedatthem,thewoman’seyesshiftedtoSofie’s,hergazenarrowing.
Sofiehadseenthatlookbefore.NazipropagandahadconvincedthenationthatJewsweretherootofevilandhardship, thattheywereanimalsthathadtobecontrolled Didthiswomanbelieveit?
Butthenthe old nunbeside her reached downand picked up the woman’s ball ofwool. As she handed itto her, she murmured,“Weallneedhelpsometimes.”
Thewomaninhaledsharply,aneyebrowraisedtoanindignantpoint,andasthepolicemanhandedbackherpapers,the womanopenedhermouthtospeak “Iwantedtosay ”
Sofiefeltherthroattighten.
Butthentheoldnunbegantochant,hersoftLatinwordsinfusingthecarriagewithacalmserenitythatclashedviolently withthepotentiallyhorrificoutcome
“Yes?”thepolicemangruntedatthewoman
AndasSofie’sheartstoodstill,thewomanglancedfromhertothenunandsaid,“Howlongisittotheborder?”
“I am not a stationmaster,” the policeman barked. “You will arrive when you arrive.” He strode out, and soon his footstepsandshoutswereheardinthenextcarriage
Petrifiedforwhatmighthavehappened,Sofieslowlyletoutabreath.
Withinminutes,thedoorswereslammedshutandthetrainpulledaway,theGestapo’sworkdone.
As the carriage passed the end of the platform, Sofie saw thirty people or more huddled together Most were young womenlikeSofie,tryingtoescapeGermany,now beingorganizedintoamarchingline.Theyoungbrunetteshe’dseenatthe stationwasthere,herfurcoathideouslyjuxtaposedtohernewreality.Throughthemovingcarriagewindow,Sofiecaughther eyeandsawonlyonething:terror
As the train rumbled out of the village, the old nun gently squeezed her hand, and Sofie shakily smiled at her with gratitude.Atrailoftearsoozedfromhereyes,offearandutterreliefatwhatmighthavebeentheendofhervoyage.
“Thankyou,”shecroakedtothewomanopposite,butthewomanhadgonebacktoherknitting,ignoringherwithasmall, coldsniff
Sofieturnedtotheoldnunbesideher.“Yousavedmylife.”
Buttheoldwomanonlysmiled,pattingherhand,justanothersmallactofkindnessinthishorrificnewworld.
August 1940
IN THE LATE SUMMER heat,thebusyLondonstreetswereathrongofactivity,andasJulietLansdownsteppedupfromBethnal GreenUndergroundStation,shewasalmostbowledoverbythebustleofpedestrians.Peopledartedeverywhere,thecrowds dottedwithuniformsaswellasyoungwomenlikeherpatrioticallycomingtothecitytocoverthejobsleftbymengoingtothe front.
Hersuitcaseinonehandandhergasmaskboxhangingfromhershoulder,Julietfeltherpulsepounding.Finally,shewas here Awaveofexhilarationwashedthroughher,quicklyfollowedbytrepidation
I can’t let this go wrong
Thestreetwasbusyfor themidafternoon,packedwithbuses,trams,andcars,thedinofenginesminglingwithbicycle bellsasanewspapersellershoutedtheheadline“NazisBombSouthLondonAirBase.”
Shegazedupatthetall,terracedbuildings,sofarawayfromherlittlevillage Thiswasherchance Shehadtomakeit count. It would prove what she could do, show the difference she could make. All the things she’d beenthroughcould be tuckedawayintothepastonceandforall:heroppressiveparents,thedisappearanceofherfiancéonthefront,andthesecret thatclenchedherheartlikeatightfist
Withdetermination,shestraightenedherpillboxhatandsetoffacrosstheroad.
Muchthoughthadgoneintochoosingherprimnavyblueskirtsuit.Uniform-likeclotheswerealltherage,showinghow womenweredoingtheirbitforthewar She’dcurledherdarkblondhairintoasmartvictoryroll,andsheworepatrioticred lipstick,makingherlookefficient,cheerful,andplucky
Attwenty-six,unmarried,andsmartasawhip,sheneededthisnew challenge.Andchallengeitmostcertainlywas it wasn’teverydaythatawomanwasofferedajobasadeputylibrarian,andinoneofthegrandestlibrariesineastLondon,too.
Herheartbeatfastasshemadeherwayacrossthestreet,dodgingadouble-deckerbusandanoldhorseandcartpiled highwithsalvagedmetalrailings,readytobemadeintowarplanes.
ShecouldhardlywaittoseeBethnalGreenLibraryitself.
Andassheturnedoffthemainroadandintothepark,itcameintosight: thegrandVictorianedificepresidingoverthe greenery.Ahundredfeetwide,themagnificenthall hadsixteentall windowsandgranddoubledoorsinthecenter.Asecond storycontainedanotherrowofwindows,theroofdividedbyagreatglasseddome.
Takingadeepbreath,sheheadedinside
BETHNALGREEN,LONDON
The entrance led into a tall, marble vestibule, the walls covered with grand portraits of the solemn, side-whiskered industrialistswho’dfinancedthelibrary,bringingeducationtoLondon’spoor.
Butitwasn’tuntilshe’dsteppedintothemainatriumthatshehaltedinawe.
Ashaftofafternoonsunshinethrewagoldenlightthroughtheglassdome,coatingthedarkwoodenrowsofbookswitha sense ofantiquity. Tall shelves lined everywall, narrow spiral staircases takingyoufromone tier to the next as the books above became smaller and smaller. The smell ofmustyencyclopedias and floor waxpermeated the still, silentair as a few readersshiftedslowlythroughtheaisles
Andallthiswastobeherdomain.
To Juliet, a librarywas more thanjusta repositoryfor books. Itwas a spiritual and intellectual adventure, a place to delveintotherichtreasuretroveoflife Whenshehadfirststeppedintoher villagelibraryinUpper Beedingasanintrepid six-year-old, she was struck by the sheer quantity of books the endless escapes into different places, different families, differentlives.Thelibrarymadehersmallvillagefeelexpansive,herimaginationunrestrained.
Once she was old enough, she volunteered there, stayingawayfromthe suffocatingatmosphere athome. Beinginthe libraryremindedheroflife’spotential,ofwhoshewantedtobe,insteadofwhatherstrictparentshadinstoreforher
AndnowthisbigLondonlibraryofferedherevenmorethanthat:Itgaveherasanctuary,ahaven.Foryears,herparents hadresolutelyinsistedthatsheliveathomeuntilshemarried,butwiththewarpostersencouragingwomentofilltheLondon vacanciesleftbythemen,evenhermothercouldn’tobjecttoherleaving,nettledasshewas
Aretired countryaccountantand his humorless wife, her parents had beenunconcerned withproducingoffspringuntil Juliet had surprised themlate in life. Although she was their only child, she had been brought up by a dull nanny, barely knowingherparents,whoseemedtobelongtoadifferent,stauncherera oneinwhichchildrenwereusefulonlyinupholding the family’s reputation.After he retired,her father hadbecome increasinglyreclusive,while her mother hadbad-temperedly putherselftothetaskoffindingJulietasuitablehusband,disdainfullyinstructingher tohideher shortcomings: bookishness, stubbornness,andavulgartendencytohaveideas
They lived in a solitary mansion on the edge of Upper Beeding, a house where visitors were discouraged With no companionstokeephercompany,Juliethadfoundsolaceinbooks.HerfriendshadbeenAnneofGreenGablesandAlicein Wonderland,heradventuresinNarniaandtheSecretGarden.WhenJulietshowedaflairforEnglishatschool,shehadbegged herparentstolethergotouniversity,onlytobetolditwouldbetheruinofher
“Toomucheducationisn’tgoodforgirls,”hermotherdecreedfromtheendofthediningtable.“Itputsideasintotheir heads,andbeforeyouknowit,agoodmarriageisn’tenough.You’realreadyadisasterasitis,surroundedbyallyourbooks. What about the suitable beaus I’ve paraded in front of you? The Hapfields’ sons are perfect, and what about Sebastian Falconbury?Iknowyouthinkhimamindlessrake,buthisfather’sthedoctor,verywellregarded.Really,Juliet,youneedto stopthisnonsensebeforethosebooksturnyouintoabluestocking.”
Littledidhermotherknowitwasalreadytoolate
Thepageshadbeenread,theknowledgeabsorbed,theideasaroundheralreadychallenged Shedidn’twanttoendup livingher mother’s life, shutup athome ministeringto a high-classed husband who hardlyacknowledged her. Privately, she becamedeterminedtoremainsingleratherthanriskbeingtrappedinlovelessdutylikehermother.
ButthatwasbeforeVictorManninghadwalkedintoherlife
He was differentfromanyone she had ever known. Apolitical writer withpublished essays, he had come to her little librarytospeak.Sherememberedadmiringhim,revelinginhisintellect,hischarisma,theabilityhehadtocaptureamood,a belief Hereadaloudanexcerptfrom Heart of Darkness, delvingintothe headysymbolismandmetaphor before presenting hisownprose,hisidealsandmeaningsechoingConrad’sinner,complexreality.
How thoughtful, principled, and moral his writing had been; the opposite of his disappearance fromthe front line in Dunkirkthreemonthsago
Juliet’s parents had notapproved ofVictor, and they’d watched coldlyas his disappearance unraveled her. Ofcourse, theydidn’tknowthepainfultruthofhowandwhyVictorvanished.Noonedid andhopefullynooneeverwould.
Atleastthe big, anonymous citywould give her a chance to startafresh, make herselfso busythatthe terrible reality wouldbetrampledunderherrushingfeetorcrushedbetweenthepagesofbooks,unabletofindair
As she stood beneaththe great, silent dome surrounded bybookshelf uponbookshelf, a peace washed over her, as it always did inlibraries. Butthe place had a differentambience to her little libraryathome. Instead ofthe bustle ofpeople poppingin,thequietchatter,thechildrenplaying,BethnalGreenLibrarywashushed,theairstillandstalewitholdvolumes
Theornatebalconieswereempty,andabeautifulglass-panedreadingroomsatunusedatthefarside Onlyahandfulofpeople hoveredinthenearestaisles,andjusttwoelderlywomenperchedatatablelikeapairofsilver-headedbirds,spectaclesonas theyreadthenewspapers.
Opposite the double doors,the mahoganymaindeskwas polisheda deepbrown,meticulouslytidywitha single large register.Alongsideitstretchedacard-catalogcabinet,painstakinglylabeled.Thentherewasaboardfor notices,whichwas meantforlocaleventsandlibraryupdates,butitcontainedonlytwogovernmentposters,neatlypinned:CARELESS TALK COSTS LIVES and CHILDREN ARE SAFER IN THE COUNTRYSIDE It was quite the opposite of the noticeboard inUpper BeedingLibrary, which was full to bursting with community notices, events, and meetings, especially with all the wartime fundraising and volunteergroups.
“I’mhere to see Mr Pruitt,” she said to the prettyauburn-haired girl behind the desk Ina summer dress, she looked youngenoughtostillbeatschool,andtherewasafreshnesstoherbrighteyes,apencilstuckintoherbun,forgotten.
Sheleanedforwardwithasmile.“Areyouthenewdeputy?I’moneoftheassistants,Katie.”Shegesturedtotheoffice doorbehindher.“Mr.Pruitt’sinthere,asusual.”
Relievedtoseeafriendlyface,Julietintroducedherself,adding,“Ihopehe’skeentotrysomeofmynewideas” Katieleanedforwardtowhisper,“Ihavetowarnyou,Mr.Pruittisn’ttookeenonnewthings.”
Tryingnottoletthisunsettleher,Julietfixedasmileonherfaceandknockedonthedoor.
Athin,nasalvoicesaid,“Come,”andJulietsteppedinside
Ataround sixty, Mr. Pruittwas slim, unsmiling, and gray, fromhis three-piece suitto his recedinghairline and small, penetratingeyes.Evenhissilver-rimmedspectaclesfailedtoaddanycolortotheman.
“Dotakeaseat”Therewasadismal orderlinessabouthimandthesmall office She’dmetlibrarianslikehimbefore Everybookinitsplace,everycatalogcardcompletedinthesameblackink,everydaythesamestrictroutine.Theyknewthe DeweyDecimalSystembyheart,enjoyingtheprecisionofit.ToJuliet,organizingalibrarywasacreativeexperience,nota rule-basedsystemtobeupheldbeforeallelse
She stepped forward “I’mJulietLansdown, the new deputylibrarian” She puther hand forward to shake his, and he tookthetipsofherfingers,clearlyuncertainwhetherwomenshouldbeshakinghandsatall.
“Pleasedtomeetyou,”hesaid,althoughthesentimentdidn’tseemtoreachhiseyesormouth,whichremainedinaneven grimace
Lookingherovercritically,hetookoutasheetofpaper,whichsherecognizedasherletterofapplication.“Ihopeyou understandwhatagreatresponsibilityitis,tobethedeputyhere?”
“Of course, and you’ll find that I’mwell qualified for the position” In her agitation, the words tumbled out of her chaotically. “I’ve been working in the library in Upper Beeding for several years. The head librarian there was a lovely fellow,andheletmetakeonalotofextraduties,someofwhichI’dliketosharewiththelibraryhere ”
Mr Pruittputupahandtostopher
“Letitbeknown,MissLansdown,thatyouhavebeenemployedherenotbecauseofyourexperience,butratherinspite ofit.Ourformerdeputyinsistedonrejoininghisoldregiment,”hesaidwithbitterness,“andhadtherebeenamanavailableto taketheposition,thejobwouldhavebeenhis.Butintheabsenceofone,Iwasinstructedtofindasuitablewoman.”Hepursed hislipsindispleasure “Wewishyoutofillhisshoesasbestyoucanuntilhisreturn”
Unsure,shemurmured,“Iplantodoso,andmore,too.IformedareadinggroupinUpperBeeding,anditwasincredibly popular,andIhadanideaaboutaspecialsectionforchildren,too,thatmightdowellhere….”
Heplacedhisfingertipstogetherinfrontofhim,likeaheadmasterapprehendinganerrantpupil “MissLansdown,mayI remindyouthatthisisoneoftheoldestlibrariesinLondon?Wedothingsproperlyhere,providingeducationandculturefor thepoorofthearea.Thatiswhatourworthypatronswished.”
“Butthe poor are educatedinschools these days” She knew her runawaytongue was gettingthe better ofher,butshe seemedunabletostopit.“Andamuchwiderarrayofpeopleusethelibrarynowadays,andfromallkindsofbackgrounds,too, people who like to meetand talkaboutbooks they’ve enjoyed reading.” Her voice trailed off. “That’s whya readinggroup mightbenice.”
He stopped her, his voice more severe “You will find, Miss Lansdown, that we do not hold with any of these new experimentsinBethnalGreen.”Hesniffeddismissively.“Ishouldalsoinformyouthatthecouncilisconsideringscalingback or evenclosingthe Bethnal Greenbranch.Everyone is toobusywiththe war,longworkhours,andsoforth,andtheymight needtoputresourcestobetteruse”
Juliet’sheartplunged “Thelibrarymightclose?”Hadshearrivedjustintimeforittobeshutdown?Wasshetobesent back,hermissionfailed?Hermotherwouldtellherhowridiculousshe’dbeentothinkthatshecouldhaveindependenceanda career ofher own.Thenher mother wouldfindtherightkindofhusbandtokeepJulietinher place,justas her husbandhad donewithher
Mr.Pruittnodded.“Itmightbebetterforusallifthelibrarycloses.Wecanmoveawayfromthedangersofthecitywith theevacuated.I’mconsideringanopeninginSuffolkmyself.”
Her mindwhirred “Butwehaveadutytodoall wecantokeepthelibraryopen Youcan’tjustgiveup,lettheplace close,notwhenitcanbeasourceofcomfortintimessuchasthese.”
Impatiently,hegloweredather.“Yousee,thisistheproblemwithemployingwomen.Yougettooemotionalandsimply don’tunderstandhowthesethingswork”
“Perhapswithsomeofmynewideas,we’llhavemorepeoplecomingin.Wecanpersuadethecouncil ”
“MayIremindyouthatthisisalibrary,notasocialclub.”Hescowled,asifsheweresimplybeingawkward.“Ifyou wouldprefertoworkinadifferentsortofplace,MissLansdown,Isuggestyouapplyelsewhere.”
Julietreeledback Thethreatwasthere Ifshedidn’tlikethewaythelibrarywasrun,hewouldhavenotroublegetting ridofher.
“Iunderstand,Mr.Pruitt,”shemutteredcontritely.
“Your duties will be to manage the day-to-day running of the place, ensuring the books are reshelved and that the registersarekeptup-to-date.Thatwillbeallfornow.”
“Yes,Mr.Pruitt.”Shestooduptoleave,butthenturnedbacktohimtoasksomethingatthebackofhermind.“Doyou haveanyplansincaseofinvasion?FrancewastakeninJune,andtheysaytheNazishavetheirsightsonBritainnext,soldiers landingonthebeaches,airraidsoverLondon.Whatarewegoingtodoifthelibraryisbombed?”
Asnortofannoyancecamefromhim.“TheNaziswouldn’tdare,”hesaidpompously.“WeBritisharen’tliketheFrench, surrenderingatthefirstturn No,theNazisknowwhatthey’reupagainstwithus”
Tentatively,shesaid,“Butthey’realreadybombingourfactoriesandairfields Thecitymightbenext”
He paused, his eyes glancing momentarily over a newspaper on his desk, the headlines reading “South London Aerodrome Bombed.” But then he dismissed her with a sweeping motion of his hand. “I’m sure there will be further governmentinstructionastohowtodealwithanybombings”Hesecuredhisglassesonhisnoseandlookedbackather,tired of their conversation. “You may go to your lodging now, Miss Lansdown, and I will expect you here and ready for work tomorrowmorningateighto’clockprompt.”
Outside, she gave the auburn-haired girl a weaksmile, and the girl’s eyes flickered to Mr Pruitt’s door witha slight grimace,asenseofcomplicitybetweenthemgivingJulietaflickerofwarmthintheotherwisechillyatmosphere.
Disheartened,shewalkedbackouttothestreet.She’dhopedthatinLondonpeoplemighthavebeenmoreprogressive, thatthewarmighthavechangedthingsaswomensteppeduptoreplacethemenlosttothefrontline Butinspiteofthis,men likeMr Pruittwerestillholdingontothepast,protectingmen’srightstoloftypositionsbecausewomenweresupposedlytoo flighty to be of any practical use. Clinging onto this belief was in men’s interest, after all; they got to keep their power, regardlesswhethertheydeservedit.
Besidethelibrary,theprettyBethnalGreenParklaybeforeher,alawnwithafewtreesandbenches Onesidehadbeen givenovertogrowingvegetablestohelpwithfoodrationing,ashadmanyofthecity’sparklands,andafewoldermenduginto thesoil,theirchattercarryingoverthelawns.
AsJulietwalkedthroughthepark,shelookedforhernewbilletamongthelargeEdwardianvillasonthefarside Their frontgardensgatedandgroomed,theywereamongthemoreprestigioushousesinthearea.Juliethadfoundtheroombywayof anadvertpinnedtothewallintheUpperBeedingdoctor’soffice.Hissister-in-law,aMrs.Ottley,hadacomfortableroomto let
Assheapproachednumber41,Julietnoticedthatthehousewasn’tquiteastidyastheothersonBethnalGreenPark.The frontgardenwasalittleovergrown,andthepaintworkonthewindowsneededattention.Accordingtothedoctor’swife,Mrs. Ottleyhadbeeninstructedtotakeinlodgersbythelocalbilletingofficer;herevacuatedchildren’sbedroomswereneededfor warworkers
Mrs. Ottley might not want a lodger at all, Julietthoughtwithasigh.Itwasoftenthecasethesedays,workersfoisted ontoanyonewithasparebed.
Takingadeepbreath,Julietreaffixedherpillboxhatandstrodeupthepathtothedoor,givingitacheeryknock
Asshewaited,shepeeredintothefrontwindow toseeaclutteredlivingroom,apianowithscoresscatteredover the top,afewbatteredorange-and-whitePenguinpaperbacksleftonthetable.
Butotherthanthat,therewasnosignoflifeatall.
Shewentbacktothefrontdoor,bentdown,andopenedtheletterbox,callinginhermostfriendlyvoice,“Mrs Ottley! Areyouthere?”
“Yes,dear?”Thevoicecamefrombehindher,andsheturnedtoseeashort,plumpwomancomingupthepathcarrying two string shopping bags filled with groceries Around forty with short brown hair, she was dressed in a green Women’s VoluntaryServiceskirtsuitandapairoflowcourtshoestightonherfeet.
“Oh,letmehelpyou.”Juliethurriedforwardtotakeabag.
“Wouldyou,dear?”Shepiledbothontoher “Now,letmefindmykey”
ItwasonlyonceJuliethadfollowedherthroughthehallwaytothekitchen,puttingthebagsdownasdirected,thatMrs. Ottleylookedather.
“Thankyou,er…?”Sheemittedasmallgroanassheeasedherselfintoachairatthekitchentable.
“I’mJulietLansdown IwrotetoyoufromUpperBeeding,abouttheroom?” “Oh,ofcourse!Sillyme!Iforgotyouwerecomingtoday.Letmeputthekettleon.”
Asshelaboriouslypreparedtogetupfromthechair,Julietsprangtothestove.“Icandoit.”
“Thankyou,dear”Onlytoohappytohavesomeonetohelp,Mrs Ottleysettledherselfbackdown “There’smilkinthe parlorbesidethebackdoor,andyoucanfindsomecupsinthesideboard.Youlookveryhandyaroundthekitchen.That’llbe useful.”Sheshuffledherselfcomfortablyintothechair.“Now,dear,whydon’tyoutellmealittleaboutyourself?Whatbrings youtoLondon?”
“Well,I’mthenewdeputylibrarianatBethnalGreen.Doyoulikereading?”
“Oh, I love a good murder mystery. Takes my mind off my children. They’ve been evacuated with the school to Wiltshire” She said Wiltshire withrepulsion, as if the countyitself were to blame “Theyleft at the beginningof the war, nearlyayearagonow”
“Youmustmissthemterribly,butWiltshire’salovelycounty.Aretheywithanicefamily?”
Sheshrugged.“It’sdifficulttosay.They’reonasmallfarm,andtheytellmeabouttheanimalsintheirletters.Itbreaks myhearttothinkofthemgrowingupthere,forgettingallaboutme WhenIseesomeofthewomenaroundherebringingback their littleones,Iwonder ifIshouldfetchmyJakeandlittleIvy,too.Wehaven’thadanybombs here,anditseems cruel to leavethemawayfromtheirhomeforsolong.”
“Butthey’resafewheretheyare,allthegovernmentposterssayso”Julietleanedclosertotrytocomforther “Whatyou needissomethingtotakeyourmindoffit.OnceIstartworktomorrow,I’llbeabletogetsomegoodbooksforyou.Areyoua memberofthelibrary?”
“Ihaven’tthe time, dear” She laughed atthe mere thought “Butthe two Miss Ridleys always pass books onto me they’retheoldsisterswholivenextdoor Althoughtheydon’tseemtolikemysteriesasmuchasIdo”
“Well,whydon’tyoupopinandIcanhelpyouregister?Thenyoucantakeoutthebooksyouwant.”
“I’mtoo busy now they’ve put me in charge of a canteen truck with the Women’s Voluntary Service. All the women aroundherevolunteerfortheWVSifwecan It’sgoodtobeinvolved,butitdoesn’tgivememuchsparetime”Sheglancedat thedishesinthesinkwithdismay.“Andrentingoutroomstakesmoreeffortthanyou’dthink,too.”
Juliet’shandstoppedasshespoonedtealeavesintothepot.“Rooms?Doyouhaveotherlodgershere?”
“Yes,there’salargeannexintheattic,andmynephew’sbeenrentingit He’snotaroundagreatdeal,hassomekindof job thattakes himawaya lot. He’s a lovelychap, fromUpper Beeding, too. Perhaps youknow him? His name is Sebastian Falconbury.”
Juliet’sfacefell “Sebastian?”Thatwasallsheneeded
Seeingherexpression,Mrs.Ottleysaid,“Oh,Ihopedyou’dbefriends,sinceyoucomefromthesameplace.”
Tryingtostaypleasant,Julietsaid,“Well,we’vecrossedpathsafewtimes.”
“I’msureyou’lladorehimonceyougettoknowhimbetter.Verypopularwiththeyoungladiesheis!Andclever,too.” Withgreatpride,Mrs Ottleyadded,“Justbeforethewar,hepassedhislawexams HewasatOxford,youknow?”
Shedidknow.Hewaspartofthesetwhoidledawaytheirtimeatuniversitywithpicnicsbesidetheriver,drinkingand debauching.Juliet’smindslidbacktothevariousvillageeventswhereSebastianwouldturnonthecharmtoallthelocalgirls, sweepingthemofftheirfeetonlytoendthingsashortwhilelater
ButJulietwasfartooclevertobecomeoneofhisvictims
Decidingnotto share this withhis dotingaunt, she made lightofit. “Sebastianwas one ofthe eligible youngmenmy motherwasalwayspressingmetomeet,andassuchheneverstoodachance.”
Mrs Ottleygaveherawink,“Allthemorereasontolikehim,wouldn’tyousay?”
Witha sigh, Julietfound herselfreplying, “Well, actuallyIwas engaged to be married to someone else, so Iwouldn’t havebeeninterestedanyway.”
Withaglanceatherringlesshands,Mrs Ottleyexclaimed,“Ohgoodness,mydear!Whathappened?”
How Juliet wished that she hadn’t brought it up! Slowly, she said, “Victor, my fiancé, went missing at the front in Dunkirk.” It was the same storyshe always told, hopingthat no one would askfor details, prayingthey’d drop the subject quickly Shedidn’tliketothinkaboutVictor,letalonetalkabouthim Thatwaswhyshe’dtakenoffherengagementring to putitallbehindher.
“Oh,youpoordear!”Mrs.Ottleylookedather,aghast.“Wereyouengagedforlong?”
“Quiteawhile,”shesaidvaguely.“Hewassavingupsothatwecouldliveinaproperhouse.Hewasawriter,yousee, expectinghisnextbooktobehismagnumopus,theonetoputhisnameonthemap”Shedidn’tmentionthattheengagementhad goneonforoverthreeyears.ShecouldneverpressVictoraboutitashewouldgetmoody,thinkingthatshewasquestioning thevalueofhiswork.Thatwastheproblemwithbeingagenius;hecouldbeemotionalandtemperamental.Sheoftenthought hewaslikeMr Rochester,darkandtempestuous,capableofdeeppassion,andyetintelligentwitharazor-sharpfocus
Mrs.Ottleyreachedanarmaroundher shoulders,andJulietwas pulledintoa firmembrace.“Thatmustbe awful,my dear,butI’msureanotheryoungmanwillcomealongandstealyourheart.Agood-lookingyoungladylikeyoushouldhaveno troublefindingsomeonenew”
Julietgentlypulledaway.“It’sallright,Mrs.Ottley.I’mbetteroffonmyown.Inanycase,I’malittletoooldnow on the shelf almost.” She made a little laugh. “No, I focus onmyworkand mybooks, and Bethnal GreenLibraryis mynew challenge”
Mrs Ottley patted a plump hand on hers “You’ll change your mind sooner or later, love There’s nothing quite like havinga familyof your own, little ones runningaround the place.” Mrs. Ottleyrummaged inside a capacious handbagand pulledoutalargehandkerchief.“Doyouhaveabigfamilyathome?”
“No,it’s onlyme Myparents areolder and,well,alittlefusty It’s nicetomovesomewherenew Ialways feltoutof placethere,likeIwasgettinginthewaywithallmybooksandnewideas.”
“Well,we’reawarmhappyfamilyhere,andyou’rewelcometobepartofit.”
Cautiously,Julietasked,“AndwhataboutMr Ottley?”Oneneverknewwiththewar
ButMrs.Ottleyflailedahandouttowardthewindow.“He’soffwiththenavy,somewhereintheAtlantic,Ithink.His lettersaresoblackedoutfromthecensors,it’shardtotell.SometimestheonlypartIcanreadis,“DearestWinnie,Withlove fromyourGilbert”
They both laughed, and as Juliet poured out the tea, she couldn’t help feeling herself relax There was a lazy lightheartednesstotheplace,distinctlydifferentfromherownhome.
Mrs.Ottleydrainedherteaandgottoherfeet.“I’dbettershowyouyourroombeforeIgetdinnerstarted.You’llhaveto givemeyourrationbookifyouwanttoeathere,thoughI’mnotmuchofacook,I’mafraid”SheeyedJuliethopefullyasthey wentupthestairs.“Idon’tsupposeyou’reanygood?”
Thelastdooronthelandingopenedintoalarge,lightbedroomwithfloralwallpaper.Ononeside,asinglebedwitha darkpinkcounterpane looked softand inviting, and onthe opposite wall, there was a small wardrobe flanked bya chestof drawers,adressingtable,andasink.
“It’smydaughter’sroom.”Thewomansmoothedthebedcover,leavingher handtorestinthemiddle,andJulietcould sensethewoman’squietgriefatmissinglittleIvy
“Well,I’mverygratefultoherforlettingmestayhere.ThenexttimeyouwritetoIvy,tellherIpromisetotreatitaswell asIcan.”Julietlookedoutofthewindowattheparkinthefrontofthehouse.Amagnoliatreestillborethelastofitswhitepinkpetals,abreezescatteringthemthroughtheair,likesoftsnowslowlyfallingaway.
“I’ll leaveyoutounpack,”Mrs Ottleysaid “Dinner will bereadyatseveno’clockor so We’renever verypunctual, butyou’llgetusedtous.”
AfterMrs.Ottleyleft,Julietwenttothewindow,budgingitopentotakeadeepbreathofthenewLondonair,andinstead ofunpacking,shefoundherselftemptedintothelow,cushionedchairbesidethewindow,acozynookforreading
This is how a home should be, she thought as she settled into the chair She couldn’t imagine her mother being so hospitableorwelcomingtoanyone certainlynotastranger.Asshelookedaroundtheroom,thehand-drawnpicturesonthe wall,thebooksandteddiesontheshelf,shesawthelovethatMrs.Ottleyhadforherdaughter.She’doftenassumedthatmost peopleexistedinstarchyfamilieslikehers,buthere,thiswasadifferentwayofliving,awarmer,moreacceptingplace
Aspredicted,dinnerwaslate.JulietwasstarvingbythetimeshecametofindMrs.Ottleyinthekitchen,surroundedby probablyeverybowlandpansheowned.Julietquicklycommandeeredcookingthevegetables,butitwasn’tuntiltheyfinally satdownatthediningtablethattheyheardkeysinthefrontdoor
“We’reinhere!”Mrs.Ottleycalledinasingsongvoice.“You’rejustintimefordinner!”
Thedooropened,andtherewasSebastianFalconbury.Helookedmuchthesame,hissandy-coloredhairalittletidier, his good-lookingface more mature, his blue-greeneyes sharp and amused Dressed informallyina beige blazer and brown twilltrousers,themanlookedlikehewasstrollinginfromaweekendinthecountry,notaworktrip.Hepulledoutthechairto sitdownasheappraisedthesituation,ahalfsmilecreepingontohislipsashesawJuliet.
Mrs.Ottleywasfussingaroundhim,heapinglargespoonfulsofpieontohisplate.“IthinkyouknowJuliet,don’tyou?”
“JulietLansdown,how lovelytoseeyou”Sebastiangaveher acharmingsmile “Now,whatbringsyoutothispartof theworld?”
“I’mthenewdeputyatthelibrary,”shesaidwithspirit.Sheeyedhimcuriously.“Whataboutyou?Iwouldhavethought you’d have joined up, with all your athletic triumphs and so forth,” addingin an aside to Mrs Ottley, “Sebastian was the championbatsmanofthevillagecricketteam.”
“Actually,IwasinFrance,”hesaidlightly.“Butafterafewbadknocks,theysentmehome.”Itwassaidwithease,asif ithadbeenabitofalarkwhenitwasprobablyrathergrim “Nowtheyhavemedoingwarworkinoneoftheministries”
She knew thatthis was a modestwayofsayinghe was doingsomethingimportant. Alotofjobs inLondonwere high priority,filledbyuniversitymenbroughtbackfromthefronttoworkoncoordinationandplanning,anditdidn’tsurpriseher thatSebastianFalconburywasoneofthem Itwasthekindofthingthatwouldhappentohim,shethoughtwithannoyance,tobe entrustedwiththefateofthenation
“It’s beenquiteawhilesincewemet,hasn’tit?”His eyes seemedtoscrutinizehers.“Wasn’titatthatgardenpartyin UpperBeeding,aboutthreeyearsago?”
“Ithinkitmusthavebeen,”shesaid,eagertomoveon
She remembered itwell. Agardenpartyhad beenset up bybothsets ofparents as a last-ditchattemptto bringthem together. Sebastian’s father, she gathered, was keento reininhis profligate son, and her ownmother was eager to see off Victor The event was uncomfortable for both of them, with Juliet lauding her intellectual fiancé over Sebastian, while he repliedthatVictor’swritingwas“plagiarizedversionsofthegreats.”Loyally,shesnappedbackatSebastianthathisOxford setwere“degeneraterakeswhoweren’tworthyoftheBodleianLibrary.”
Truthbetold,bothofthemhadbeenabitrude
Ever since, she’d been mulling over Sebastian’s little put-down of Victor’s writing, although sometimes she found herselfre-readingitherself,halfwonderingiftherewasanytruthinit.
Justasshewasthinkingthis,Sebastianturnedtoher.“Andwhataboutyou,Juliet?Iimagineyou’vebeenthroughalot sincethelasttimewemet”Hiseyesflickeredtoherhand “IheardaboutVictor I’msorry Thatmusthavebeendifficultfor you.”Therewasaquietearnestnesstohisvoice,disconcertingbesidehisusualironicbanter.
Flustered, she lether knife slip fromher hand, and itclattered onto the plate. How muchdid he know aboutVictor’s disappearance? Theytended to put the menfromUpper Beedinginto the same platooninthe Royal SussexRegiment Had SebastianbeeninDunkirkwhenVictorvanished?
IfheknewthetruthaboutVictor,whatwouldhethinkofher?
Withanguish,sherememberedthetelephonecallsfromVictor’smotheraboutthetelegrams:Thefirstnotifiedthemthat hewasabsentwithoutleave;thesecondthathewasbeingtreatedasadeserter.Whenorifhewasfound,hewouldbesubject tocriminalcharges.
She’dbalked:Therehadtobeamistake.
Victor hadalwaystalkedaboutloyaltyandselflessnessasiftheywerecornerstonesofhimself,oftheir relationship It couldn’tpossiblybetrue.
After that awful telephone call, she’d takenoff his ring, puttingit into the verybottomof her jewelrycase. She was determinedtoblockitoutofhermind,buryingherselfinwork Ifsheignoreditlongenough,hopefullyitwouldallturnoutto
beahideousmistake
Avoiding Sebastian’s gaze, she quickly changed the subject, turning her attention to their landlady. “Mrs. Ottley was tellingmehowshehelpswithaWVSmobilecanteen.Suchterrificwork,”Julietsaidwithspirit.
“I’mnottheonlyone”Mrs Ottleygrinned “SebastianisintheAirRaidPrecautions TheARParegoingtohelpwith thebombingraids,iftheyeverhappen.”
“They’llcome,allright,”Sebastiansaid.“NaziplaneshavebeenbombingclosertoLondoneveryweek.Iwouldn’tbe surprisediftheylaunchamassiveaerialcampaign,justastheydidinRotterdambeforetheyinvadedtheNetherlands”Fora moment,helookedconcerned.“Ionlyhopewe’reready.”
Mrs.Ottleylookedproudlyon.“SebastiandoestheARPthreenightsaweek, and hehasafull-timejob,too.”
He shrugged “It’s mostly blackout checks, walking the streets making sure people aren’t showing any lights for the Germanplanestosee.”
“You’llbeverybusyiftheplanesstartcomingover.”Mrs.Ottleygrimaced.“Wedidafirst-aidclasslastweek,andthey saidit’llbeallhandsondeckifLondon’sbombed.Everyonewillhavetovolunteer.”SheglancedatJulietexpectantly.
“Well,absolutely,”shesaid,unsure
“Ifyoucandrive,there’sagreatneedformoreambulancedrivers.”Sebastianraisedaneyebrow.“Unlessyourlibrary positionkeepsyoutoobusy,ofcourse.”
“Well,perhapsI’lllookintoitonceI’vesettledin,”Julietmuttered,unsurehowwellsuitedshe’dbe Likemostwell-todogirls,she’dlearnedtodriveononeofthecarsathome.Butwhataboutthedanger,thelackofsleep,thegrislinessofit? She’dalwaysbeensqueamish,unabletodealwithbloodandgore.Shewasalibrarian,notamedic.
But Mrs Ottley was beaming “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, dear The ambulances are attached to the ARP, so who knows,perhapsyou’llrunintoeachother.”
Sebastian and Juliet’s eyes met across the table as they acknowledged Mrs. Ottley’s very obvious attempt at matchmaking Thenheasked,“Howisyourjobgoing?Ihaven’thadtimetogetovertothelibraryrecently”
“Well,Iofficiallystarttomorrow,butiftodayisanyindication,it’salittlebittooquiet”
“We’re all too busywiththis war.” Mrs. Ottleyhelped herselfto more cabbage. “Workingwhere we’re told, making sandwichesoutofnothing,sendingourchildrentostaywithpeoplewedon’tknow.”
ToJuliet’ssurprise,insteadofdismissingMrs Ottley,Sebastianreachedoverandpattedherarm “Iknowit’shard,but you’rerightnottobringthemhome.Haveyouheardfromthem?”
“Nolettersthisweek,”shesaiddolefully.“ButatleastIhaveyouheretokeepmecompany,andJulietnow,too.”She lookedoveratJuliet “Sebastian’smarvelouswithmylittleones,givingpiggybacksandplayingtrains”
“Andtheyare bothfirmfavorites ofmine.” He grinned.“Inanycase,Ihadtopass onmyexpertise inmodel trains to someone,didn’tI?”
Julietmused “Ididn’tseeyouasthetypeofmanwholikesmodeltrains,orspendingtimewithchildren,forthatmatter” “He’swonderfulwiththem,”Mrs Ottleyansweredforhim “Allhisfather’scaremixedwithhismother’ssenseoffun” “Iliketothinkso.”Hestraightenedhisjacketwithmockpride.
ButMrs.Ottley’smindhadgonebacktoherchildren.“Idowishtheywerehere.”
“They’re safer outthere,” Sebastianreassured her “IfLondon’s bombed, life will become difficultand dangerous At least they’re out of harm’s way, and it gives youthe chance to do your WVS work. The mobile canteens youhelp runare invaluable.Iknowit’sasacrificetoletyourchildrengo,butyou’rehelpingtokeepthiscountrytogether.”
Preciselywhatitwasaboutthisspeechthatbaffledher,Julietcouldn’tbesure Butshefeltback-footed,asifshe’dhad Sebastianallwrong.
Hastily, she began eating again, famished as usual. The food rations always seemed to leave her feeling hungry, but tonight’spiehadrealmeat,thankheavens “Thisisabsolutelydelicious,Mrs Ottley Wheredidyoumanagetogetsteak?It’s quitethebestI’vehadformonths.”
Thewomanchuckled.“Igotitfromthefishmongers,ofallplaces.Theyhaditonsale.Bigwhoppingsteakstheywere, lovely.Ihavenoideawhatthefishmongerwasdoingwithmeat.Hemusthaverunoutoffish.”Shecarriedoneating,failingto noticethathertwocompanionshadputtheircutlerydown
FirstJulietandthenSebastianbegantolaugh.
“I never know what youyoungfolkfind funnythese days,” she said, pickingup the servingspoon. “Anyone else for seconds?”
AndthenJulietbarelycontainedherselflongenoughtosay,“It’swhale,Mrs Ottley Youboughtapieceofwhalemeat,” beforelaughingonceagain.
“Areyousure,dear?Itlooksjustlikesteak.”
“Somefrozenwhalesteakshavebeencomingin,andthey’rebeingsoldinthefishmongers,”Sebastianexplained “Even thoughwhalesaren’tfishatall,they’remammals,whichiswhyitlooksandtastesalittlelikebeef.”
“Well,Inever!”Mrs.Ottleysaid,takingapieceonherforkandsniffingit.“Ithoughtithadanoddsmell.”
Thenshebegantolaugh,too,andsomehow,somewherealongtheway,thefrictionbetweenthetwolodgersbroke,the conversationturningtothenew clothesrations,abarrageballoonsailinglooseover Hampstead,andasingingcontestinthe localchurchhall.
August 1940
TO KATIE UPWOOD, BOOKS wereeverything.Fromherprecioushistorytomestothestretchofencyclopedias,shereveledin having the knowledge of the world at her fingertips. It might be just for the summer, between leaving school and starting university,butherlibraryjobwasajoyandaprivilege,offeringplentyofquietmomentstocreepintothehistoryaisle
This particular afternoon she stood among the shelves replacing the returns. The scent of almanacs mingled with the occasionalwaftoftheroseperfumewornbytheoldRidleysistersatthenewspapertable,thesoundofmutedvoicesblending withtherustleofturningpages
Althoughshewasrelishinghersummerjob,shecouldn’twaittostartuniversity She’dalwaysbeentopofherclass,and whenthemenwenttowarandmorecollegeplaceswereofferedtogirls,hernamehadbeenputforward.Althoughshefelta little guilty,takinga spotfromthose onthe front,she couldn’tbelieve the opportunityshe’dbeengiven.The firstgirl inher schooltogotouniversity,shewastheprideofherteachersandheradoringmother,too
After a quickcheckthatMr.Pruittwas safelyinside his office,she drew outa foldedpage fromher pocket.Onlythat morning, she’d had a letter fromChristopher, who was fightingonthe front. She’d read ita few times already, smellingthe pageforanyscentofhimasshecarefullyopenedit
Likeher,hewaseighteen,andlikeher,hewasoneofthebookishonesatschool.She’dbeensoproudofhimwhenhe signedup,thedayafterhiseighteenthbirthdayinthespring,buthownaïveitseemednowthatthewarwassoreal!Christopher wasn’t built for fighting What if something happened to him? She let out a soft moan: Why had she encouraged yes, encouraged! himtogo?
My dearest Katie,
Finally I have time to write, but you have to know that even though my letters are sparse, I think about you all the time We are always so very active, going from one camp or battle to another Luckily, I have managed to escape injury, but there have been a number of men down, and a whole platoon was taken POWyesterday, others MIA.
The men in my platoon are good fun They call me “Old Boy” as I’m the youngest I wish I’d brought along some books Believe me, war can be as dull as it can be frightening
BETHNALGREENLIBRARY
They say we’ll have leave at Christmas, and I can’t wait to see you I think of you in your job in the library all those books, you must be in Heaven!Do you remember the day we hid behind the shelves in the biography section? I don’t think I’ll ever think of Darwin or Dickens in quite the same light!
Take care of yourself, my angel I can’t tell you how much I miss you Enjoy university once it starts and write and tell me all that you learn.
Yours forever, Christopher
Hewouldhavebeengoingtouniversityaswellifhehadn’tjoinedup,shethoughttoherselfasshequietlypocketedthe letter.
Itwasthreeyearsagothatthey’dfirstbecomefriends.Hewasthetall,ganglyboyinthehistoryclass,andshewasthe keengirlsittingatthefront He’dslippedherabook, The Edwardians, andshe’dreaditthatnight,barelyabletowaituntilthe nextdaytodiscussit.ThentheymovedontotheItalianRenaissance,medievalfiefdoms,Greektragedies.
Afterafewmonths,theybegantowalkhometogetherthroughthepark,sittingonthebenchunderthemagnoliatree,the longbranchesofpink-whitebloomsdapplingthesunshine That’swheretheirhandsaccidentallytouched,hisfingerscovering hers as she passed hima battered copy of The Rise of the Educated Classes It had felt electrical, as if her energy were suddenlyfierce,alive,grounded.
Ifithadn’tbeenforthebooks,Katiewouldhavefeltself-conscious,unsure,shy.Noonehadevershowninterestinher before;whywouldthey?Shorterthanaverageandwithatendencytoblushalot,sheseemedtoblendintothebackgroundat school.
ButwithChristopher itwas different. He wasn’thandsome until yougotto know him, withhis pastycomplexionand mid-brownhair Buttoher,hewasbeautiful
Tentatively,they’dbeguntoholdhands,andthenoneday,astheywalkedhome,heaskedifhecouldkissher.
“Allright,”she’dreplied,andthereandthen,onthecornerbesidetheentrancetotheundergroundstation,heleanedhis headdownandpressedhislipsontohers
Gradually,their meetings increasedinintensity,butitwasn’tuntil Christopher begantosneakKatieuptohis bedroom thattheybegantoexploreeachothermore.Bothofthemnaïveinthewaysoftheworld,theyletinstinctdrivethem.Themore theyentwined,themoreshefeltofthemasone:twoseparatehalvesthattogethermadeawhole.
As she gazedintothe middle distance betweenthe bookcases,she was shakenfromher reverie bythe twooldladies Theyhadrisenfromthenewspapertable,stoppingforaquietword,astheyoftendid.
“Whatdoyouthinkaboutthenewdeputy?She’sbringingabitofenergytotheplace,don’tyouthink?”TheelderMiss Ridley,Irene,hadano-nonsenseapproachtolife Thelocalheadmistressformanyyears,sheonlyeverreadtheclassics,with aspecialplaceinherheartforShakespeare.
The younger sister, Dorothy, looked on eagerly. Aformer nurse, she was more whimsical than her sister, a lover of romanceanddrama
Katie had got to know the Miss Ridleys well over the summer. They came to the library every day to read the newspapersandperusethebookshelves,theirsilverheadsbenttothesidetoreadthetitlesonthebookspines.
“Julietcertainlyhasplentyofspark,”Katieagreed
The new deputywas beautiful, cheerful, and exceedinglywell-read Beside her, Katie feltyoungand a bitscruffy, her ginger hair mismatching her dress, slightly tight now due to all the potatoes. The food rations meant lots of starch and vegetables,notidealforthewaistline.
“Mr Pruittisn’tsokeen,butJuliethassomewonderfulnewideas,”Katiewenton “Shewantstostartareadinggroup, meetingeveryweektotalkaboutbooks.”
“Golly,thatsoundsfun!”Dorothyrubbedherhands.
Irene had thatdetermined glintinher pale blue eyes “Well, Katie, you’re the one who knows how to getaround Mr Pruitt.Whydon’tyougiveJulietsometips?”
“Well,I’mnotsure ”
“There’snoharmintrying,”Dorothyurged
Virtuallypushed bythe old ladies, Katie was propelled backto the maindesk, takingJulietto one side “Some ofthe regularsthinkyourideaforanewreadinggroupiswonderful,only ”Shepaused,unsurehowtogoon.“I’veworkedherefor awhilenow,andMr.Pruittwon’tbudgeonsomethingifyoukeeptryingtopresshimintoit.”Sheleanedcloser.“Youhaveto beabitmorecrafty”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Youhavetogivehimwhathewants,andthenyousimplydowhatyouwantbehindthescenes.”
Julietgrinned “Craftyindeed,Katie!Theonlytroubleis,Ican’tmakeheadortailofhimatall WhatonearthcouldIdo tokeephimhappy?”
Katie glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t around. “He wants aneasylife, sittinginhis office, writing letters,andreadingthenewspaper”Katielaughed “Heusedtoleavetheday-to-dayrunningtotheolddeputy,sowhydon’t youlethimthinkhecandothesamewithyou?Don’tmentionanythingaboutthereadinggroup.Hetakes everySaturdayoff work,sowhydon’twesetupthefirstmeetingforaSaturdaymorning?”
Baffled,Julietsaid,“Buthowcanwetelleveryoneaboutthemeetingifwecan’tletMr.Pruittknow?”
“TheMissRidleyswillspreadtheword,andmaybewecouldmakealeafletofsorts,quietlyhanditaroundtopeople whomightbeinterestedinsteadofputtinganythinguponthenoticeboard.”
Juliet’seyesflittedtotheoldladies,nowbackatthenewspapertable.“Thosetwoarequitethemischiefmakers,aren’t they?Dotheyevergoanywherewithouteachother?”
“NotthatI’veeverknown,eventhoughtheyneverseemedtoagreewitheachotheronanything.Theyalreadysaidthey’d askMarigoldSaxbytocometothemeeting,too.”
“IsMarigoldanotherregular?”
Katienodded.“She’squiteacharacter,usedtobeasinger,thenshemarriedJasonSaxby alocal gangster,orsothey say.Youcan’tmissher;she’saboutforty,veryblond,anddresseslikeshe’sabouttogoonstageanyminute.”Katiemadea littlelaugh “Butshe’slovelyandhelpstheMissRidleysalot She’scompletelyaddictedtoromances”
“Agangsterhusband,yousay?”
“Apparently he’s making a fortune with forged ration books and identity papers. The war has caused all sorts of undergroundnetworkstopopup.IthinkMarigold’sinvolvedwithsomedodgydealings,too.Wordis,she’stheoneyouneed toseeifyouwantaprivatedetectiveorsomethingontheblackmarket atleast,that’swhattheMissRidleyssay theyliketo gossipmorethanthey’dcaretoadmit.”Asshelaughed,shefeltthethrillofexcitementaboutthenewreadinggroup.“Dosay you’llsetitup,Juliet!I’msureit’llbeagreatsuccess.”
“Well, whynot? We’ll call it the LibraryBookClub,” Juliet declared, thenadded ina whisper, “Provided youdon’t thinkwe’llgetintotroubleifMr.Pruittfindsout.”
“Takeitfromme,evenifhedoeshearanything,heknowsit’llbeeasierforhimtopretendhedidn’t.”
Afterwork,Katiewalkedhomethroughthepark,hergasmaskboxbangingagainstherside Shehadn’trealizedjusthow excitedshe’dbeaboutabookclub ItwassomethingpositivetolifttheirspiritsamidallthetalkofaNaziinvasionormass bombingraids.
Katie’sfamilylivedinoneofthelargerhousesonthepark,thepropertyboughtbyherfatherinthehopesofimpressing his clients Akeeninsurance businessman, he recognized how important it was to personifywealthand respectability His customersknewthefamilypersonally;theyweremembersofthechurch,parentsattheschool,friendsfromtheneighborhood. Presentingtherightimpressionwascrucialtohissuccess.
Theentirefamilyhadbeendrawnintothis,too Katie’s universityplacewas peddledas a“means ofmeetingtheright kindofhusband.”HeryoungerbrotherRupert’sineptitudewasbrushedoffwithajollylaugh:“Boyswillbeboys.”AndMrs. Upwood’slower-classbackgroundwascarefullycoveredupbyelocutionlessonsandtipsshe’dreadinsocietymagazines.
Butthe more successful her father became, the more he seemed to loathe his family’s deficiencies, especiallyKatie’s mother’s.Hecontinuallypickedatheroversmallslips,angrilyleavingthehousetospendeveningswithclientsandhisnew setoffriendsinsteadofwithhisfamily.
Katieletherselfinthefrontdoor.“Hello-o,”shecalled.Takingoffhercoat,shepeeredintothefrontroom.Asusual,it was spotless, her father insisting on an exemplary interior just in case a client popped around unannounced Expensive artworksandornamentsadornedtheroom,alongwithlushrugsandluxuriousgold-tasseleddrapes.
Her mother was usually at home, except when she had her women’s groups, so Katie walked quickly through to the diningroomtofindher Butit,too,wasempty
Where is everyone?
Pickingupspeed,shestrodedowntowardthekitchen.“Mum?”
Andthereshewas.Butinsteadofherusualuprightform,dressedupfortheWVS,shewassittingatthekitchentable,her handswindingthrougheachotherasasmallflybuzzedatthewindow,itsbodytappingsporadicallyontheglassasittriedto getthrough.
“Mum?”Katiehurriedoverandpulledupachairbesideher.“Areyouallright?”
But whenher mother turned, there was a pallor to her face “Katie? You’re home early, Iwasn’t ” She paused, not knowinghowtogoon.
“I’mnotearly,Mum.ShallImakeyousometea?”Katiefeltherforehead,butitwascool,slightlydamp.
“I’mfine,”shesaidquietly “It’syou,mydear You’retheonewhoneedstea”Slowly,shepulledoutasmall officiallookingenvelope,thekindthatcontainsatelegram.Placingitonthetable,shepusheditovertowardKatie.
“Butit’snotaddressedtome,”Katiesaidbeforeregisteringtherecipient.“Christopher’sfather,”shemurmuredasshe readthename.
Therecouldonlybeonereasonwhythisenvelopewashere
Alightheadednesscameoverherasshepulledoutthesingle,typedsheet.
MR E F DONALDSON46HATCHROADBETHNALGREEN
DEEPLYREGRETTOINFORMYOUTHATYOURSON46986PVTCHRISTOPHERJOHNDONALDSON
HASBEENREPORTEDMISSINGINACTION,PRESUMEDDEAD LETTERTOFOLLOW OCRICHARDS
Katie’sworldspun,thetableswoopingoverandaround,thekitchentakingonagrayblurriness
“Christopher?”shewhispered.
Hermothertookherintoherarms.“I’msosorry.Hewassuchalovelyboy,afineyoungman.Whataterriblethingto happen”
Katiefeltherbreathingstop,anythingtomakethisnewsgoaway
“Iknow.Itseemstoomuchtotakein,”hermothersaid,lookingatthetelegraminfrontofher.“Hisfathercouldhardly speakwhenhecamein,thepoorman.”
Katie’sfacepaledwithincomprehension “ButIhadaletterfromhimthismorning”Shepulleditoutofherbag,opening itasifitwereproof.“He’salive,yousee.He’sfine.”
Hermotherputahandonherarm,hereyesbeseechingher.“Butthistelegram,itcan’tbeamistake,itcametoday.That’s hisfather’snameonit,theiraddress Andyourletterwouldhavebeenwrittenweeksago”
Katieshookherheadbriskly.“Itjustdoesn’tfeellikehe’sgone.”
Hermotherheavedasigh,pullingherchairover.“Iknowit’snoteasytotakein.”
Katiepaused,somethinginsidehercrumbling “Buthecan’tbedead Hesimplycan’t!”
Unable to find words, her mother put her arms around Katie, holding her as close as she could always the solid, reliablepersoninherlife.
Convulsingwithhysterics,Katieburiedherfaceinhermother’sshoulder,butasherstomachheaved,shepulledaway, barelymakingittothebathroombeforetheentirecontentsofherstomachwereejected,asifherbodysimplycouldn’tbearto hearanymore.
Andshebudgedthewindowopen,lookingoutintothesky.
“Whereareyou,Christopher?”shecriedintotheair “Whereareyou?”
August 1940
ARGUABLY THE BEST HOUSE onBethnalGreenParkbelongedtoMr.Wainwright,andhedideverythinghecouldtomakesure everyoneknew it.Theroomsweresplendid,albeitold-fashioned.Theluxuriousbluedrapesandsofafabricswereperfectly cleanedandironed Theshelvesandmantelsladenedwithstatuettesweredusteddaily Beforeshehaddiedafewyearsago, his wife had been the self-appointed doyen of style in the locality, and now after her loss, her widowed husband was determinedtomaintainhiswife’sreputationinbothupkeepandcleanliness.
Orrather,hewasdeterminedthehousemaidwould
Hisvoicebellowedfromthelivingroom “Baumann!”
“Coming,Mr.Wainwright.”Sofieleftthehalf-finishedwashingupandhurriedtoseewhathewanted.Morethanayear hadpassedsinceherarrival,andshestillstruggledtocopewiththelonghours,confusingwork,andthesheercoldseclusion oftheplace nottomentionherunpleasant,abrasiveemployer
Neverhadshefeltsoalone.
She awoke atfive, alone inher graylittle roominthe cellar, dressingquicklyinher graymaid’s uniform. Then, also alone,shecaughtupwiththelaundrybeforemakingbreakfastandwaitingtableforthemostfussy,bad-temperedmanwhoever lived,makingherwishthatshewasonceagainalone.
Inside her head, she replayed novels and poems as she polished and ironed, shopped and cooked, always alone. Her memorieswereheronlycompanyasidefromthenow-tatteredcopyofpoetrybesideherthin,graycot
Atnightshewouldcollapseintoit,exhausted,andreadapoemortwo,feelthewordssinkintoher,becomeher,before fallingasleep,thebookclutchedtoherchest.Thosepoemswereherfriends,herfamily,andhersanity.
She hurried into the livingroom, where Mr. Wainwrighthad settled downto listento the radio. Agrim-faced, dogged manofover sixty,hedidn’twork,as far as Sofiecouldmakeout,andfilledhis days readingthepapers,harrumphingatthe radio,andmakingdemands.
“Youneedtogotothelibrarytoday,getabookwithamapofEurope.Ineedtoseethelocationoftheseplacesthey’re talkingabout onthe news The library’s onthe mainroad, beside the park Mind youget a good map, none of that foreign rubbish.”
“Thelibrary?”
36BETHNALGREENPARK
Sheknewwhereitwas,ofcourse Mostdaysshemadeadetourtowalkbesidethebeautifulbuildingasshewenttothe grocer’s,butneverhadshedaredtogoinside.IfshedidanythingoutsideofMr.Wainwright’sinstructions,he’dthreatentotell theauthorities,havehervisacanceled.
Butnowhewasaskinghertogo
Hermindsoared.Howshe’dlongedtogoinside,feelthatsensationofbeingsurroundedbybooksagain.Andwhatabout thepeoplethere?Wouldtheybekinderthanthisodiousman?
“Baumann?”Mr Wainwright’svoiceroaredthroughherthoughts “IthoughtItoldyoutoplantthosewintervegetables” Hejabbedafingerathisnewspaper.“Itsaysit’sourpatrioticdutytouseeverypartoflandwehavetoproducefood.Iknow you’renotBritish andyoushouldbegratefulIdon’tholdthatagainstyou butitmustbedoneimmediately.”
“I’msorry,sir,butIhadtoclearawaythebushes,andsomeofthemweredifficulttogetout”Pullingupthehydrangea and the heftylaburnumhad wrecked her hands. The sores were still painful. “And Ican’t do the gardeninginthe evenings becausewearen’tallowedtohavelightsoutsideduetotheblackout.”
Hegrunted.“IknowIcan’texpectyoutothinkforyourself,butsurelyyoushouldmovethehouseworktotheeveningand usethedaytimeforthevegetableplot?”
She clenched her jaw shut to stop herself frombarking back at himthat she wasn’t stupid, and he was the one that demandedshe didthe houseworkduringthe daysohe couldrelaxinthe evenings withouther “bustlingabout.” She’dnever doneajoblikethis neverevencleanedorcookedbefore butsheknewhistreatmentofherwasn’tright Shecamefroma goodfamily,onewherepeoplewerepolitetotheirservants.
Calmingherself,shespokecarefully.“Iusetheeveningstodothemendingyouwanted.WouldyouratherIsetthataside inexchangeforthehousework?”
Heflickedthenewspaper downtolookather,agrowl onhis flabbymouthas hesnarled,“You’ll havetoworkfaster then.Don’tyouunderstandyouareahousemaid,youstupidgirl?Thisisyourjob!”
Trembling,shemadeasmallbobandmuttered,“Yes,sir”Itdidn’tpaytochallengeMr Wainwright Theyellow-purple marksonherarmborewitnesstohishottemperandspitefuldissatisfactionwithlife
Atthebeginningofthewar,theother maidandthenthecookhadquicklygrabbedjobs inthenew munitions factories, wellawayfromMr.Wainwright.
ButSofiecouldn’tleave
Hervisawastiedtothejob.Ifsheleftorwasfired,shewouldbeforcedontothefirstboatbacktotheNazis.
AnditwasafactMr.Wainwrightneverceasedtoexploit.
Asshesatonherbed,shepulledoutherfamilyphotograph HowshewishedRachelandPapawerethere,buttherehad beennodomesticvisasforeitherofthem.NowshewasstuckinLondononherown.
Shewasbarelyholdingherselftogether.Howeasyheroldlifehadbeen,fullofbooks,andmusic,andlaughter.Nowall thosethingsweregone Shehadnofamily,nofriends,nothingexceptfear
Oneofthecallusesonherhandsopened,bloodoozing,andasshereachedforabandagetostopadropofbloodsliding downherwrist,shebarelynoticedthedistantnoisefromoutsidegrowinglouder.
Itwastheair-raidsiren.
“Notagain!”Sheletoutalong,lowgroan,beforegettingupandploddingupstairs,thewailgrowinglouderwithevery step.
Thesirencameeveryfewweeksfornoreasonatall.Atfirst,fearhadgrippedSofiewheneversheheardit,freezingher to the spot, unable to move Had she come all this way, left dear Papa and Rachel, worked herselfto the bone, onlyto be moweddownbyaNazibomber?
Gradually,itbecameclearthatthesirenswereeitherfalsealarmsoronlysmallpartiesofplanesbombinganaerodrome orfactory OtherthanoverhearingMr Wainwright’sradio,theonlyaccesstonewsshehadwasonthenewspaperheadlinesin theshopsorthesnippetsofgossipsheheardwhileliningupatthebutchereverymorning.Despiteherbestefforts,shebarely knewwhatwashappeningwiththewar.
Atthetopoftheservants’stairs,shestopped,creepinguptothelivingroomdoor.Mr.Wainwrightneverallowedherto listentothenewswithhiminthelivingroom,butifshekeptquiet,shecouldstandinthecorridorandcatchafewthings “Anairraidisinoperation,”theannouncersaid.“Sowewillbeoffairuntiltheallclearsounds.”
Sofiefrowned.TheBBCusuallycarriedonbroadcastingthroughfalsealarms. “Baumann!Baumann!”Mr Wainwright’svoicethunderedthroughthehouse
“Yes,sir”Shewentintoseehimonhisfeet,bargingpastfurnituretothewindow Amusclepulsatedinhischeek,forcinghiseyelidtoflickeruncontrollably.“Gooutside.”Heflickedafatfingertoward thepark.“Seewhat’shappening.”
Grabbingthe basket so that she could continue onto the shops if it was another false alarm, she hurried out into the sunshine.Ithadbeenagloriouslate-summerday,andevennow,ataquartertofour,thesunbeamedwarmthontoherexhausted face.
From the park, she could see across the rooftops and spires of the city, the sky speckled with silver-gray barrage balloons.TheircablesforcedNaziplanestoflyhigher,whichstoppedthedivebombersthathadcrushedothercities.Oneof theballoonswaspositionedrightabovetheparkitself,themassivebehemothabullet-shapedblobaboveher.Sofiegazedat theirsoftforms,wonderingwhethertheywerebetteratkeepingtheNazisoutorshowingthemwhereitwouldhurtthemost
On the green, other residents had gathered to gaze up at the horizon. Mostly neighborhood women, they smiled and greetedoneanother,wonderingwhattodo.
Afewplanescouldbeseeninthedistance,butthatwasall,andinafewminutestheallclearwassounding thesame air-raidwail,butplayedonlyonce Everyonebegantoreturninside,andwithaglancebacktothehouse,Sofiehurrieddown tothemainroad.
Bethnal GreenLibrarystood like a beacon, a reminder ofher home, ofthe girl she had once been. Itseemed a distant dream,aworldofcultureandwords,ofhigherpursuitsthanplantingvegetablesandscrubbingthelatrine
Asshewalkedinside,astillnesscameoverher,andthenslowly,shebreathedthemin,thebooks.Evenifshecouldn’t spend longthere, somethingabout the place made her feel normal, creative, full of stories, full of promises, and she felt a suddenlongingtocurlupamongthem,rightthere,andsleepforathousandyears
Themainatriumwas breathtaking,andshestoodinthecenter marvelingattheexpanse,therows uponrows ofbooks, theirfamiliarscentinfusingtheairlikemagicalrevelationsreadytochangelives,toalterpossibilities.
“Doyouhaveamapbook?”sheaskedawomanreshelvingstockinthenearestaisle
“Wehavesomejustdownhere,”shesaidbrightly,showinghertheway “I’mJuliet,thedeputyhere Areyounewtothe area?”
Sheshookherhead.“I’mjustahousemaid.”
Julieteyedher curiously “Youlivebesidethepark,don’tyou?Ido,too IthinkI’veseenyoucomingandgoing”She glancedattheemptybag.“Wouldyoulikealibrarycard?”
Usually,Sofiewasn’tallowedtoconversewithstrangers,butsomethinginthewaythewomansmiledather madeher yearnforsomekindofconnectioninhertoo-smallworld “Iwould,verymuch”Shefeltacatchinherthroatasshefollowed Juliettothemaindesk,wherethedeputyopenedaboxoflibrarycardsandfilledonein.
“Now,what’syourfullname?”
“SofieBaumann”
“YoumustbefromcentralEurope,”Julietsaidcheerilyasshewrote
Loweringhervoice,Sofiemurmured,“Thisisnotverypopular” sheglancedatthefloor “butIamfromGermany.” Shewaitedforthewomantowinceorpullaway,butJulietmerelylookedupfromherwriting.
“Well,ifyou’reGerman,”shesaidwithadecisivesmile,“theremustbeaverygoodreasonwhyyou’rehere” “I’mJewish,”Sofiesaidsimply.“Ineededtoescape,withthewaythingsweregoing,andtheonlywaytogetavisato liveinBritainwastotakeajobasaservant.”
Juliet nodded, lookingher over: her stance, the lookonher face “But youweren’t a servant backinGermany, were you?”
Slowly,Sofieshookherhead,standingalittletaller.“Ilivedwithmyfamily,andwehadservantstocleanforus.”She letoutasadlaughattheirony “ItwasourmaidHildewhotaughtmehowtocleanandcookbeforeIcame ButIamluckyjust tobeoutofGermany.Grateful,too,only…”
“Ican’timagineit’sbeeneasy.”Julietencouragedheron.
Sofie’seyesglanceduncomfortablyatthekindwoman.“Ihavenoideawheremysister andfather are.Ihaven’theard fromtheminnearlyayear,andIworryallthetime”
“AretheystillinGermany?”
Sheshrugged.“InthelastletterIreceived,mysistersaidshewasleavingoverlandthroughFrancewithaneighbor,but myfatherrefusedtogo,certainthathewouldslowthemdown”Shecurledherfistwithfrustrationathisstubbornness “She
saidthatourhousehadbeentakenbythegovernment,andmyfatherwasforcedtogotolivewithfriends”Sofiewasn’tsure whyshe was openingup to this woman, butthe words came tumblingout, unstoppable. “I’mworried abouthim aboutmy sister,too.NowthatFrancehasbeentakenbytheNazis,itmustbeverydangerous.Iwanttohelpher,butIdon’tknowhow.I don’tevenknowwheresheis IfeellikeI’mlettingherdown lettingbothofthemdown”Emotionwelledupinsideher “DoyouknowtherouteyoursisterwasgoingtotakethroughFrance?”
“ShewasgoingtotrytogettothenorthcoastandtakeaboattoBritain,that’swhatshesaidbeforeIleft.”Sheglared intoJuliet’seyes “SheistravelingwithourneighborFrederick HehasblondhairandcangetawaywithbeingAryan” Juliet’sfacecreased.“Isthatsoverynecessary?”
“Togetacrosstheborder,itisessential.Butitisriskythough.Youcouldbespottedbysomeonewhoknowsyou,oryour papersmightbesearched”
“Howterrible,tohavetohideyourselfinyourowncountry!”
“Webecameprisonersthere.Itwassogradual,firstonelawtocloseourshops,thenanothertostopuslivinginacertain area.NowtheNazishavesomuchcontrol,I’mscaredofwhattheywilldowithit.”
“Thatmustbeagonizing,nottoknowwhereyourfamilyare,howtheyare”
“Andall Icandoiskeeponworking,keeponstayingalive,prayingthatonedaywewill emergefromthisnightmare, unscathed,andgobacktowherewewerebefore.”
“I’msosorry”Shepaused,lookingatSofie’seyesandhands “Andisyourworkallright?Youremployerseemsabitof acharacter.”
Sofiefrowned.“Heknowshowtokeepmebusy.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Julietaskedunderherbreath “Ihopehedoesn’ttreatyoubadly”
Sofieinstinctivelyputherhandonherarmtocoverthemarkswherehe’dgrabbedher.“Ineedthejobtokeepmyvisa, andheknowsthat.Maybethat’swhyhehiredaJewishrefugee.Idon’tknowhowhe’dgetanyoneelsetoworkforhim.”
“Somepeoplearedespicable,”Julietsaidwithfeeling “Perhapsyoucouldtrytogetanotherjob YourEnglishisvery good Wereyoustudyingitbeforeyoucameover?”
“Yes, Iwentto a Jewishschool, and whenthe Nazis came to power, people beganto thinkaboutjoiningrelatives in AmericaorhereinBritainandtheybeganteachingusEnglish.”
“Whatahorrifictimeyou’vehad!Youmustcomebacktothelibraryanytimeyoucan Doyouliketoread?”
“Ido,verymuch.”Sofieheardatremorinhervoice,soincrediblewasitforsomeonetobesokind.“Myfather’slibrary wasmyfavoriteplaceinourhouse.”Shegazedacrosstothespiralstairsrunningupthehighshelvesaroundthewalls.“Itfeels sogoodtobehere,likeIcanbreatheagain”
Julietsmiled.“That’showitisforme,too,thefamiliarityofbookshelvesnomatterwhereyouare.Allthosestoriesto delve into, to lose yourself inside.” There was somethingwistful inJuliet’s gaze for a moment, and thenshe asked, “What booksdoyoulike?”
“Ilikeshortstories,butIthinkpoetryismyfavorite”
Julietleanedforward.“We’reholdingabookclubhereonSaturdaymorningifyou’dliketocome?Youcouldmeetother people,feelalittlelessalone.”
Sofiesmiled,butthenthefearcameback,theutterdreadthatshemightbecaught “I’lltrytofindanexcusetocomefora while.”
“It’llbeavariedcrowd,butIpredictaspiritedconversationandplentyoflaughs.”Julietponderedforamoment.“And theremightbesomeonewhocanhelpyoufindyourfamily”
Sofiedoubtedit,butsheappreciatedtheeffortJulietwasmaking.“Iwilltrytocome.”
Conscious of the time, Juliet helped her find a map bookfor Mr. Wainwright and thenplanted a second bookinher hands “Thisisforyou Somethingtokeepyougoing,whetheryou’vereaditornot”
Sofieturneditover.“ShortstoriesbyAntonChekov,howwonderful!”
“Myfavoriteistheonecalled‘TheLadywiththeDog,’”Julietsaid.
SomethinginsideSofieseemedtobothopenandcrush,andshelongedforherfather’soldlibrary wouldsheeverbe thereagain?Withalumpinherthroat,shepinnedthebooktoherchest “Itisperfect,”shesaid,slidingitintoherbagwiththe mapbookbeforeglancingworriedlyatthedoor.“Thankyou,Juliet,forlisteningtome.Ican’trememberthelasttimeanyone did.”Beforethetearsthatwerebuildingbehindhereyescouldescape,shedartedoutintothestreet.
Andthereshewasagain,backbytheshopswhereshetrudgedeverymorning,backintothemiseryofhernewlife
Onlythis time, as she dashed throughthe park, a new springlifted her step There was a bookmeetingto attend, and comehellorhighwater,shewasgoingtogetthere.
Butmorethanthis,insideherbag,likeagoldenbeamoflight,wasanewbook,avisionofthoughtandhopeanddesire allengulfedinthoseslim,crowdedpages
THE BETHNALGREEN LIBRARY NEWSLETTER
AUGUST1940
Welcome to our new monthly newsletter! Keeping everyone up-to-date with what’s happening in the library
BETHNAL GREEN LIBRARY BOOK CLUB
Every Saturday 10 a m
All are welcome!
NEW MEMBERS
The Bethnal Green Library needs new members!
Please ask your family, friends, and neighbors to join
JULIET HURRIED THROUGH THE old,vaultedlibrary,warmedbythesunlightstreamingthroughthedome.She’dhandwrittena monthlynewsletter eventhoughit was alreadyhalfwaythroughAugust passingit around to the regulars to keep it away fromMr.Pruitt’sbeadyeyes.
After Katie’s advice about keeping Mr Pruitt away from her plans, she was getting into her stride People were respondingto her new ideas, and a number ofnewcomers had registered for librarycards. Hopefully, word would spread, bringingmorepeopletothelibraryandstoppingthecouncilfromclosingitdown.
Todayshewasbristlingwithnervousexcitement
Thefirstbookclubmeetingwastobeheldinthereadingroom,anda greatdealwasridingonit.Mr.Pruittwasboundtohearaboutitsoonerorlater,andifitwasasuccess,hecouldhardlyputan
endtoit
Aflutter oflightchatter came fromthe double doors as the Miss Ridleys arrived.Always neatlyturnedout,theywere hotlydebatingsomethingbetweenthem. Althoughatfirsttheyseemed indistinguishable, withtheir softwhite hair pinned up behindtheirheads,Juliethadnoticedthattheolderone,Irene,wasdaintier,eventhoughshewasclearlytheoneincharge The youngerone,Dorothy,wastallerandmoredisorderly.Shewasalwaysreadytodisagreewithhersister,atangofrebellionin thejutofherchin.
AsJulietjoinedthemheadingintotheleadedglassreadingroom,shesawthatsomeonewasalreadyinsideit
“AndyoumustbeMrs.Saxby.”
Thewomanbeamedupather.“CallmeMarigold,”shesaidinadramaticvoice.Ahandsomewoman,MarigoldSaxby certainlymade the mostofwhatshe hadbeengiven Her heavymascara anddyedblondcurls made her lookas ifshe were heading for a night spot rather than to a library. Draped languidly on a chair, she wore a knee-length blue silk dress with matchinghigh-heeledshoes sofancy,Julietthought,thattheymusthavebeenboughtbeforethewar.Aminkcoatwaspropped casuallyoverhershoulders.
“Darlings!”shecriedastheMissRidleyscameinbehindJuliet “Howwonderfulofyoutotellmeaboutthis!”
“Weknewitwouldbemorefunwithyou,Marigold,”Dorothysaid.
Quietly,Katieslippedin,takingaseatbesideDorothy.
“Howareyou,mydear?”Ireneasked
Butthe girl onlymurmuredpolitely,“I’mfine,thankyou,” whenshe obviouslywasn’t.The news abouther youngman hadputherintoatailspin.
“Anicechatwilldoyougood,”Dorothysaid
Avoicefromthedoorcalled,“AmIlate?”andtherewasMrs.Ottleywithagrocerybag.
“Lovelytoseeyou!”Julietofferedheraseat.“Shallwestart?”Andwithaplomb,shemovedtothefront asshe’ddone somanytimesinUpperBeeding
“Welcome to the first meetingof the LibraryBookClub First of all, I’d like to saya word about whywe are here: Books.”AfewchuckleswentaroundthesmallroombeforeJulietwenton.“Tome,booksarelikeoldfriends,tellingusgreat truths,holdingourhandsthroughthedifficulties,showinguslightandjoyattheendofeverytunnel.”Shegazedaroundatthe faces “SometimesallIneedistoseemybatteredcopyof Pride and Prejudice toknowthatthecharactersarethereinsideme, warmingmyspirit,tellingmetolivelifeonmyownterms,comfortingmethateverythingwillbeallrightintheend.”
Aheartyagreementwentaroundtheroom.
“Weallhaveourfavorites,”Julietcontinued “SoI’dliketogoaroundthegroup,introducingourselvesandsayingwhat kindsofbooksweenjoy.”
TheMissRidleyswentfirst,describingthemselvesas“literarydoyens.”IrenesaidshelikedVirginiaWoolfandEdith Wharton,andalthoughDorothyprofessedtolikingDickens,Irenestated,“Butshehasaproclivityfordramas,invariablythose featuringatragiclovestory,aninheritancebattle,andsomeonedyingundersuspiciouscircumstances”
Marigoldsaidthatsheonlyreadromances “especiallythoseRegencyones,swashbucklingheroesandgutsydamsels.”
Katiesaidthatshelikedhistorybooks.“Ohyes,andencyclopedias,too.”
“And I like murder mysteries,” Mrs Ottley said, adding with relish: “A good Agatha Christie makes for a perfect evening.”
“Oh,Iagreeheartily!There’snothingquitelikeamurdertoperkupthespirits,”Dorothysaid,makingeveryonelaugh.
Julietgrinned,delightedwithhowitwasgoing “TodayIwanttodiscusswhatmakesafavoritebooksomagicalthatyou comebacktoittimeandtimeagain.”
“We were justtalkingaboutthat, weren’twe, Irene?” Dorothylooked ather sister. “Shall we find outwhatthe others think?”
“They’ll agree withme,ofcourse,” Irene said,as ifitwere a foregone conclusion.“We were discussingwhichofthe Brontënovelsisthebest,andtherereallyisnocontest. Jane Eyre isbyfarthesuperiorone.”
Secretly, Julietsmiled to herself. Ofcourse the no-nonsense former headmistress liked the strong-willed heroine who spokeoutandwonrespect
Nonetheless,Dorothywasadamant.“But Wuthering Heights hasHeathcliff!HeabsolutelytrumpsMr.Rochesterevery time.”
“Notthatbarbarianagain!Janeissuchaforthrightwoman,aheadofhertime”
Marigoldbattedhermascaraedeyelids “Well,I’vealwaysbeenaHeathcliffwoman,plainandsimple Don’tyouwant toriphisclothesoff?”Sheletoutaburstofraucouslaughter,andDorothy,partshocked,partdelighted,joinedin.
The battle ensueduntil a voice came fromthe door.“Has the meetingalreadystarted?” Itwas the youngrefugee.Thin andpale,shehadhaunteddarkeyesinaheart-shapedface,herdarkhaircomingloosefrombeneathabeigeclochehat
“Sofie, come and joinus!” Julietgotup and pulled a chair over beside hers, turningto the others. “Sofie is a Jewish refugee.She’sworkingasMr.Wainwright’shousemaid.”
Before she could finish, Irene Ridleywas alreadytuttingloudly “Ihope that manis beingagreeable He’s a bit ofa swineisErnestWainwright.”
“Well,heworksmeveryhard.”Sofielookedatherhands,andJulietsawthescabs.
“Perhapswecouldhaveawordwithhim”Dorothy’seyesfollowedJuliet’stothegirl’swounds “Andmaybeyoucould letmehavealookatthosesores,too.Ihavesomeantisepticointmentsathome.”
Sofielookedatheruncertainly.“Th-thankyou.”
Andthat’swhenJulietdecidedtobroachthesubjectofhelpingSofiefindherfamily.Itwasn’tquiteasshe’danticipated inhermindJulietwouldquietlyintroducethetopic butneedsmust Shecouldn’tlettheopportunityslipaway
“IaskedSofietocometodaybecauseIthoughtsomeoneheremightbeabletohelpher,”Julietsaid,hereyesflickering uncontrollablytoMarigold.“Sofieis tryingtofindher sister andtheir neighbor.TheyaretravelingthroughFrance,tryingto escapetheNazis”
Thegirl’seyesbegantogleamwithtears.“Iwanttohelpthem,butIdon’tknowhowIcanwhenIhavenoideawhere theyare orifthey’reevenalive.”
Therewassilenceforamoment,DorothyputtingahandonSofie’sarm
Butthenavoicecamefromtheothersideoftheroom.“Imightbeabletohelp.”ItwasMarigold,pullingherfurcloser aroundherneck.“Iknowafewpeoplewhoearnabobortwodoingaspotofinvestigating.I’msuresomeonemightgiveyoua fewtips,forasmallfee”Shegavethegirlawink
Withapprehension,Sofiesaid,“Thankyou,thatisverykind Willitbemuch?”
“Afewpoundsshoulddothetrick.Whydon’tyouwritedownthenameofyoursister,anythingyoucanrememberabout theirplannedjourney,andI’llpassitalong.Putdownyourownaddress,too,andiftheyhearanything,you’llgetanotethrough thedoor”
Carefully,JuliettoreapagefromhernotebookandpassedittoSofiewithapen.
Sofiebegantowrite.“I’mveryworriedforthem.Evenbeforethewar,myjourneyherewasincrediblydangerous,and nowwithFranceoccupied,anythingcouldhavehappened”
“Youpoorthing.”Marigoldtookthepaperandtuckeditintoherhandbag.“Leaveittome,love.I’llseewhatIcando.”
Julietwaslookingatasmallpileofbooksonthetable.“Whatyouneedinthemeantimeisagooddiscussiontotakeyour mindoffeverything”
“Idolovetoread,”Sofiesaid “Booksaretheonlythingthatkeepmegoing,akindofhomeinsidemyheart”Hereyes wenttotheneatpileonthetable,andshepulledoutacopyof Ulysses. “Ihaven’tseenthisinyears.JamesJoycewasoneof thewritersbannedinGermany.”
“Werealotofbooksbanned?”Ireneasked
Sofie’sfaceclouded.“Iremember thenightofbookburninginBerlin,justafter Hitler cameintopower in1933.Papa tookuswithhim,eventhoughIwasstillonlythirteen.ThewholeofOperaSquarewasacolossalfire,largerthananyI’dever seen Youngmenwereshoutingandchanting,throwingbooksintotheflames Itwasterrifying,monstrous,thesepeoplethinking theycouldobliteratehistoryandcultureandreinventitthewayitsuitedthem.Myfatherwantedustoseeitsothatwecould understandwhatwascoming.”
“Booksgivepeopleideas,andtheywantonlytheirNaziideastoprosper,”Irenesaid,hereyesmeetingSofie’s “That’s right,” Sofie nodded. “The Nazis have this organizationcalled the Chamber ofCulture, who are there to make sureeverythingpublishedandbroadcastbacksHitlerandhisideologies.Alistof‘acceptableauthors’cameout,andwehadto gothroughourownbookshelvesandbringthebannedbookstoacollectionpointfortheburnings.Theytookplacealloverthe country”
“Didyoutakeyourbooksdown,too?”Dorothyasked.
“Wehadto.Ifyoukeptyourbooks,theywouldburndownyourwholehouse.Thewarningwasclear:Dowhatwesayor wewillburnyou”
“Andwasitthesameforbookshops?”Ireneasked
Sofie nodded. “Most were burned, but libraries were kept open as cultural centers. They were quickly filled with Hitler’sbooksandnewauthorspedalingNazipropaganda.Thebannedauthorsfledthecountry.PapatoldmethatBrechtleft
immediately,saying,‘Whereyouburnbooks,youultimatelyburnpeople’”
TheysatinsolemnsilenceuntilDorothyasked,“Whichauthorswerebanned?”
“Most of the good German authors and everyone Jewish, of course. A lot of European authors were banned, too. I watchedthemstriplibrariesofTolstoy,Huxley,andDostoevsky,andAmericanauthorslikeHemingwayandScottFitzgerald “Thenwebegantohearwhispersaboutundergroundlibraries.Peoplehidtheirfavorites,sharedthemwithothers.Itwas risky,butitwasthesmallrebellionsthatmadeyoufeelalive,likeyouhadpoweroversomethinginyourlife.”
“Well,we’dbetter findsome books for youtoread,” Dorothysaid,passingher a batteredpaperback “Have youever read Wuthering Heights? If nothing else cheers you up, Heathcliff most certainly will. It’s like you’re running through the YorkshireDales,feelingthefreshaironyourface,desperateforHeathcliff’sbodynexttoyours.”
“Don’tbevulgar,Dorothy,”Irenesnapped.Butthensheadded,“Itisaclassicthough,Sofiedear.Althoughperhapsyou wouldliketoread Jane Eyre afterward?You’llbesavingthebestforlast”
Asthediscussiondissolvedoncemoreintothemeritsofeach,Julietfoundherselfsittingback,thinkingaboutwhatwas happeninginGermany.Howluckytheirlittlegroupwastoliveinacountrywherelibrarieswerestillfreetohousetheworld’s wealthofhistoryandculture
“Whataboutyou,Juliet,you’renotasillyromantic,areyou?”Irenewaslookingforsupport.“Whatdoyouthinkabout love?”
Julietcoughed,thinkingofVictorandavoidingtheirgaze “Well,itisn’tforeveryone,isit?”
“Comeon,love!”Marigoldgoadedherwithanudge.“Theremustbeayoungmanyouhaveyoureyeon,isn’tthere?”
Shakingher head, Julietdeclared, “Who needs a manwhenIhave this glorious libraryto manage, filled withfellow readers and books! But to answer your original question, I’m not a romantic at all” And she added with a grin, “I’m a librarian,arealist,andathoroughlyno-nonsenseperson”
Andasthelaughterechoedthroughthewindowedroom,Julietcouldn’thelpfeelingherheartwarmingtothisnewplace, thisnewchallenge,andthesenew,unlikelyfriends.
