Connie Willis - Blackout

But Lady Caroline was already saying briskly, “Go and tell the children to pack their things, Ellen. You can take the train Monday.”

And you’d better hope the retrieval team doesn’t show up before then, Lady Caroline, Eileen thought, going along to the nursery. Or I’ll be out of here without so much as a backward glance, and you can take the Hodbins to London yourself.

She packed the children’s bags and her own the next day, said goodbye to Una and Mrs. Bascombe, who were leaving on the bus, endured one last lecture on the dangers of talking to soldiers, fed the children their tea, put them to bed, and then waited till they were asleep and the house was quiet to sneak out to the drop.

The moon was still up, and she only had to use her torch once, to find a way through the barbed wire. The clearing looked enchanted, the ash tree’s trunk silver in the moonlight. “Open,” she murmured, “please,” and thought she saw the beginnings of the shimmer, but it was only mist, and even though she waited two more hours, it didn’t open.

It’s just as well, she thought, picking her way back in the gray predawn light. I couldn’t really have abandoned poor Theodore to the Hodbins.

She ran across the dew-wet lawn, let herself quietly into the kitchen, and started up the back stairs. Binnie was standing barefoot in her nightgown at the top of them. “What are you doing up?” Eileen whispered.

“I seen you go out. I thought you was trying to sneak off on us.”

“I went out to see if any clothes had been left on the line,” Eileen lied. “Go back to bed. We’ve a long train ride in the morning.”

“You promised you wouldn’t leave us,” Binnie said. “You swore.”

“I’m not leaving you. We’re all going to London together. Now go back to bed.”

Binnie did, but when Eileen got up a few short hours later, she nearly fell over her, lying wrapped in a blanket in front of her door. “Just in case you was lyin’,” Binnie said.

Lady Caroline left at eight in the Rolls-Royce the Duchess had sent for her. Without so much as offering us a lift, Eileen thought furiously, and her anger helped her get the children dressed and assembled, and off to Backbury. The lane, which for the past week had been packed with military vehicles of all sorts, was utterly deserted. They didn’t pass a single lorry on the hour-long, luggage-laden walk into town. Binnie whined that her suitcase was too heavy, Theodore demanded to be carried, and every time an aeroplane went over Alf insisted on stopping and marking it on his planespotter’s map. “I wish the vicar would come along and give us a ride,” Binnie said.

So do I, Eileen thought. “He’s not here,” she said. “He’s in Hereford.” But when they reached Backbury, Eileen took them past the vicarage on the off-chance that he hadn’t left yet.

The Austin wasn’t there. I never got to say goodbye to him, Eileen thought, bereft. Well, she supposed it served her right. After all, she’d been prepared to leave them all without a backward glance how many times? Including last night.

And you’re only a servant, she told herself, hurrying the children through the village. It was nearly 11:41. She hustled them out to the station.

Mr. Tooley came running out. Oh, dear, they hadn’t missed it, had they?

“I warned you ruffians not to come round here again-”

“They’re with me, Mr. Tooley,” Eileen said quickly. “We’re leaving for London on today’s train.”

“Leaving? For good?”

She nodded.

“Them, too?”

“Yes. The train hasn’t come yet, has it?”

Mr. Tooley shook his head. “I doubt it will today, what with the big bombing raids on London last night.”

Good, the Blitz had begun. Polly’d be there. “What sort of bombers were they?” Alf asked eagerly. “ME109s? Junker 88s?”

Mr. Tooley glowered at him. “You put any more logs across those tracks and I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life,” he said, stormed back into the station, and slammed the door.

“Logs across the tracks?” Eileen said.

“It was a barricade,” Alf said. “For when ’Itler invades. We was just practicing.”

“We was gonna move ’em afore the train came,” Binnie said.

One more day, Eileen thought. “Sit down, all of you,” she said. She upended Alf and Binnie’s suitcase and sat them down on it to wait for the train. And please let it come soon.

“I see it,” Alf said, pointing above the trees.

“I don’t see nothin’,” Binnie said, “you’re fibbing,” but when Eileen looked where he was pointing, she could see a faint blur of smoke above the trees. The train was definitely coming. It was a miracle.

“All right, gather up your things,” she said. “Alf, fold up your map. Theodore, put your jacket on. Binnie-”

“Look!” Alf said excitedly, jumped off the platform, and ran toward the road with Binnie at his heels.

“Where are you-?” Eileen said, glancing anxiously up the tracks. “Come back here! The train-”

It was approaching rapidly. She could see it emerging from the trees. “Theodore, stay right here. Don’t move,” she ordered him and took off for the platform steps. If those two made them miss the train…

“Alf, Binnie! Stop!” she shouted, but they weren’t listening. They were running toward the Austin, which roared past them and skidded to a stop at the foot of the platform stairs.

The vicar leaped out and ran up the steps, carrying a basket. “I’m so glad I caught you,” he said breathlessly. “I was afraid you’d gone.”

“I thought you were in Hereford.”

“I was. I got stopped on the way home by a wretched troop convoy or I’d have been here earlier. I’m so sorry you had to walk all that way with the luggage.”

“It’s all right,” she said, feeling suddenly that it was.

“I thought you said drivin’ fast was only for emergencies,” Binnie said, bounding up onto the platform.

“You was going a ’undred miles an hour,” Alf said.

“Did you come to say goodbye to us?” Theodore asked.

“Yes,” he said to Eileen, “and to bring you-” He stopped and glared at the train, which was nearly at the station. “Don’t tell me the train is actually on time. It hasn’t been on time once since the war started, and now today of all days.… At any rate, I brought you some sandwiches and biscuits.” He gave her the basket. “And.… Alf, Binnie, go fetch the luggage,” and when they did, he said quietly, “I rang the Children’s Overseas Reception Board.” He handed her an envelope. “I’ve arranged passage for Alf and Binnie on a ship to Canada.”

To Canada? That’s where the City of Benares had been going when it was sunk by a U-boat. Nearly all the evacuees on board had drowned. “Which ship?” Eileen asked.

“I don’t know. Their mother’s to take them to the Evacuation Committee’s office-the address is in the letter-and they’ll take them to Portsmouth.”

The City of Benares had sailed from Portsmouth.

“And this is for you as well.” He handed her an envelope with several ten-shilling notes inside. “To cover your train fare and the children’s expenses.”

“Oh, but I can’t-”

“It’s from the Evacuation Committee.”

You’re lying, she thought. It came out of your own pocket.

“It isn’t fair to ask you to pay your own way when you’re doing the committee’s job,” he said. He glanced over at Alf and Binnie. “I’m certain you’ll earn every penny.”

“The train’s ’ere,” Alf said, and they both looked over at it.

It came to a whooshing stop.

“Thank you,” Eileen said, handing the envelope back to him, “but I don’t want you to have to-”

“Please,” he said earnestly. “I know what a worrying time this has been for you, and I thought… I mean, the committee thought that at least you shouldn’t have to worry about money. Please take it.”

She nodded, blinking back tears. “Thank you. I mean, please convey my thanks to the committee. For everything.”

“I will.” He looked at her searchingly. “Are you all right?”

No, she thought. I’m a hundred and twenty years away from home, my drop’s broken, and I have no idea what I’m going to do if I can’t find Polly.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” the vicar said. “Perhaps I can help.”

I wish I could tell you, she thought.

“Come along,” Alf said, yanking on her sleeve. “We gotta get on.”

She nodded. “Children, gather up your things. Here, Binnie, take Theodore’s duffel for him. Alf, take your-”

“I have them,” the vicar said, picking up the bags. With his help, she got them and Alf and Binnie up the steps onto the train. This one wasn’t crammed with troops, thank goodness.

“Now you, Theodore,” she said.

Theodore balked. “I don’t want-”

Oh, no, not again, Eileen thought, but the vicar was already saying, “Theodore, will you show Eileen what to do? She’s never been to London on the train before.”

“I have,” Theodore said.

“I know, so you must take good care of her.”

Theodore nodded. “You go up the steps,” he instructed Eileen, demonstrating. “Then you sit down-”

“You’re a miracle worker,” Eileen said gratefully.

“Part of my job,” he said, smiling, and then soberly, “London’s extremely dangerous just now. Do take care.”

“I will. I’m sorry I won’t be here to drive the ambulance after all your lessons.”

“It’s all right. My housekeeper’s agreed to fill in. Unfortunately, she shows the same aptitude as Una, but-”

“Come along,” Alf called from the top of the steps. “You’re makin’ the train late!”

“I must go,” she said, starting up the steps.

“Wait,” he said, catching hold of her arm. “You mustn’t worry. It will all-”

“Come on!” Alf shouted, dragging her aboard. The huge wheels began to turn. “I get to sit by the window-”

“Goodbye, Vicar!” Theodore shouted, waving.

“You do not get to,” Binnie said. “Alf says ’e gets to sit by the window, but I want-”

“Shh,” Eileen said, leaning out. The train began to move. “What?” she called back to the vicar.

“I said,” the vicar shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth, “it will all come right in the end.” The train picked up speed, leaving him behind on the platform, still waving.

And if we no more meet till we meet in heaven, then joyfully, my noble lords and my kind kinsmen, warriors all, adieu! 

“OPEN THE DROP!” POLLY CRIED, IN HER PANIC HAMMERING on the peeling, nailed-shut door with both fists. “Colin! Hurry!”

The scream of the bomb rose to a painful shriek. Polly clapped her hands over her ears. Oh, God, it’s right on top of me, she thought. It’s a direct hit, and dropped to her knees, her head ducked against the eardrum-shattering sound, the expected blast.

But there wasn’t any blast, only a deafening, bone-shaking boom, followed by the rattle of things falling and then fire-engine bells. They stopped nearly a quarter of a mile away.