“I think so. We should have enough petrol coupons since no one has used our cars since Alfie left. The boat is docked in Folkestone, and hopefully the Navy will have people there. I’m sorry, but we may need to spend the night in Folkestone. Unless the sky clears and there’s a moon, we won’t be able to drive home in the blackout.” Nervous energy and fear fueled Audrey’s babbling. Eve seemed calm, as usual, concentrating on the road and the busy traffic. Silvery barrage balloons hovered in the sky above them, swaying from their tethers as Audrey directed Eve southeast through London.
“I never drove this car in the city before,” Eve said, dodging around a red bus. “Just so you know.”
“I trust you.” Rain began falling as they reached the city’s outskirts. “Oh no,” Audrey moaned. “Rain will slow us down even more.” The whir and swish of the wipers grated on her nerves as if whispering, Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry! According to her uncle, Great Britain would be forced to surrender if the Army wasn’t rescued.
Eve leaned forward in her seat as if trying to get a better view of the road through the steady rain. “Alfie used to speed down to the sea in less than two hours,” she said. “He drove so fast he scared me half to death! It’s no wonder nothing looks familiar to me—the countryside used to go by in a blur.”
“Thank you for agreeing to drive me. You—” Audrey started to say she considered Eve a good friend, someone she could always count on, but the words died on her tongue with the realization that she hadn’t been a very loyal friend to Eve. She probably wasn’t doing this for friendship’s sake. “You must care a lot for Alfie to just drop everything and do this for him,” Audrey said instead.
“I’m in love with him.” Eve said the words so softly that Audrey barely heard them above the roar of the motor and the noisy wipers. “I would gladly spend the rest of my life with him if he would ask, but I don’t think he ever will. I know he sees other girls besides me.”
“I’m sorry for not being more helpful. I honestly can’t think of a better wife for him than you.” Eve gave her a questioning look before turning back to the road. “I mean it, Eve. My brother deserves the best, and you have so much more character and . . . and vitality than the other girls he knows. And certainly more courage. But to be perfectly honest, he would have to defy both of our parents in order to marry you. Mind you, Alfie always does what he pleases. And he gets away with a lot, knowing he’s the heir. But he will likely cave in to their pressure in the end. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“It’s too late for that. I already love him. Whatever happens now, when it finally does happen, it’s going to hurt.” She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket, and Audrey thought she was going to use it to wipe away tears. Instead, she cleared moisture from the inside of the windscreen.
“Let me do that,” Audrey said, taking the handkerchief from her. “Listen, I hate to sound trite, but surely there must have been a queue of other men interested in you before they all went off to war. You’re so beautiful, Eve.” It was true. Eve had an unspoiled beauty that didn’t require cosmetics and hair waves, a girlish innocence enhanced by her wild sandy hair, clear gray eyes, and endearing freckles.
“Well, your charming brother has ruined all other men for me,” Eve said. “I’ll hold out for him as long as there’s hope, even though I know he’ll probably never marry me. I never finished school, my mum is a maidservant, and I work as a typist with a dozen other girls who are going nowhere.” She released a sigh, then said, “What about you, Audrey? Is there a man in your life?”
“Hardly. The courtship process in my world is so artificial that it’s impossible to fall madly in love. And that’s what I want to do—fall madly in love with a man who loves me and not my father’s money. It’s very hard to distinguish the difference, I’m afraid, since the men I know have been trained to go through all the proper motions and say all the right things. Alfie flouts the rules, and I hope he finds true love someday, but his peers are afraid to stray from the narrow field of women their parents have chosen for them.” And in the end, Audrey would dutifully marry the man her mother chose for her.
“Mind if I open my window a bit?” Eve asked, turning the crank. “It’s getting muggy in here.”
“No, go ahead. The air might keep the windows from fogging.” Audrey had been wiping steadily for several minutes with Eve’s soggy handkerchief.
“So what’s going on at Wellingford Hall these days?” Eve asked. “The last I heard you were housing evacuated children from London.”
“We did house them. Thirty, at one point. The village was thick with them, too. But all of ours are gone, now.” Thankfully, she wanted to add. “And most of the ones in the village, too.”
“What happened to them?”
“The war didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so they all drifted home. Within four months, we were down to only eight children. Some of them got homesick—they said it was too quiet in the country. Some were called home because their mums missed them. But a lot of them went home because their parents were required to pay six shillings a week for their board, and why waste all that money when the bombs weren’t falling as everyone feared?”
“Well, we’re in for it now. We’re the only ones left to fend off the Nazis.”
“Which we can’t do without an army. We have to rescue every man we can.” Again, Audrey forced back her panic, willing herself to be calm. Fear twisted her stomach into so many knots these days that she could barely eat. She drew a steadying breath, releasing it slowly. “Sorry, but I never asked how you’ve been, Eve. You mentioned working as a typist?”
“Right . . . but I’ll probably be sacked when I don’t show up for work tomorrow.”
“Oh, Eve! I’m so sorry! I never should have presumed you could get away on such short notice.”
“It doesn’t matter. To tell you the truth, I hate my job. It’s dead boring. All I do is type memos and invoices all day. I hate being cooped up inside all day. At least as a scullery maid I could nip outside once in a while and wander George’s gardens—Wellingford’s gardens, I should say.”
Audrey sympathized but knew her murmurs of pity would sound false. She hated city life too and longed to return to the peace and quiet of Wellingford Hall. But at least she could return.
The road grew darker and murkier as night approached, the lowering clouds thicker near the coast. The reality of war struck Audrey as they passed spiky strings of barbed wire and piles of sandbags blocking off side roads and farmers’ fields. Guards stopped them at three different checkpoints to search their car. By the time they reached Folkestone, where the boat was moored, the car had slowed to a crawl, the road barely visible. Twice, they stopped to ask directions to the marina. Audrey recognized it once they arrived, and exhaled in relief, glad to have accomplished her mission. “We’ll hand over the boat and be done.”
Eve parked and cut the engine. She leaned back in her seat, rolling her head as if to relieve the tension in her neck and shoulders. The air was cool and thick with moisture as they got out of the car. Audrey tasted salt on her lips.