Anna cringed before her father’s rage. “How could you reject one of the best men in London? And don’t give me some silly twaddle about how he doesn’t understand you. What’s to understand? You’re not complicated.”
Michael swayed; the result not only of his limp. “I’ll be ashamed to see Ronald, the best partner a man could ask for. We’ve always been proud of you. Now you’re acting like Patsy.”
Anna lifted her head and stamped her foot. “You can’t dominate me like you do Mom. I have your genes and they tell me I need a spine. I will never marry Charles.”
Margaret rushed to give Anna a hug. “You’re right. Your father dominates me and sometimes I resent it, yet I wanted a strong man so I must be happy.”
Margaret’s pretty features twisted into a smile, a futile effort to hide unshed tears. Anna suppressed a pang of sympathy regretting the pain she’d caused her mother. However, she was too angry to take the words back and tried to ignore Michael’s retreating back. She winced at the slamming of the door.
* * *
Anna managed to revel in the company of family and friends at the party. Charles and Ronald Harding were conspicuous in their absence. The partiers played the phonograph, danced and laughed, the war many world’s away.
At the height of the merriment, Michael abandoned his chair beside Margaret and ignoring his limp, danced with Anna.
He whispered in her ear, “I love you daughter, no matter what.”
Tears of gratitude filled her eyes.
* * *
Anna paused on the steps of the factory to inhale the pure, fresh air. She felt like an escaped prisoner leaving the noisy boring job behind her. The only good thing about the factory was the music they played to relieve some of the monotony. Anna thrilled to Mozart and Mantovani’s Orchestra. She also savoured the independence the two pounds a week gave her.
Anna clutched three oranges. She’d stood in a long queue to retrieve them. They should placate her parents. Her mouth moistened in anticipation of the juicy taste.
Anna rubbed her forehead where a headache plagued her and used the now soiled handkerchief to dab at her sore eyes. The shift at the factory always left her covered in dirt and grime and longing for a warm, sudsy, fragrant tub. With any luck today she wouldn’t have to settle for a sponge bath.
Anna glanced around and sighed with pleasure. Thank God. There was no sign of Charles. He wouldn’t be attempting to “walk her home” in his usual fashion.
The man was incorrigible, insisting on taking her hand in his large, sweaty paw and trying to kiss her despite the lack of privacy on the busy street. Anna always pulled out of his embrace but Charles insisted he would never give up until she consented to marry him.
Michael radiated happiness whenever he saw Anna and Charles together. Her father couldn’t seem to give up the idea of their union. He already hinted for a grandson.
Anna decided to enjoy her newfound freedom by taking the long way home, something she never did in Charles’ company.
The day was perfect for walking, with sun-filled skies and everything lush and green. She thrilled to the singing of birds.
Her euphoria withered when she paused to watch five children playing within the rubble of a building. Their tattered clothes hung on their dirty, poorly nourished, and pale bodies. She shook her head at the memory of the rosy cheeked children of pre-war London. Thank God we sent Robert to Wales.
Nonetheless, the youngsters exuded happiness. Anna allowed herself a bittersweet smile. Children had the capacity to live in the moment, something she appreciated more and more in these war-torn times.
Tears darkened Anna’s gritty eyes. Such a shame for innocents to have to play in an environment filled with such desolation. Anna rubbed her arms to dispel the sensation of ugliness and filth.
The realization her feelings were derived from more than her surroundings was a small revelation. She hated the brown, loose-fitting trousers and olive green jumper that did nothing for her complexion. Her long hair was pulled into a snood, a bag made out of fishnet and elastic that prevented her hair from becoming entangled in the machines. For some reason her hair style was a final insult.
Shaking her head, she pushed the feelings aside and continued on her way. She managed to enjoy the rest of her walk. The route took her past a movie theatre showing Gone With the Wind. If she and her parents ate spam for the next week, she could probably treat her mother to the movie while her father visited the local pub.
* * *
Anna clutched her heart. Air raid sirens wailed. Would she have time to get to the tube? A loud, terrifying buzz filled the air. Dear Lord, it must be one of the vicious German V1 bombs that were as frightening as they were deadly.
She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat. Anna scurried futilely in circles. Where to run? The tube was too far away. Finally, she stood still and prayed while she counted what she thought to be five seconds, the way to discern the bomb’s location.
The five seconds stretched like five hours. Five, Four, Three…she could still hear buzzing, Two, One…Nothing. No sound meant the bomb hovered directly overhead.
Anna dropped to the pavement on her stomach and clamped her hands over her ears. There was no time to get to the tube. She prayed silently for an eternity that was only a millisecond. “God, let me live. Please let me live.”
The bomb impacted with a torrent of crumbled stone. Shards of glass rained down around her, one just missing her wrist by inches. The precious oranges rolled from the suddenly nerveless fingers of his left hand.
Anna’s heart pounded in her ears. The odd taste of fear filled her mouth. She could barely move. She coughed in vain attempting to dislodge the soot, ashes and dust filling her mouth. Heat suffused her body; it felt like she was on fire. Dear God, was everything on fire around her?
Surprisingly, she could see a little bit. Bodies and bits of bodies littered the street where blood flowed like water. Anna tried to call for help, but it turned into a cough.
She struggled to move her arms and legs and realized with certainty her left arm must be broken, the pain sent spots dancing across her vision. Her right arm and legs didn’t particularly hurt, but she could move them only a little. Where were the fire fighters and rescue crews? If they couldn’t find her, she’d die in this stifling, confining pile of rubble.
Time passed and she must have lost consciousness for a time. A certain sensation of resignation stole over her, somehow calming the terror gibbering in the back of her thoughts.
In a curious detached way Anna wondered if she would gaze upon the gates of heaven or the infernos of hell. It was hot enough for hell. Did she even believe in heaven and hell?
She closed her eyes and swallowed. At least, she was still alive, but for how long? The pain made her dizzy and she was parched for water. Every part of her body ached.
* * *
After what seemed like an eternity, hope arrived in a flurry of sirens and commotion with the arrival of fire engines, ambulances and sniffer dogs.
Anna was reminded of their family dog, Brandy, when the two black Labrador Retrievers scrambled and sniffed in the rubble. Anna had loved Brandy and cried for a day when she died. In wartime, food was scarce for people, non-existent for pets.
Anna gathered her strength, determined to scream loud enough to be heard. She strived hard to draw attention and each time ended up coughing. She refused to give up. Finally, success. She dislodged enough obstruction in her throat to make an audible sound.
“Help.”
Buoyed by her triumph, she tried again and joyously detected another voice. It was male and weak but she could make out his words. “Help, is someone there?”
Thank God. She wasn’t alone. “Yes, I’m here, not too far from you as well as I can tell.”
The voice grew louder. “Good, good. Let’s yell for help. Maybe someone will hear our two voices. I know they can’t see me because I can’t see a thing.”
“I can see out. It’s a terrible sight but I like your idea. They’ll be more likely to hear two voices.”
Anna and this Godsend yelled and yelled and finally Anna heard a rescuer. “I hear voices but can’t see you. Keep yelling and we’ll find you.”
Anna continued to call, fighting the pain that threatened to overcome her. She longed to rub her sore eyes but the only body part she could easily move was her head.
The rescuers continued to collect the dead bodies. It reminded Anna of sweeping the house clean. She shivered although she felt satanically hot.
With relief, she discerned a savior’s voice. “Finally, I see you. We’ll get you out as soon as we can. We just have to wait for more equipment. Can you hold on?”
Anna could just make out the rescuer, covered in dirt with a tattered plaid shirt and overalls, more apparition than man.
“Yes.” She had no choice. At least it wouldn’t be dark for hours. She strained her voice, “There’s a man trapped nearby.”
“Don’t worry. We can’t see him but we can hear him. We’ll get him out. Keep talking to each other. It will pass the time.”
Anna bit her lip hard enough to draw blood when the emergency workers moved away.
* * *
The evening dragged on and Anna’s terror reduced the pain to a dull presence. She continued to converse with the trapped man. She learned his name was Daniel. He had the pleasant accent of one of the brave and perennially polite Canadians.
“Even if I’d had time to put my gas mask on, it wouldn’t have helped with all this soot and dust. I feel like I’m going to suffocate. At least we’re not covered in glass. It can do terrible damage.”
Anna cried out. “A shard just missed my left arm, which hurts like crazy. It’s probably broken.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. With me, it’s my shoulder. It’s filled with shrapnel but that happened before…on D-Day. I’m ‘getting a Blighty one.’”
Anna knew the term. While Daniel may not have life-threatening injuries, he had been hurt badly enough not to be sent back to the front line. “War is hell. Do you think poorly of me?”
She’d heard similar words from Charles. Men all wanted to be considered brave, but fear was a human condition.
“Of course not, you’re just being honest. I’d feel the same. Anna started to cough and found she couldn’t stop.
When her coughing finally subsided, Daniel continued as if there’d been no interruption. “Now I’m damned miserable and craving a cigarette so bad I fear I might die.”
His voice sounded raspy, the result of either cigarettes or the rubble? She suspected it was a combination of both.
“And I’d like a cup of tea. Thank God that’s one pleasure Hitler hasn’t been able to take away from us. We would lose the war for sure without tea.”
Daniel’s voice revealed he was only a foot or two away and she found this proximity made for a special intimacy. “Tell me about yourself, Anna.”
She excluded little. She talked of her love of art, her work at the factory, and her family. In spite of the conditions Anna found she enjoyed talking to the man. He seemed to be genuinely interested in what she had to say.
Daniel reciprocated by describing his life in Canada. He lived in a vast country on a vast piece of property. If she escaped this rubble she vowed to find a book about Canada.
He rambled on about army life. “I hate all the rules. Yet, somehow we need them. I commanded a tank and have the rank to go with it.”
Did she detect pride in his voice? No, she didn’t think so. Instead she sensed the heavy mantle of responsibility.
Daniel groaned. “I can’t wait to get back to the farm. It’s my life. Funny, I don’t share my private thoughts with most people. You’re a special lady, Miss Anna.”
Anna’s eyes watered. She didn’t know if it was from the debris or because no man had ever felt worthy of her confidences before.
Daniel’s voice grew faint. Anna strained to catch the words. She silently prayed, Dear God, don’t let him die. Not like this.
Fortunately, his next words were stronger. “My parents are extremely religious and established a church. It’s almost cult-like. Mom and Dad are pacifists. Yet, despite the hell I’ve gone through, I think I did right by enlisting. Hitler is probably the most evil man ever born and there have been some bad ones.”
“I agree. For one thing he’s attempting to annihilate the entire Jewish nation.” Anna moaned at the sight of three very small bodies pulled from the rubble. The war they’d just agreed needed to be fought was more terrible than words could convey.
Daniel began to cough violently.
Anna held her breath, waiting for the fit to subside. He couldn’t die. He just couldn’t.
As if reading her thoughts, he continued, “I survived D-Day in a destroyed tank and now I’m trapped in rubble. I lost all my company. Why can’t I die?”
“Daniel, you said I’m special. You’re the special one. I can tell you’re a kind man.”
* * *
Their rescue worker from earlier finally returned. Anna recognized his torn red shirt. The news wasn’t good. It would be at least another thirty minutes before they could free Anna and Daniel.
Anna was comforted by Daniel’s voice. “You sound young and pretty. What do you look like? You English girls all have such beautiful skin.”
Anna softly sighed. Everyone wanted a pretty girl. “I’m not pretty. My nose is too long and my face is too thin. Actually, I’m too thin everywhere. My sister got the looks. I’m an old maid but a fussy old maid.” Anna explained about Charles, his lack of love, his selfishness. Trauma must begat honesty, she decided.
Daniel’s situation was similar. His parents wanted him to marry Nancy, a woman devoted to religion. “I don’t love her. I don’t even like her. She’s a hypocrite. She’s constantly spouting love and compassion, but I saw her kick a cat for no reason. Besides that, she’s plain as mud. Who wants a woman who is neither pretty nor kind?”
Anna gasped as more dead bodies were pulled from the rubble. She’d never before been so close to death. Perhaps she and Daniel were speaking too intimately. Who might be listening? She pushed the thought away; she had to keep speaking with him. It was the only thing keeping her from hysterics.
Daniel’s desire to continue their conversation appeared equally strong. “I don’t believe in my parents’ fire and brimstone religion but I do like the idea of purity. You, Anna, are pure, and I don’t just mean because you’ve told me you’re a virgin. You have a purity of spirit, so different from me because I have seen such atrocities of war.”
Anna struggled to smile. Could she be falling in love? With a voice, was it possible?
* * *
Just before dark, the necessary equipment arrived and worked its magic. Anna and Daniel were released from the rubble.
They freed Anna first. She held her left arm steady while they helped her climb out of the rubble. Free at last, she took a deep breath and found the untainted, crisp air the sweetest thing in the world. Her stiff limbs moved slowly and awkwardly at first, then they gained strength and she could move freely. Thank God. I made it. I’m alive.
She was just telling the rescuers about a trapped Canadian soldier when a man who must be Daniel appeared from the debris. He clutched his shoulder. She knew he was a young man, yet at the moment he looked at least eighty. Ash covered him and his eyes were red orbs.
She caught glimpses of a tall, strong, athletic body through the ripped and torn uniform. Somehow, even in that condition Anna found him attractive.
Daniel walked stiff-legged to where Anna stood and grinned.
“We’re to go to the hospital with the other wounded.”
She followed the direction of Daniel’s gaze and looked down. Her jumper and trousers were torn and gaping open. She clutched the jumper closed and Daniel averted his gaze. She found it had been easier responding to a disembodied voice.
Daniel did not seem to suffer from the same condition. He gathered Anna close with his good arm, careful of her injury. She leaned into him, he felt wonderful, all strength and muscle.
“We made it! I know this isn’t exactly the right time or place but will you see me again? I’d like to take you dancing.”