Peter sat at his desk, reviewing the plans. Arrangements had been made for the removal of Ann’s possessions, and she would be spirited away at night for the journey to the ocean liner. He felt guilty knowing he could make the trip in the safety of daylight while Ann would be at risk from night raids and vehicles with covered headlights.
He ran his hand over his forehead and walked to the window. In the far distance lay areas of the city that had been bombed, and he remembered the day he had walked through the streets to view the damage. Walls jutted into the sky, and the ruins resembled archaeological sites with remnants left here and there. Smoke rose from smoldering fires. People picked through the rubble for any belongings that survived, and some were staying in the remains of their houses without windows or walls.
“Hitler’s wrong if he thinks he can crush the English spirit,” he said aloud. “He’ll only make them fight harder. They’re carrying on with remarkable courage.” He turned to finish packing before he made one last trip to the bookshop to say good-bye to Nigel and review the plans.
When he entered the store, Ann looked up quickly, a big smile spreading over her face. “Peter! It’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” She hurried over to greet him. “Grandpa, Peter’s here!”
“I’ll stay away more often if this is the welcome I get!” He smiled at her and took her hand. She looked so trusting and happy to see him, he hated to think what lay ahead.
Nigel hurried into the shop. “Peter, my friend, come, see what I’ve found for you.” Peter smiled at her and followed him into the workroom, where Nigel handed him some papers. They reviewed the plans, prayed together, and said their good-byes.
As they returned to the shop, Peter turned to Nigel. “Now, may I borrow your granddaughter?”
He nodded. “Keep her safe.”
“We can go to our special spot for a bit of peace and quiet.” Peter paused with his hand on the doorknob.
Ann gave him a shaky smile. “I’d like that.”
They were quiet as they walked to the park. Ann’s heart ached, knowing she might never see Peter again. They entered their secluded spot and sat on the bench. The place that had been such a solace now seemed strange and different, she thought as she stared at the late-summer flowers, not trusting herself to speak. The wind rustled the leaves above them and moved through the trees with a mournful sigh. To Ann, it was the sound of her heart being broadcast for all to hear.
Peter picked up a wilted daisy and straightened the petals. “I’ll be praying for you, Ann. Your grandfather told me about your plans to go home.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I wish….” He paused and looked up at the trees and sky. “Maybe when this is over, we’ll be back here someday.”
Ann couldn’t hold back the tears. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and mopped at her eyes. “It will be so hard to leave. I’ll worry about you and Grandpa and the city, but this is something I have to do. Others have sacrificed things they cared about. Now it’s my turn, and I have to give up all this for something I believe is right. I just didn’t expect it to be so hard.” She wiped her eyes again.
Peter reached over and took her hand. “Courage is doing the right thing even when it breaks your heart. Think how sad it would be if you could leave everything without caring.” He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair gently. His chin rested on her head, and her tears made wet splotches on his shirt.
Ann sat up and wiped her nose. “Please take care of Grandpa for me, Peter. I know Mrs. Wilson will see that he has food. They care about each other so he’ll have someone after I’m gone, but promise me you’ll come by often and see that he’s safe. You’ve been a dear friend to him; I’ll never forget that.”
Peter stared at her, then looked down. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get there as often … as I can. I’m sure Mrs. Wilson will do a better job than I could, though.” He stood quickly and pulled her to her feet. “Now, you need to stop worrying and enjoy the rest of your time here. I miss that smile of yours.” He lifted her chin. “We’ll see each other again, I promise. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Ann couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down her face. Peter took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Okay, kiddo, time to get you back to the shop before we have a flood here. I didn’t bring a boat!” He grinned at her, and she managed a wet smile. He bent to give her a tender kiss, then took her arm and walked her home.
When Peter left her at the shop, Ann went to the window to watch him walk away. Instead he approached a tall man she’d seen out there before. Why would Peter be talking to him? By the time Peter had finished the conversation, curiosity had replaced her tears.
The following days passed quickly, and most of Ann’s possessions had been sent ahead. As she made a last tour of the neighborhood and talked to people she had grown fond of, she chuckled to herself. Mrs. Chumley felt something was up and decided Ann was eloping with Peter. “You can’t fool me,” she insisted. “I know romance when I see it!” She thrust an object at Ann. “From Albert and me.” Ann stared at the framed picture of King George VI. “Deserves a place of honor in every proper home,” her neighbor declared proudly.
Ann took a deep breath. “I can’t take it now. Please keep it for me.” She tried to make her smile sincere.
“Sure thing, dearie.” Mrs. Chumley gave a wink. “A person don’t need much on a trip like that. It’ll be here when you get back.”
Bombing raids had continued every night starting at dusk, so Ann was thankful their area of town remained unscathed. She glanced at the clock—one hour left. Now she had to face the good-bye she dreaded, and she hurried into the workroom, where her grandfather was repairing a book. Keeping busy was his way of handling the pain of her leaving, she realized.
“Grandpa, please stay safe and let Mrs. Wilson see that you’re properly fed. She cares for you very much, and I have a feeling it’s mutual. You have my blessing.” They spent the hour reminiscing, and her grandfather reviewed important points for the safety of both her and the Bible.
Ann clasped and unclasped her hands. “I thought Peter would come by one last time. Tell him—” Suddenly, there was a soft tap on the back door, and she jumped.
Her grandfather stood. “Ann, your ride is here.” He put his arms around her, and she hugged his neck, fighting back tears. “Grandpa, I can’t leave you here. Come with me. Please.”
He patted her hair gently. “God will watch over me—and I’m sure Mrs. Wilson will, too. I’ll be praying for your safety, as you will mine. God will keep us safe.” He reached out to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Now you must go. And do what these people tell you; I’m trusting them completely with my two greatest treasures.”
Her grandfather turned and opened the door to admit a man who reached for Ann’s suitcases. “We need to leave right away, miss.” Ann nodded and hugged her grandfather one last time before following the man out the door and into the night, carrying the knitting bag into which was tucked a well-worn copy of Shakespeare.