Inch by inch, Hannah wriggled closer to the edge of the hole, her right arm wrapped around the leg of the bed. Now her left foot dangled over the void. She wore pyjamas made from brushed cotton with a pattern of seashells. Hannah was growing out of them – the legs only reached to mid-calf and rode up to Hannah’s knees as she wormed her way over the edge. Her bare feet were smeared with grey dust and streaks of blood from several scratches. Funny how you noticed little things like that.
Hannah’s sobs turned to a keening wail as her left foot flailed in the air.
‘That’s it, Hannah. Nearly there. You’re doing so well.’ Jess strove to keep the panic from her voice, tried to ignore the growing heat on the side of her face that told her the fire blazed only yards away.
Milan, stretching to his full height managed to grasp both Hannah’s legs below the knee. ‘There you go. I have got you. Let go of the bed now. I will not let you fall.’
The last words had hardly left his mouth when the upper floor gave a lurch. Hannah squealed and gripped the bed even harder. Roof tiles fell from above, through the bedroom to smash with a clatter on the ground. Even when one struck Milan’s elbow, he didn’t release his grip from Hannah’s legs. Some fell outside. Jess heard the brittle slates shatter upon the paving slabs. She thrust her head through the window to avoid getting hit.
Jess’s throat closed in terror. She tried to call out to Hannah, to reassure her. No words would come. All she could do was grip the window sill, feeling cold brick scrape beneath her fingernails, as she watched the two most precious people in her life face peril.
Then Milan spoke. His voice was so calm, Jess felt her heart rate ease. ‘I am still here, Hannah. Take your time.’
It was probably a good thing Jess couldn’t get any words out, for she knew she wouldn’t be able to utter anything so calming. She would probably have screamed something that would have thrown Hannah into an even greater panic. Milan, on the other hand, continued to speak words of encouragement as though he were doing nothing more risky than soothing a frightened animal. Finally, Hannah drew a shuddering breath and released her hold on the bed. She slid through the hole to be caught securely in Milan’s arms. An instant later, he handed her through the window, and Jess hugged her daughter close, tears dripping into Hannah’s matted hair.
Milan’s voice broke through her sobs. ‘Take her to the first aiders on the street. I will get your aunt.’
By the time Jess had managed to prise Hannah out of her arms so the first aiders could take a look at her, she was torn. Half of her couldn’t bear to leave Hannah for a moment, wanted to cling to her, reassure herself she was safe. Then one of the firefighters clutched her arm. ‘Did you say there was still someone in the house?’
She nodded. ‘My aunt. My friend is looking for her.’
‘Get them out now. We can’t hold the fire back much longer.’
After giving Hannah one last hug and seeing her safely reunited with Uncle Jack, she rushed back to the yard. ‘Milan,’ she shouted the moment she was through the gate. ‘Where are you?’
She reached the window just as a rumble and a crash sounded within. ‘Milan!’ She peered inside, shining her torch through the window but could see nothing through a billowing cloud of dust. It caught at her throat, making her choke, and stung her eyes. The fire scorched the side of her face but a gnawing chill froze her insides. What if Milan and Vera were trapped within, listening to the house fall around them and the fire approaching but unable to move? ‘Milan!’ She tried to shout his name. It came out as a croak.
Then came the rending sound of shifting wood. An odd, hunched figure emerged through the dust. Jess blinked, trying to force the image into focus through a mist of shimmering tears. Then the sight resolved itself into Milan, supporting Vera, shuffling towards the window. Sobbing, she reached forward to help Vera. She hardly knew how they managed to drag her through. Then she was hugging her aunt hard.
‘Thank God,’ she gasped. ‘Are you hurt?’
She would have checked Vera over, but Milan tugged her arm. ‘We must get away before the fire reaches us.’
Jess nodded and put her arm around Vera to help her through to the street.
‘Thank you. For everything.’ Jess, feeling limp from delayed reaction, clung to Milan’s arm as they walked back to the car. ‘If it weren’t for you…’ she shuddered and pressed closer to Milan’s side.
It was several hours later, Jess not wanting to leave her family until she was sure they were well and had shelter. Vera, while being bruised and dazed, had miraculously escaped serious injury. Mrs Prosser had kindly allowed Vera, Jack and Hannah to use her spare room for as long as they needed. Once Jess had bathed the dust from Hannah and treated her numerous scratches, she had put her to bed, dressed in a borrowed nightie. The little girl had clung to her, crying, and it had taken over an hour for her to calm down enough to sleep, clutching a toy rabbit another of their neighbours had given her. Before leaving, she had also given Vera and Jack all the money she had in her possession, little though it was. She had been moved but not surprised by how the whole street had come out in support, rallying round with clothes, food and shelter for those who had lost their homes.
‘You do not have to thank me. I would never have let you face that alone,’ Milan replied.
Jess gazed into Milan’s face. ‘I know. And it means so much to me.’
She had first been drawn to Milan because of his good looks and the glamour that clung to him as a pilot. As their friendship progressed, she couldn’t understand what it was about him that made it so difficult to stick to her intention of having fun but not getting too close. Now it hit her that the strength of his affection had made it impossible for her to forget him. Not his feelings but the way he made it clear he would always be there for her if she needed him. While she had flirted with other men, her relationship with Milan had never felt like simple flirtation, no matter how many times she had denied any deeper feelings.
‘Why did you wait so long for me?’ she asked.
He frowned. ‘I couldn’t leave you. The underground will have stopped running by now.’
She bit back a laugh. ‘Not tonight. I mean, after I left Amberton.’
His face cleared. ‘Oh. That is easy. No other woman has the combination of fire and compassion and fun. You are the only one for me. I have always known that.’
Another time she could have resisted the surge of feeling for him. There was something so poignant about his simple declaration, said in such a matter-of-fact tone, said, she was sure, with no expectation of return. Combined with her relief and gratitude, there was no resisting the impulse. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Standing on tiptoe, she leant forward and pulled the peaked cap from his head. Then, bracing her hands on his arms, she pressed her lips to his.
For a moment, Milan stood motionless. That awful split-second when she thought he would reject her advance told Jess all she needed to know about her feelings for him. Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, deepening the kiss. It was a good thing he held her so tight, or she was sure her legs wouldn’t support her. She pressed so close she could feel the hammering of his heart. Or was it hers? She was no longer sure. She slid her hands up his arms then wound her arms around his neck. After holding back for so long, now she never wanted to let him go. All she was aware of was the feel of his lips upon hers, the warmth of his body in contrast to the chill night air and the roar of blood in her ears.
‘Steady on, you two. Ain’t you got somewhere else to go?’
Jess stepped back in time to see the dark shape of an ARP Warden walk past. For once she was grateful for the blackout, as it hid her face which burned red hot.
Milan took her arm. ‘Come. Let us find the car.’
They walked a few steps towards the road where they had parked. Then Milan said, ‘Just to be clear, I kissed you back because I want us to be together. If you do not feel the same, I trust you to say so.’
‘I—’ several conflicting thoughts came to mind, tying her tongue. She knew beyond any doubt that she wanted to be with him, but she also knew she wasn’t good enough for him. Well, wasn’t it time he knew that? She couldn’t break with him, not again. However, if he knew the truth, he would do it for her.
She gulped. ‘I do feel the same but there’s something you need to know.’
‘Jess, if it’s about the other men you saw after leaving Amberton, I do not mind.’
‘No. It’s something else. It’s important.’
Milan stopped, pulling them into a shop doorway so they couldn’t be overheard by any passers-by. ‘Then tell me.’
Jess drew a deep breath. It was all very well deciding to tell him the truth, but this was something she had hidden for years. Not even Evie and May knew. ‘It’s hard for me to say. I don’t know how to begin.’
‘Begin at the beginning. That is what my babi – my grandmother – used to say.’
Jess nodded. She found she was shaking, her stomach churning. Why was she doing this? If she kept quiet, Milan need never know. Never know the worst of her. Although telling him was the best way to put him at a distance, she dreaded seeing the change in the way he looked at her. The sudden coldness in his expression. How long before he would suddenly come up with an excuse to explain why he couldn’t see her any more?
She removed her hand from his arm, not wanting to experience the rejection of him throwing off her hold. Balling her fists at her sides to conceal the trembling in her hands, she began. But where was the beginning of this particular sorry tale?
‘You know I was an actress before the war,’ she said finally. When Milan nodded, she went on, ‘It was a tough profession to get into. Maybe I had my head turned by doing well in local plays when I was still at school, but I soon learned my mistake. I’d go for endless auditions, and the waiting room would be full of other girls, all better looking and more talented.’
‘I cannot believe that.’
Despite the cold nausea gnawing at her stomach, Jess managed to flash Milan a grateful smile. ‘Flatterer,’ she said. ‘But believe it. London was teeming with girls all wanting to make it big on stage or screen. There wasn’t much hope for a working-class girl like me with no connections.’
‘You did get work, though.’
Jess nodded, swallowing. Now she was getting to the point of her story and she was finding it harder to force out the words. ‘I got lucky.’ She gave a harsh laugh. ‘Or I thought I was lucky.’ The eventual consequences had been far from lucky. ‘My favourite teacher, Miss Barrows, married a playwright.’ Jess remembered Miss Barrows with affection. Miss Barrows had always encouraged her, telling Jess she had talent, feeding her dreams. ‘When he got one of his plays into a small theatre off the West End, she put in a good word for me. He got me a small speaking part. Once I got my foot in the door, I managed to get other roles. All small parts, but they gave me hope I’d get my big break.’ It was funny, she reflected, how she had never been satisfied. When she’d started out, she’d looked in awe at the young women who had managed to get small speaking parts, thinking she’d be happy if only she could do the same. Then, when she’d got her first role, she’d been envious of the actresses regularly getting major roles. She supposed that if she’d ever achieved top billing in a play, she’d have been envious of Hollywood actresses. She never felt that way in the WAAF, even though there was a rigid hierarchy. Maybe it was because everyone worked as a team, supporting each other, knowing how vital it was for each person to succeed.
‘Did you get your big break?’
‘Nearly.’ Her voice caught. ‘That’s when I met Leo – Leonard Steele. I’d got a part as a chambermaid in a murder mystery play, and he was playing the lead – the detective.’
The sky was turning a pale grey, heralding sunrise. Looking over Milan’s shoulder, she could see shopkeepers unlocking doors and opening awnings. A newspaper boy was setting up on a street corner. Jess hugged her arms to her chest, shivering in the cold air. A new day was dawning, and she should return to Bentley Manor to snatch some sleep before going on duty later that afternoon. Now she had started, though, she wanted – needed – to finish.
‘Leo took an interest in me. Said I had talent. Said he could help me make it big if… if…’
She saw from the sudden widening of Milan’s eyes the moment when comprehension dawned. She hastily looked away, not wanting to see his expression harden. The disgust.
She rushed on. ‘I really thought I loved ’im. Leo was so charming, flattering me, telling me I was the only girl for ’im.’ She swallowed. ‘If I didn’t love ’im, I’d ’ave never…’ She wasn’t usually stuck for words, but she couldn’t bring herself to say what had happened next.
‘He made you promises. Said you were the only girl for him.’
Jess looked at Milan in surprise. While his expression was grim, there didn’t seem to be any disgust aimed at her. ‘Yes.’
‘And you thought you were the only one he spoke to like that.’
‘Yes,’ she said again. It was the only word she could manage. Any minute now he would turn his back, walk away. No, she corrected herself, he wouldn’t leave her here alone. He would see her safely back to Stanmore before coming up with a sudden reason why he wouldn’t be able to see her again.
Milan raked his fingers through his hair, leaving a fresh smear of grime across his forehead. ‘You are not the first girl to fall for a man’s lies.’
Lies? Suddenly she was looking at her early relationship with Leo through the eyes of experience rather than remembering it as it had happened when she had been so young and naive. ‘I… why didn’t I see it before? I was young. Only seventeen. He seduced me.’
Milan’s expression was grim. Any minute now he would make an excuse why he couldn’t see her any more. Oh, he’d be kind; he wouldn’t say it was because he couldn’t bear to be with another man’s leavings, but she would know.
Suddenly she was gabbling, almost pleading. ‘I ’ad no idea. I mean, my auntie ’ad warned me not to let my ’ead get turned, but I ’adn’t really understood…’ If someone had asked why she was trying to justify her mistakes when she had started her confession with the intention of driving him away, she couldn’t have said.
‘Jess.’ Milan’s voice was gentle. She dared to meet his gaze and found no condemnation. Nothing but sympathy. ‘You do not need to explain yourself to me.’
She shook her head as though it would help her make sense of her confusion. ‘I don’t understand.’ Where was the disgust, the angry declaration that he could have nothing to do with a girl like her?
‘You made a mistake in believing the lies of a vůl like Leonard Steele. I do not believe that means you should suffer for that mistake for the rest of your life. In my eyes, Leonard Steele was far more in the wrong than you. Do you see him suffer for it, or being eaten up by guilt?’
‘He wouldn’t, would ’e? He’s a man. Men can get away with murder, whereas women just have to wear their hemlines a fraction too high or their neckline a tad too low, and they’re labelled hussies to the end of their days. That’s the way the world has always been.’
‘That does not make it right.’
Jess searched Milan’s face, looking for any sign of revulsion. She found nothing but compassion.
The newspaper boy shouted out the daily headlines, making her jump, and there was a rattle as a greengrocer opened up the shutters of her shop. Milan made a move as though to turn away and resume their walk.
‘Wait.’ Jess grabbed his arm. She couldn’t let him leave without knowing the worst. She closed her fingers upon his sleeve, bunching the cloth and twisting it in her fist. ‘Hannah ain’t my cousin,’ she said in a rush. ‘She’s my daughter.’