ALEC COULD SEE THAT DOCKING THE BRITANNIA WAS going to take some time. Other little ships had come in before them, and the pier was crowded with people waiting to help the soldiers. Some men came off carrying nothing, while others clung to their rifles. "Keep back!" one soldier shouted when someone tried to take his gun. "My lieutenant said to stay close to my weapon. I'm to give it to no one." But after some coaxing from an officer nearby, he relented and handed the weapon to the ship's captain. "Only until I have use for it again," the soldier said.
It was chaos at the landing. Families were hanging around, hoping for a glimpse of a loved one. Women from local churches held out sandwiches and mugs of tea. The soldiers grabbed greedily at anything offered, some not having eaten for days.
Everyone wanted to know what had happened. Questions flew over Alec's head as he finally drew close enough to lash the Britannia to its stakes. Almost before he had tied up, people from the town were climbing aboard, helping the wounded from the ship. The women wrapped blankets around the soldiers, gently leading them toward waiting ambulances and autos.
Alec was tired. He had spent the past two days scrambling from ship to dock to ship again, and though he was happy to be back, he didn't want to talk. But then he remembered Thomas.
"Aunt Lucy and Uncle Jack," Alec called to Thomas. "They'll be looking for you. They haven't heard anything in weeks. Come on, let me help you get up."
But Thomas wasn't listening to Alec. His eyes looked past his cousin to something on the docks. Alec turned to see Aunt Lucy gazing at the Britannia and her son standing on its deck.
Uncle Jack was fighting his way through the crowd. People swarmed around each ship, looking among the soldiers for a son or father as the injured were being helped off. Finally, Uncle Jack was able to climb onboard and hug his son. Then, noticing the sling, he stepped back and mumbled, "Oh, Thomas ... I'm sorry, son. I didn't see ... I didn't know you'd been hurt."
"I'm okay, Dad. Just glad to be home. To be back with you and Mum. We thought we wouldn't see England again."
Aunt Lucy watched as the men stepped off the ship and came toward her. Then the three of them stood there, encircled in each other's arms, as Alec had seen them do the day Thomas had shipped out.
He should have felt happy. Standing there, watching this family come together. He should have been relieved to be home. But something was missing. He turned back toward the ship just as Aunt Lucy spoke his name. She was standing next to him.
"Thank you, Alec," she said. "Thank you for finding Thomas. I know you shouldn't have gone. And I would have stopped you myself if I'd known your plan. But thank you for bringing our son to us." She smiled and hurried away, joining her men once more.
It's over, Alec thought. I found Thomas and Will. I didn't foul things up. So why don't I feel better? He realized that the little ships had made a difference for Aunt Lucy and Uncle Jack. And the trip had proved that he could tend a ship and follow a plan. But inside, that dark feeling crept in again. He knew what was wrong.
"I wish I'd done more to make it easier at home," Will had said. Alec knew that he himself could have said the same. He had heard the words in his head all the way home. He had tried to ignore them—and that nagging, but it was there again. Something was still pushing him to act.
Ever since Georgie's death, Alec had struggled to find his way. Now he realized that the captain had told him what he needed to do. So had Eva. And Will had really meant the same thing: Value what you have now. There will be time later to make your choices. But for now, look around at what you have and do what you can to keep it going.
It was family that mattered, Alec realized. Eva had lost hers. And Will—Will's family had lost him. But Alec had time yet. Time to grow up with his family. He wouldn't be so foolish as to throw that away.
He finished winding up the rope and checked the knots on the moorings to be sure they were secure. Captain Cairns, his pipe in his hand, was busy talking with one of the officers, filling him in on what they'd seen at Dunkirk. As Alec passed them, he heard the captain remark, "And the weather—why, it just turned, mate. In a matter of hours, we had cloud cover and smoke so thick a seagull couldn't see to fly. Gave us the break we needed from those Jerries, it did."
Alec smiled. "Aye, Captain," he said. "There's your second miracle. Not too many lucky enough to have seen that."
"Aye, you're right, sonny," the captain said. "You keep that for yourself as well. Miracles are few," he said, tipping his hat.
"I won't be joining you on the next trip across the Channel," Alec said.
"Aye," the captain said. "I'm not surprised, lad. You've got business here. It'll be tough, but I'll manage with a new crew until you're ready to join me again."
Alec nodded and moved on down the dock. A familiar voice was barking out orders, just as Alec had heard it do a hundred times. He'd know that voice even among the milling crowd that now surrounded him. It was his father's.
Alec wasn't ready for his father, and he searched for a spot to hide until he could think what to do next. Crouching behind a tall stack of blankets and water jugs waiting to be carried on the next ship across the Channel, he drew his collar up around his face. He couldn't be found out—not yet. He was hopeful his father had not seen him.
He watched as soldiers were gathered up and driven to hospitals or lodging. Some, like Thomas, had minor wounds that would keep them in Dover only a few days before they could catch the train back to London. Others couldn't move without help. Alec thought about his visit to the castle and wondered if the more seriously injured might end up in the tunnel infirmary. It was the night he'd entered that tunnel that had pushed him to Dunkirk, and to the dock where he now stood.
"We've got beds enough for six at the inn," Alec's father called to the women handing out food. "So if any of these lads need a room, ring us up and we'll be down to get them. They'll get a good meal and a warm place to sleep. We'll make sure of that."
Something in the voice made Alec look again in his father's direction. What had happened? His father was different. Then Alec, too curious to hide any longer, stepped silently past the crowd and edged down the pier toward a lorry waiting at the end.
Slamming the door and waving the lorry on, his father turned and faced him. Neither said anything at first. Then Alec spoke. "Dad, I heard your voice.... I'm sorry I left—"
"Don't, Alec," his father snapped, stepping toward him. "Don't apologize to me," he said, nearly whispering now, "not before I have a chance to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you so hard, lad, so hard that you could do nothing except push back. I have wronged you, son. It's me who needs to be asking for forgiveness," he said as he wrapped his arms around Alec and held him tight.
"No need to talk now, lad," Alec's father continued. "We'll have plenty of time at the inn. You've had some hard days—most of them before you crossed the Channel. We'll talk soon. For now, it's enough to see you're safe. Your mum has been lost since you left."
"Lost?" his mother shouted, grabbing Alec's jacket and spinning him around. "Lost is not the word, love. Weeping day and night. That's what I've been doing. And praying God would bring you to me. And He has. Thank God, He has!"
Alec wilted in her embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. He wanted to tell her he'd changed. He wanted to confess he'd been wrong about a lot of things.
For a few minutes, they all stood there—Alec, his dad, his mum. Then his dad nodded toward the lorry. Alec saw Eva huddled there, looking as lost as when he'd first seen her. She didn't move.
"Eva," Alec called.
She walked slowly toward the family, not wanting to intrude. But Alec reached out and caught her by the arm, giving her a quick hug. His parents watched quietly.
"Well," his father said, breaking the silence. "The lorry's full. I guess we've got no choice but to walk. Okay with you, Gwen? Eva?"
"Aye," Alec's mother said. "We've not walked from the shore together in a long time. I think the walk is just what we need."
"But we best be quick. We can't be too far behind that lorry or Aga will start emptying the larder, fussing that she has nothing to feed those lads."
They all laughed at the thought of Aga opening the door to six soldiers covered in oil and dirt, and her muttering, "Not a soul around to give me a bit of help!"
Still holding him by the arm, Alec's mum let their pace slow, allowing his father and Eva to get several feet in front of them. "Your father's changed, Alec. I hope you can see that."
"Aye, Mum. When I heard him at the docks—and then when I saw him with the soldiers—I wondered what had come about."
His mother smiled. "Believe it or not, Alec, it was Mr. Churchill and your journal that made the difference. When I found your bed empty two nights ago, I searched for a note, anything that you might have left. Then I found your journal. It was too late to stop you—the ships had long sailed. So I read about you and Georgie and your dreams of being a seaman. And then I read the part about Eva. I wished you could have told us about her."
"We'd only just met. And you know what Dad said about the German orphans. He wouldn't have liked it."
"I know, Alec.... Then yesterday, the prime minister and archbishop called all of England together for a day of prayer. Your father wouldn't go, so I went to Eva's home and asked her to join me at St. Mary's.
"But Dad?" Alec asked.
"At first he wanted to hear nothing about Eva, but then, at church, I turned to see him standing near the back. When I motioned him over, he sat down in the pew until we were finished. On our way to the inn from Eva's, Mrs. Tanner told us that soldiers were on their way home." She paused. "Your father couldn't get to the docks early enough this morning."
"Aye. I can see the change. And I've changed, too. I saw Will, Mum, before he died. He told me to come home."
They continued for a several steps and soon found themselves opposite Mrs. Tanner's Fifty Shilling Tailor Shop—just as she emerged, broom in hand. Alec stopped, then went right up to her.
"My cousin Thomas, Mrs. Tanner. He's home and safe. Will you tell whomever you see, Mrs. Tanner? He's safe."
Mrs. Tanner stared at Alec, her mouth open, as she watched the family go on their way home.
Stopping at the front steps, Alec looked up at the inn. It'll have to he painted once this war's over, he thought. He took the front steps two at a time and held the door for the others. Plenty of work and plenty of time, he said to himself. For now, he had a table to set, with an extra plate for Eva.
The next two days kept them all busy as they shuffled soldiers in and out of the inn. Alec's dad had promised hearty meals and warm lodging, so Aga spent her hours in the kitchen, while Alec kept the fireplaces clean of ashes and filled with cozy embers. The damp weather continued into June as soldiers spilled onto the Dover docks for several days before the evacuation was over.
"I wouldn't have believed that Churchill could do what he's done at Dunkirk," Alec's father said one night at supper. "This time—this time he did what was right. Brought those boys home. Saved England, that's for sure."
"Aye, 'e did," one of the soldiers answered, "'e's a tough old bird, 'e is. We'd be sittin' there still, methinks, if Churchill 'ad been as weak as 'itler 'ad thought 'im to be. Thank God, 'itler was wrong. Aye. Thank God."
"But France," another joined in, "France.... She's not so lucky. Those lads that got left at Dunkirk, they're probably in the Jerries' hands right now."
Alec listened quietly. The war talk no longer set his heart racing. Rather, he felt more like Aga. The war he'd seen, the queues of men, the shrieking Stukas, the thundering guns—he wanted to leave all of it and its darkness back at Dunkirk. For the first few days, he even avoided the drawing room and the nightly BBC reports. "I've lived it," he said to Aga. "I don't want to hear about it ever again."
But one night he sat down by his mother to hear the prime minister's special broadcast. Alec found himself holding his breath as Churchill's words rang from the radio and filled the room: "We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds ... and in the streets ... we shall never surrender!"
The next morning, Alec helped Aga with breakfast before going off to the market with Eva. Using their ration cards, they picked up some bread and beans. Alec's dad had also given him a few shillings to buy three red roses. After dropping their packages at the inn, Eva and Alec walked up the hill to the cemetery near the church and placed a flower on Margaret's and Georgie's stones. Then they headed to the docks.
"Never surrender," Alec said to Eva as they walked along the Channel to where the Britannia was moored. "We shall never surrender. That's what Churchill promised. It was Dunkirk, you know—that made the difference. We will not give up!"
"Ja—yes, yes. I heard you, Alec; you've said it over and over now. Herr Churchill; he saved England. He saved us."
"Aye, he did. And I can't explain it, Eva. I can't tell you why I'm sure. But one day we'll fish the Channel, you and I. On a clear day, when we can see France, and the fish are hungry. It will happen, Eva. It will. And we'll talk—about your family and mine and about Georgie and Will."
He stepped onto the deck of the Britannia and helped Eva onboard. Then the two of them walked to the bow, and Eva watched as Alec leaned far over the gunwale and flung the final rose into the Channel. "That's for Douglas," Alec announced. "We'll be talking about him for some time. Aye, I'll never forget my mates."