17

Rose made her way as quickly as she could back to the apartment, hardly speaking to the doorman as he tapped the brim of his hat in recognition. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with her key, and once inside the apartment she threw her coat down and hurried to the telephone. She knew Sea View’s number off by heart, but even so, she had to try three times as her fingers kept slipping into the wrong holes of the dial, such was her agitation.

At last she heard ringing on the other end of the line. She sat down on the side of a nearby armchair, breathing deeply to calm herself.

‘Hello, Mum?’ she asked when someone answered.

‘No, this is Miss Tibbs – who may I say is calling?’

‘Miss Tibbs, this is Rose. Please can you fetch Mum for me?’ She prayed Miss Tibbs wouldn’t want to chat, as she often did when Rose rang from the teashop.

‘She’s indisposed,’ Miss Tibbs said importantly. ‘Can you telephone later? She asked me to write down any messages.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t; this is very important.’ Rose took a deep breath; it would take something major for Miss Tibbs to get Flora to the telephone once she had told her she didn’t wish to be disturbed. ‘Someone has disappeared and I need Mum’s advice,’ she said clearly so that the old woman would understand. She didn’t name Anya, as Miss Tibbs was prone to gossiping, which wouldn’t do at all.

‘We know, dear, that is why Flora is resting. It has been rather a shock to us all. The policeman has only just left. Joyce and Lily have organized a search party.’

Rose didn’t understand: what was Miss Tibbs wittering on about? How could they all know about Anya, when she had only just discovered their friend was missing? ‘Please bring Mum to the phone,’ she begged. She was still waiting, nervously chewing a fingernail, when Ruth let herself into the apartment a few minutes later.

‘Hello, Rose, where is my errant brother? Have I missed him?’

Rose put her hand over the receiver. ‘He left a couple of hours ago; sorry, I’ll be with you in a moment, Ruth . . . lovely to see you, by the way,’ she managed to smile as she turned her back to speak to Flora.

‘Mum, whatever is Miss Tibbs doing answering the telephone? You know how she gets confused. Look, I can’t hang about, but wanted you to know that Anya isn’t where she said she was. I’ve just been to the training school, and they say she’s not working there. A manager told me to speak to Ben about it as he knows something. It was all a bit garbled, but I’m going to have to stay on here another day to find out what is happening. I’m about to ring the police to ask for help . . . Mum, are you there?’

‘Darling, please stop talking, I can’t get a word in edgeways. I too have disturbing news; the police have just left. Someone took Anya’s son this morning.’ Flora went on to explain what had happened. ‘The police won’t believe me when I tell them it was Tom White. I believe he took the baby thinking it was Mary.’ Now it was Flora’s turn to call down the line, as it crackled and the sound faltered. ‘Rose . . . can you hear me?’

Ruth stepped in front of Rose and held out her hand. ‘Give me the telephone, Rose,’ she said firmly. Surprised, Rose held out the receiver to her sister-in-law, who placed it back into its cradle. ‘Now, let’s sit down and have a talk, shall we?’

‘I can’t, I need to speak to the police. I don’t know if you heard, Ruth, but I found out this morning that Anya isn’t at work – and she never has been. Something terrible must have happened to her,’ Rose stammered, her throat constricting with the tension of holding back tears. ‘And now Mum says someone has taken Alexsy. She mentioned Tom White’s name . . .’

‘Oh God,’ Ruth said, her hard exterior shattering as she put her arms round Rose and hugged her.

‘Anya needs to know as soon as possible, but I don’t know where she is. What a bloody mess! Mr Montgomery at the training school told me to look to my family. He didn’t say any more and he seemed not to want to speak to me. He all but ran out of his office. I just don’t understand,’ she cried.

‘It’s me who knows what happened to Anya,’ Ruth said, ‘and I’m not able to tell you anything.’ She reached for a silver cigarette box on a nearby occasional table, took out a cigarette with trembling fingers and lit it before offering it to Rose.

‘I will, thank you; my nerves are shattered,’ Rose said, taking the cigarette with shaking hands. ‘I want to know what’s happening, Ruth. It’ll go no further. However, if you don’t tell me, I’ll blab to everyone I know . . .’ She glared at her sister-in-law.

‘I can say that Anya is safe and well at this very moment.’

Rose frowned. ‘You make it sound as though she’s being held against her will.’

Ruth gave her a pleading look. ‘Don’t ask me any more. I won’t be able to answer without getting into serious trouble.’

Rose snorted. ‘You mean to say, you care more about saving your own skin than you do about Anya’s safety?’

‘That’s not the case at all. We are in the middle of a war, Rose, and although people laugh at the warning posters, it is very true that careless talk can cost lives.’

Rose turned pale. ‘I don’t begin to understand what is happening, but can’t you at least get word to Anya that Alexsy is missing?’

Ruth shook her head, dismissing the idea at once. ‘Anya needs to be one hundred per cent focused on what she is doing. If her mind should wander . . . I dread to think what would happen.’ She went to the cocktail cabinet and poured two generous helpings of brandy. ‘I think we both need this; go on, take it,’ she insisted, as Rose started to refuse. ‘Tell me more about this man who is supposed to have taken Anya’s child.’

Rose sipped the amber liquid slowly, wincing as it burnt the back of her throat, and then began to tell Ruth about Tom White and what a bounder he was. ‘Mum seems to think he took Alexsy by mistake, thinking he was Mary. But why he wants the little girl after all this time, when he was so beastly to Lily, God only knows.’

‘It does sound likely that Flora is right and he thought he was snatching Mary,’ Ruth said thoughtfully. ‘But why would a man take such a risk, trying to snatch a child he’s never shown any feeling for and didn’t even want to acknowledge? We all agree he is up to no good, but there must be a reason . . .’

‘When he spoke with Mum yesterday, he got her to say she would ask Lily if he could see his child.’

Ruth raised her eyebrows. ‘And did she do that?’

‘No, I don’t think she’d had a chance yet.’

‘So it’s possible that when he bumped into Flora today, he decided on impulse to make the most of the encounter and snatch the child?’

‘That sounds about right, but you’d need to speak to her to check the facts.’

‘Rather tricky, as she’d want to know why I was involving myself in the whole situation. I do sympathize, though. And actually, I know of someone who could turn up to help . . .’

Rose put down her glass. ‘In that case, I’m going to head for home and see what I can do there. What shall I say about Anya?’

‘Tell Flora she’s been moved to Lyons’ head office at Cadby Hall to help out there due to staff shortages. She’s not likely to question you.’

‘Good idea, but can you promise me that when you know something about Anya, you will tell me? My lips are sealed,’ Rose said, running her fingers along her mouth as if to zip it closed.

‘I’ll do my best,’ Ruth said, although she didn’t make eye contact as she spoke. ‘Let me get you a taxi to the station. I’ll pay for it.’

‘Thank you,’ Rose said. That would mean she’d be able to catch an earlier train to get home and help with the search. ‘When will the person you know turn up at Ramsgate? And should I say something to Mum?’

‘Let’s keep it between ourselves, so Flora doesn’t get wind that I’m involved. It’s best if as few people know as possible.’

Rose went to collect her suitcase from the bedroom, wondering what else Ruth wasn’t telling her.

‘It’s been twenty-four hours and Alexsy is still missing,’ Katie sniffed. ‘What can we do to help that we’ve not done already?’ she asked.

‘Don’t be disheartened,’ Lily consoled her. ‘I feel it in my gut that he will be found before too long, especially if Flora is right and it was my Mary Tom thought he had taken. Mind you, if I get my hands on the blighter, I’ll knock him from here to next Tuesday and back again.’

Katie looked at Lily through unshed tears. ‘Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past him to be violent. The police wouldn’t be impressed, either.’

‘Pah to the police, they’ve done very little since it happened. If it wasn’t for friends and neighbours, there’d be no one out searching for him.’

Katie turned away from Lily and took out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

‘Please don’t be upset, Katie. Alexsy will be found.’

‘Anya trusted me to care for him. Whatever will she think? There is something else . . . I wasn’t going to say anything, but . . .’

‘Come on, you can tell me.’ Lily put her arm around her friend’s shoulder.

‘I hoped that after my Jack came home on leave, I’d be pregnant.’

Lily was puzzled. ‘Surely it’s too soon to know? It’s only been a few days.’

‘No,’ Katie sniffed. ‘Aunty visited hours after he left. I prayed that this time it would happen.’

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ Lily sympathized. ‘No wonder you’re so down. But you and Jack are young; you will fall before too long.’

‘I hope so. I was hoping to be able to write to him in a few months and give him good news. He must think it is my fault.’

‘It’s no one’s fault. You need to do something to take your mind off things. We both don’t need to be in work until this afternoon, so why don’t we go down to Flora’s and help her put up some posters around the town? There’s a bus due in ten minutes. Wash your face and let’s get our skates on.’

‘Do you mind going on your own? I want to wash my hair before I start work.’

‘Of course I don’t mind; and then let’s have a lazy evening at home. I’ll bring some leftover food home after work, so we won’t need to cook.’

‘That sounds lovely – you will be careful, won’t you? In case Mary gets taken?’

‘I’ll guard her with my life,’ Lily promised as she went to get Mary ready for her outing.

Katie put water into the largest of their pans and set it on the stove to heat along with the kettle; that would be enough to wash her hair, and then have a cup of tea afterwards. She felt rather a fool for breaking down in front of Lily, but she’d felt so low about not having a baby of her own. Watching both Lily and Anya with their youngsters, and Flora bringing up Daisy after adopting her, she felt left out.

Thinking of Anya spurred her on to wash and dry her hair as quickly as possible so that she could hurry to Flora’s before her shift and collect some posters to put up in the Ramsgate teashop. She also had a photograph of Alexsy that she would show to customers. An hour later, having checked her hair and added a little rouge to her cheeks, she decided she was ready to go to work. After making sure the back door was locked she went to the front door, collecting her coat and gas mask from the hallstand. As she was buttoning up her navy blue coat and tying the belt there was a knock on the door.

‘Hold on a moment,’ she called out as she picked up her bag and mask, meaning to speak to whoever it was and leave at the same time. A smile crossed her face as she saw who was on her doorstep. ‘Hello; are you on your own?’ she asked, glancing past Stew for Peter.

Stew was struggling with a large box. ‘He’s on duty. I wanted to drop this by, but I see you are going out,’ he said.

‘I’m in good time, so I can catch the next bus,’ she smiled, stepping back so he could come into the house.

‘Shall I go through to the kitchen?’

‘Please do, before you drop that,’ she replied, taking off her coat and hanging it up. ‘I’m intrigued as to what’s inside.’

He pulled open the flaps of carboard and stepped back for her to look in. ‘Oh my goodness, two chickens!’ she shrieked, causing them to flutter their wings.

‘I’m assured they are good layers,’ he said as he closed the box. ‘I can bring around another two, if you’re keen?’

‘I’m sorely tempted, as we can always share the eggs with the ladies at Sea View and the children will love helping to care for them. Will they be all right in the empty rabbit hutch until we build them a proper home? Mary has no idea that the rabbits went into the pot recently. We felt awful, but that was the idea for having them.’

‘I don’t see why not. Let’s go out to the garden and see if it’s suitable. I can come round and build you a proper house for them, if I can stay to tea and have boiled eggs and soldiers,’ he grinned.

‘That’s a deal. My mouth is watering at the thought,’ she said, unlocking the door and leading him out into the garden. Her mood lifted as Stew explained that he’d always had chickens at home, and hoped his wife was managing to care for them on her own.

‘I’m eager to learn,’ she smiled. ‘Flora has been offered an allotment and we are all going to help maintain it. What with fresh fish from Mildred and our own vegetables and eggs, we won’t have to worry about queuing and rationing quite as much.’

‘Have you thought about organizing a pig club?’

‘Crikey, no! I don’t want a pig living in our back garden.’

‘Think about it. I’m happy to help advise on that as well as running an allotment.’

‘Do you have time, what with fighting a war?’ she asked, thinking how generous he was being to a group of strangers.

‘It’s my pleasure; I miss growing and building things. My wife will have a list a mile long when I get home and I’ll enjoy putting things right and helping look after our children when I can. Here, let me show you my family,’ he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a wallet containing several photographs. She was just about to take them when in the distance the sound of the air-raid siren started to grow, getting louder and louder until they could see something on the horizon. ‘Enemy planes,’ he said, cupping his eyes with his hands.

She grabbed his arm, a look of panic on her face. ‘We’ve got to get into the shelter. It’s this way,’ she said, pulling him towards the bottom of the garden.

They almost fell into the Anderson shelter as the sound of planes droned overhead. Stew closed the doors, plunging them into darkness.

‘We have some candles and matches,’ Katie said, starting to feel around.

‘Here, let me help.’ He flicked on his cigarette lighter. The flame cast flickering shadows throughout the shelter, causing Katie to shiver as she reached under the bunk bed to retrieve a biscuit tin containing candles and matches. It was wrapped in oilcloth to keep them dry.

‘Under normal circumstances I’d have brought the bag containing a torch and flasks that we keep by the back door. There was also a can of paraffin to top up the stove; it’s enough to warm this small space,’ she said, shivering. ‘Everything gets so damp down here, we tend to carry blankets and rugs indoors to dry them out.’

‘Don’t tell me, they’re in the kitchen,’ he said with a rueful laugh, as she lit two candles and secured them on old saucers. ‘Hopefully we won’t be down here for long, but I’ll go and get them.’ He started to get to his feet to open the shelter door.

‘No!’ she shrieked, grabbing his jacket and pulling him back towards her. ‘Don’t be a fool. With luck they’ll be heading for the airfield, but you can’t take that chance.’

A look of pain crossed his face. ‘I pray the lads got our planes up in time,’ he said as he sank down onto the bottom bunk. Katie sat next to him, shivering, as the sound of bombs exploding could be heard not far away.

‘Show me the photographs of your family,’ she said, trying to distract them both from thoughts of his comrades fighting the enemy.

He reached into his pocket and took out the photographs. ‘This is John, our eldest; he will be nine now, and Andrew is coming up seven years of age. Grace, our youngest, is three; it doesn’t seem five minutes since she was born. In fact . . .’ He pulled out his wallet and removed a smaller photograph. ‘This is Moira, my wife, not long before Grace was born.’ The photo showed a heavily pregnant woman laughing into the camera.

Katie felt a sob catch in her throat. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, she thought to herself as she trembled uncontrollably.

‘Here, take this,’ he said, noticing her shivering and removing his jacket to place around her shoulders. She leant against him, feeling his warmth and comforting arms as he held her close while her tears flowed. Her grief for the family she so desperately wanted, and might never have, poured out like never before. Here in the dimly lit shelter, somehow it felt safe for her to let the feelings out while Stew held her close and whispered words of comfort.