Page 115 of Strangers in Time

Macklin gave her another incredulous look. “Thing is, this last time I saw him, the boy had on one of them messenger uniforms.”

“I’m sorry,messengeruniforms?”

“You know, the telegram lads? Riding their bicycles around in their smart uniforms and pillbox hats, with the pasteboard flapping around their necks saying, ‘Why don’t you send a telegram to your cousin in Brighton for a shilling and make him smile.’ I know who’d be smiling, all right. It’d be the one with all them shillings.” She looked wistful. “I haven’t sent a telegram in years. Have nobody to send one to. But they do a nice business with the war and all, so I’ve heard.”

“Oh, well, are you sure it was Tommy?”

“I just know it was the same lad what was there before. I can’t tell you his name.” She looked sharply at Molly as she said this.

“Yes, well, thank you, Mrs. Macklin. I hope you have a good day.”

“Itwillbe a good day, if the damn Germans don’t show up and ruin it.”

THEWAROFFICEROARS

IT WASSATURDAY, ANDMolly had the day off, though she was due to work on Sunday. She had planned to get up early and make breakfast for Oliver, but he had beaten her to the pan and kettle. She had earlier told him about Charlie’s peering in the window, and about Macklin seeing him wearing a messenger’s uniform.

“That certainly narrows things down for my search,” Oliver had said. “I just wish he had talked to us.”

“He’s probably afraid he’ll get us in trouble.”

“No doubt.”

Now he was standing by the cooker wielding a skillet.

“A real fried egg, and bacon and ham sound good?” he said. “And a pint of cold milk. Not condensed or powered, mind you. The liquid that comes from actual cows.”

Molly looked astonished. “Baconandham? And a pint of real milk?Anda real egg? For one meal?” Ever since she had come to live here, Molly’s expectations for food had been radically altered.

“New rations for the week and a bit of a flutter. I mean, why not?”

“Sounds lovely. If you think it’s not too much.”

“I wish I could provide you with a lot more food, Molly, particularly with the important work you do. The troops get hot, freshfood in cookhouses when in camp. On the front lines that’s not possible. They have to rely on preserved food in Bully Beef tins and the like. Well, I consider you to be part of the war effort, and you must be fed properly.”

“And you too, with your air raid duties.”

He smiled. “Well, I might have a bit of the bacon and ham then, too.”

They sat and ate. Molly swallowed a mouthful of eggs and looked at him keenly. “You know, you, Charlie, and I, we’ve all lost people we loved.”

“Your nanny’s death was truly tragic, but your father may turn up. And your mother is in Cornwall.”

“I seriously doubt my father will ever return home, Mr. Oliver, if the charges against him are true. And he might not even be alive.” This was a statement that Molly could not have even contemplated uttering a short while ago. But with everything that had happened, it just seemed the practical thing to do was confront the real possibilities life threw at you.

“He might not,” agreed Oliver.

“As to my mother, I’ve done some research into the medical terms that were in the letters from the Beneficial Institute using books that are at the clinic. It is extremely unlikely that she will ever fully recover.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.”

“But if I hadn’t happened upon Charlie, and we both hadn’t found you, I’m not sure what would have become of us.”

“I can say the same, Molly. My life was terribly lonely. For around a year now it has just been me. And… and memories of Imogen. I can see now that that is not the healthiest manner of living. And it was you and Charlie who helped me to see it. That I had more to give, additional friendships to form. I mean, if life doesn’t contain that, what is the point of existing, really?”

“Please don’t say that that was something Imogen told you.”

He smiled in a self-satisfied way. “No, that bit was actually all mine.”

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