Page 151 of Strangers in Time

LATEDECEMBER1944WAScold and blustery in London, which meant it was quite normal weather for that time of year.

Eloise Wakefield had died three nights after the encounter with her husband. They had learned that the police had tracked Herbert Wakefield to the Beneficial Institute, and he had been killed in the ensuing chase.

Molly had been holding her mother’s hand as she passed peacefully.

Seeing her father at the end, and learning that he had killed those men, had shocked Molly. At one level she could understand why he had done what he had. At another level, she could never forgive him. With the deaths of both her parents so close together, she had been left bereft. If it hadn’t been for Oliver and Charlie’s love and support, Molly knew she could not have survived the twin losses. Still, she had cried so much that when she was done, Molly doubted she had any tears left to shed. Ever.

The Tinsdales, after a call from Molly, had arranged for her parents’ bodies to be brought back to London, where they were buried, with Molly, Charlie, and Oliver in attendance after returning from Cornwall.

Later, Molly had traveled north to see the Tinsdales for Christmas. After she returned, she told Oliver and Charlie that the Tinsdales would support her university education.

“They’re actually very nice and were quite welcoming to me. I mean, really, I’m a perfect stranger, but they made me feel quite at home. And they’re really all the family I have left now.”

“You’re fortunate to have found them, as they are to have found you,” commented Oliver.

There was never any question of Molly’s actually going to live with the Tinsdales. She had made it clear that she intended to live with Oliver and Charlie and continue her work as a nurse auxiliary for the remainder of the war.

Charlie was still a telegram messenger, and he was very busy because it seemed that the long and torturous war would be ending soon, and folks were anxious for life to return to normal. Sending season’s greetings and well wishes and inflated hopes via telegram seemed to be the ticket. Charlie certainly preferred those to delivering death notices.

The bombings had tailed off considerably, and the newspapers and the BBC broadcasts were filled with the news of one Allied victory after another. The mood in London was much better, although Germany had unleashed more V-2 rocket attacks against select targets in England and Europe, but not with the widespread devastation wrought by the traditional carpet bombing raids.

For a while Oliver had gone to the study every day in hopes of finishing Imogen’s book, but now, having been to the spot where she had ended her life, it seemed that his creative spirit was even more blighted than before. Finally, he simply stopped going.

On New Year’s Eve, they gathered with their fellow Londoners to welcome in the year 1945 with the hopes of peace soon to be ahead.

Walking back to The Book Keep after the festivities, Oliver had said, “Molly, while you now have the Tinsdales, I guess we are each other’s families, too.”

Molly said, “You both are myfirstfamily; the Tinsdales are quite a distant second. But please don’t tell them I said so.” She smiled embarrassedly. “I do so want to go to university.”

Oliver said, “And you, Charlie, what dreams have you when this madness is over?”

“I liked seein’ that water in the Channel. I mean, I seen water before, in the Thames. But that don’t really go nowhere. The Channel now, what comes after that, well, it makes you think about thin’s.”

“You could become a world traveler,” said Molly. “And write about it.”

Charlie broke into a smile, a rare thing for him. “Even if I’m the only one that reads it.” He glanced at both of them. “It was the worst thin’ ever to lose my family. But it woulda been a lot worse if I hadn’t met the both of you. I don’t think I woulda made it but for that.”

“I don’t think any of us would have,” added Molly.

Oliver said, “Sometimes it simply comes down to the serendipity of whom one meetsandwhen.”

“Is that Imogen or Ignatius speaking?” asked Molly.

“It’s a bit of both actually,” he replied with a generous smile. “And isn’t that a wonderful thing?”

The days continued to turn cold and bitter. During the evenings they would sit in The Book Keep, Molly reading, Charlie scribbling furiously in a third journal, having filled the first two, and Oliver going over the shop accounts and doing theLondon Timescrossword.

When the air raid siren sounded in late January, they all looked up from what they were doing. Oliver already had on his uniform and was about to commence his patrol. Charlie and Molly bustled into their winter coats, and they all hurried outside.

At the front door of The Book Keep Oliver said, “Now, go to the usual shelter. I doubt it will be much. The Germans are running out of things to chuck at us. I’ll join you there in a jiffy.”

They had parted ways and Oliver met up with Lee Parker. The two wardens compared their lists, checked the shelters, and found four people missing. They split that number and set off in opposite directions.

Deep in the basement of a warehouse near the river, Molly and Charlie sat next to each other. It was quite cold down here, but experience told them that the comingled body heat of all the folks here would soon rectify that.

“Do you think it will be bad tonight?” asked Molly.

“Dunno. Last few times it ain’t been.”

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