Page 40 of Strangers in Time

“Everyone has to do their part,” said Molly stoutly.

“So you’ve seen him, then?”

“Um, yes, yes I have. He’s quite… well, if… tired.”

Charlie now glanced at the hamper. “Do I smellmeat?”

“Mrs. Pride, my nanny, did some shopping. I passed Victoria Park on my way here. I thought we could have a picnic, though there were some barriers up at the entrance.”

“Vicky’s closed on ’count of the war. They got the big ack-ack guns there now.”

“Well, if you don’t mind a long walk, we could go to Hyde Park. Although we could take a cab. I don’t know if the Underground goes that far right now.”

Charlie slipped his cap and jacket off the pegs by the door. “I don’t mind walkin’ when I need to. And I never mind eatin’. And like you said, it’s a nice day.” Charlie looked down at his achy, pinched feet. “But if you can spare the coins, abusto the West End would be good.”

Charlie was finishing the last bit of fried sausage, tinned fish, and dried fruit, along with a chunk of cheddar.

Molly sat across from him on the blanket drinking from a cup of water.

She eyed the empty tin. “They had actual fish where I was staying along the coast.”

“Just got the tinned fish here,” said Charlie.

“Why is that?”

“U-boats. You don’t want to get sunk by no torpedo while you’re fishin’ in the Channel.”

“Oh, of course.”

“My gran says the shops got stuff that don’t look or smell like a fish. Maybe whale meat that’s, well, if you never have any in your whole life, that would be just fine.”

“Well, people have to make do with what they have. The ladies in my village used leg makeup because nylons are no longer available. Liquid Stockings, it was called. Came in a bottle. The women would even draw in hosiery seams with a black eyeliner pencil.”

Charlie looked up from his food. “Leg makeup?Why, I never heard of such a thin’.”

“Does your grandmother live with you and your mother?”

Charlie said smoothly, “Yeah. My granddad died a while back and she come to live with me and Mum.”

“Does your father come home on leave often?”

“Not too often, no,” said Charlie, looking back at his plate.

Molly glanced over at a nearby statue. “I remember seeing that when I was much younger,” she said. “Do you like it?”

Charlie turned to see a naked boy atop a large sea creature. He frowned and shook his head. “Looks like he’s hurtin’ whatever that is.”

“It’s adolphin. I read all about it. It was sculpted by Alexander Munro. He was a friend of Lewis Carroll’s, who wroteAlice in Wonderland. Although Lewis Carroll was his nom de plume. His real name was Charles Dodgson. And do you really think he’s hurting it?”

“How would you like someone’s knee on your back?” replied Charlie heatedly. “And look how he’s twistin’ its tail and pushin’ down on its head.”

“You don’t have to get so upset by a statue, Charlie.”

“I’m not upset,” he said irritably. He looked back at the statue. “But I don’t like it when people hurt thin’s that ain’t done nothin’ to them.”

“Yes, of course,” said Molly, taken aback by his retort. “I… I wouldn’t, either.”

She glanced over at several large antiaircraft guns with camouflage draping nestled in the middle of what had once been a pristine flower bed. She could see at least a dozen other guns like those, some stationary and fixed, and others on wheeled carriages. Soldiers with cigarettes in hand lingered here and there, ever at the ready if the sirens sounded and the German planes appeared. The nearly sixteen-foot-long gun barrels were aimed at the sky like enormous metal fingers pointing at something of interest there.

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