Page 7 of Whispers At Dawn
Jack said, ‘That’s another good thing about going to Toulouse. It’s not being pounded by the Luftwaffe.
Anyway, enough of this war talk for now, my darling. I’ve got other plans for us before we go to dinner.’
‘Have you, now?’ Lizzie said, a teasing lilt in her voice, as she caressed his firm muscular body and surrendered to his kisses, shivering beneath his touch.
CHAPTER 4
That evening Lizzie and Jack strolled hand in hand through the war-ravaged streets of London, crumbling buildings now a normal sight, on their way back to Jack’s flat after a modest meal. Lizzie pointed to the yellow moon glowing in the darkening sky, littered with twinkling stars.‘What is it they say about a full moon?’
Jack released a deep menacing growl near her ear, and Lizzie jumped and then dissolved into laughter. ‘Bloody hell. You scared me, you fool!’
Jack chuckled. ‘The werewolves will be on the prowl tonight. Anything could happen.’
‘Don’t say that. It’s such a beautiful evening. The sky looks magical.’
‘You’re a true romantic, darling,’ Jack said, recapturing her hand and pulling her gently along beside him. ‘Come on, let’s head home for a nightcap.’
They walked on in companionable silence, Lizzie loving the feel of her hand cocooned in his. ‘If I’m to pretend to be your wife in Toulouse, I need to know everything about you.’
‘I already think of you as my wife,’ he said, fixing his dark eyes on hers until she melted beneath the intensity.
Lizzie reached to kiss him, and they stood on the street sheltered in each other’s arms, as if there were no one else in war-torn London but them.
A near empty double-decker bus rumbled past, its headlights masked, startling them and they drew apart and resumed walking slowly, not wanting the enchanting evening to end. ‘Everyone must be at home already. I don’t remember London so quiet on a Saturday night, even since the blackout,’ Jack said.
‘Let’s hope it’s not the calm before the storm.’ Lizzie stifled a yawn. ‘The streets are almost deserted.’
‘The Blitz is getting to people. They’re worn out with the daily bombardments and I daresay they want to be at home, ready to get the family to a shelter if there’s a raid.’
‘Where have you been sheltering lately, by the way?’ Lizzie asked.
Jack shrugged. ‘There’s an Anderson shelter down the road, but I prefer the Underground. It’s not as cramped.’
‘A quiet night would be wonderful,’ Lizzie said as they entered the flat, and waves of tiredness crept over her. ‘I don’t know why I’m so weary. We spent most of the afternoon lounging in bed.’
‘I wouldn’t call that lounging,’ Jack said, his mouth curving into a devilish grin.
‘You know what I me?—’
A loud haunting sound interrupted Lizzie’s sentence, echoing through the flat. ‘Oh, my God. I tempted fate.’
Jack grabbed Lizzie’s hand and shouted over the din. ‘Come on, let’s get to the station to be on the safe side. I’m not taking any chances when you’re with me.’
‘I can’t hear you!’ shouted Lizzie over the wailing siren.
Still wearing her hat and coat, she turned and exited the door back into the street, which was already bustling with throngs of people. They milled about, running for shelter. Frightenedchildren clutched onto their mothers’ hands and parents scooped up toddlers into their arms so they could run faster.
Lizzie’s ears hurt with the shriek of the sirens. They ran to Baker Street station, the Underground swallowing them up like an ancient cave. Streams of people were in front and behind them. ‘I thought you said it wasn’t as cramped. It’s madness in here!’
‘Hmm,’ Jack said.
‘You don’t really come here, do you?’ Lizzie said when they paused to catch their breath after the frantic run.
‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. I’m here often to meet you. Come on, this is where I sheltered last time,’ Jack said, steering Lizzie into one of the dimly lit passages.
They huddled in a spot on the cold tiled floor, Lizzie leaning against Jack as he propped himself against the wall. Every time they heard a bomb screech and explode in the distance, Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut. She was praying hard that her parents had reached the shelter in the park, and Juliet and Evie were safe with them, and not out gallivanting for the evening, as her mother called it.
Wave after wave of loud blasts shook the foundations of the station until Lizzie muttered in a rare moment of reprieve. ‘When is it ever going to end?’
