Page 83 of Never Tear Us Apart
‘I will,’ I promise.
‘Right, pay attention.’ Kathryn is laser-focused. ‘I can’t go any further with you – you’ll have to find your way on your own. I’m going back to the front desk now to tell them you wandered off when I wasn’t looking, then we are going to search for you. Either we’ll find you in about fifteen minutes or you will have vanished into thin air and we can create an urban myth about you, the woman who vanished into the past.’ She grips my hands tightly in hers. ‘I will miss you.’
‘Kathryn,’ I whisper, ‘thank you. For everything. You took me to your heart about five seconds after we met. I will never forget that.’
‘And you’ve given me an understanding of these temples and islands that I could have lived a lifetime without having,’ Kathryn says. ‘And this is going to sound weird, but I hope you make it, Maia. I hope I never see you again.’
We hug, briefly but tightly, and Kathryn hurries back to the front desk.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ she calls back.
The temple welcomes me into the folds of her belly, and together we begin to sing.
Chapter Sixty
Tuesday 11thAugust 1942, 6.30 a.m.
It’s the golden light of an early dawn. Everything is still. The night sky still lingers over the lilac horizon. A pale moon sinks towards the sea.
The bag Kathryn gave me is still slung over my shoulder, the toys safely inside.
The streets are almost silent. I have stepped out of time into Floriana. I start for the half-house, knowing my way by heart by now, waiting for the city around me to pull itself from fevered sleep and face another day.
Then I see fishermen heading down towards the harbour, caps slouched low on their foreheads, shopkeepers keeping a resolute schedule, sweeping the paths in front of empty stores. I pass a poster for a Victory Kitchen and some women already starting work on cooking that day’s communal meal.
I see a boy carrying a sheaf of precious single-sheet copies of theTimes of Maltaunder his arm.
‘May I look?’ I ask him.
He hands me a sheet and waits. I read the date:11thAugust.The day after Sal sent me back. Four days until the siege is broken, one less than that until Danny and Stella are killed.
When I was about eight, Mum used to take me for midnight walks. She’d wake me up and tell me she wanted to show me the moon or the stars – or how the deer seemed tofloat above the mist on the hillside. It always seemed unfair to her, she’d told me when I was older, that little children never get to see the magic of the night when they are most receptive to its wonders. And it is true that I think I remember watching fairies dance in a woodland clearing. They were probably fireflies, or it was just my imagination, but now it is embedded in my mind as something real that happened: me and Mum leaning against the silvery trees, my hand enclosed in hers, as we watch the magical creatures flit and fly. It doesn’t matter to me if it actually happened or not. All that matters is that it feels like it did. And that helped a lot after she died. She showed me all the magic she saw in the world, gave me faith in its power – and that was her greatest gift to me.
‘Where are you off to at this hour?’ A familiar voice stops me in my tracks.
‘Hello, Christina,’ I say with delight as I race to her side. ‘I’ve missed you!’
‘Darling, I haven’t been anywhere.’ Christina lights a cigarette, blowing smoke into the air as we begin to walk together towards her lodgings. ‘Well, except at work. What a night it was. They are hitting us harder than ever now, don’t you think? We’re days from running out of food, fuel and ammo. God knows what then.’
‘Did we lose many of our boys?’ I ask her tentatively.
Christina searches my face for a moment. ‘Danny Beauchamp is fine,’ she tells me. ‘And my Warby came home safe, thank God. But there will be a good few sweethearts waking up from dreams of beaus they don’t know they’ve lost yet. God, I hate this bloody war.’ She drops the end of her cigarette and stamps it out vigorously. She turns her face away. Her shoulders tremble.
‘Me too,’ I tell her, taking her hand and pulling her into a hug. ‘It must be unbearable seeing those aircraft vanish from the map, especially when Adrian is in the air.’
‘It is, rather.’ Christina straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. ‘But it’s the least I can bloody do, isn’t it?’
‘Actually, Christina,’ I tell her, ‘I think what you do goes above and beyond – you’re a hero in this war.’
She smiles at me, tears shining in her eyes. ‘Thank you, old girl. But don’t be too nice to me. I shan’t know myself.’ She kisses me on the cheek. ‘Now, I want you to do something for me.’
‘Anything,’ I promise her.
‘Tell me to buck up and get on,’ she says firmly. ‘And come to my party.’
‘You’re having a party?’ I ask.
‘Yes, tonight. It’s very short notice, I know, and of course it might seem in bad taste, fiddling as Rome burns . . . But Alex and I thought that after the losses we’ve had in the last few weeks, and poor Vittoria, we all needed a bit of a lift. So the Whizz Bangs are reforming for one night only. We’ve asked if we can hold a dance at the officers’ club tonight, and the powers-that-be have said yes! You and the prof are both invited, of course! You will come, won’t you? Danny will be there.’
