Page 81 of The Last Night in London
“We should all stay here and listen to the wireless,” Alex suggested. “We have less than an hour.”
Graham glanced at the small carriage clock ticking away on the mantel, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “So we do.”
“I’ll get refreshments,” Precious offered as she stood. “I made chess pie and sweet tea. I’m thinking sugar will top the ration list, so we might as well enjoy it.”
Eva jumped up, too, unwilling to sit still and listen to the clock tick by the wasted minutes—time she and Graham couldn’t spend alone, waiting for the news that would seal all of their fates. “I’ll help,” she said, following Precious into the kitchen.
As if feeling the same nervousness, Graham moved toward the wireless to turn it on. From the kitchen, Eva overheard the announcer describing the evacuation of London’s children, which was going on at that very moment, as if war were already a foregone conclusion.
When Precious and Eva returned, the men were standing by the wireless, an air of tension thick in the room, although both Alex and Graham retained their calm demeanors. Precious laid out the refreshments, and they all politely took plates and glasses that would remain untouched.
The minutes continued to tick by. Eva sat on the sofa and was immediately joined by Alex. Graham appeared not to notice; he tookhis own seat next to Precious in one of the two matched club chairs Eva and Precious had received as a gift from Sophia.
Restless, needing the fresh air and the blue sky, Eva jumped up again to open the casement windows at the front of the room. The sound of traffic below would prove that life was continuing as usual. Because surely it was too nice a day outside for a declaration of war. She kept the thought to herself, knowing how absurd it was, but all the same, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to believe such a thing was possible.
A church bell tolled nearby, announcing the eleven o’clock hour. Still nothing from the prime minister as the minutes continued to tick by without anyone attempting conversation. And then the anonymous male announcer, his impeccable accent one Eva had studied night after night, said, “This is London. You will now hear a statement from the prime minister.”
Eva met Graham’s gaze across the room. She wished she were sitting next to him, holding his hand. Feeling the solidity of him against her side. She glanced at the clock. A quarter past the hour. As if by unspoken agreement, they returned their attention to the wireless, looking at it as if the prime minister had suddenly joined them in their drawing room.
“This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by eleven o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.”
“God Save the King” began to play, and the foursome found themselves staring at one another in stunned silence. When the song ended, Graham stood and flipped off the wireless, his face pale. “And so it has begun.”
The air raid siren began to wail only minutes later. They were still in their places, their untouched plates of food in front of them. Graham moved first. “Quickly, grab your gas masks. We’ll go to Regent’s Park Underground for shelter.”
Alex looked as if he wanted to argue but stayed silent. With shaking hands, Eva slipped on a pair of shoes; then Alex, Precious, and Eva obediently followed Graham out of the flat, not even pausing to lock the door. Eva felt an odd stillness inside, as if everything were happening to someone else.
They rushed out of the building. The sirens continued to wail, and people emerged from the surrounding buildings, looking around in confusion as traffic on Marylebone Road slowed.
Eva felt Graham take her hand. As he led her away from the crowd headed to the tube station, she scanned the clear sky above for planes, unable to forget her wishful thinking: that such an awful thing couldn’t happen on a perfect Sunday morning. Graham pulled her to the left, separating them from Alex and Precious. When Eva looked behind her, she saw her friend and Alex were together, part of a throng of people headed toward the tube.
“Where are we going?” she asked, nearly jogging to stay next to Graham.
“The nanny tunnel under Euston Road—not many people know of it.”
In silence, Eva followed him down a steep path on an embankment beside the sidewalk and through an iron gate completely hidden from the road. She barely had time to register where they were before he pulled her into a short white brick-walled tunnel. She could hear the traffic and the horns of the motorcars and buses on the road above them.
She was breathing heavily, from the exertion of running and the terror of anticipated explosions. Fear, too, that war was now certain and Graham would be leaving her. The hand that clutched his shook uncontrollably, and she couldn’t get it to stop.
“It’s just a drill,” Graham reassured her. “That’s the all clear sounding.”
Eva nodded, willing herself to calm down. Willing herself not to beg him to stay.
Graham pulled her to him, close enough that she felt the buckleof his jacket press against her, felt the brass buttons on his chest and smelled the wool of his uniform, felt the embroidered wings against her cheek. Eva closed her eyes, committing him to memory. “Don’t go.” The words came from her heart before her head could stop them.
“Eva.” He breathed her name into her hair.
“Promise me.”
“Anything, darling.”
“Promise me that you’ll come back to me.”
He pulled away, his eyes dark like the shadows of the tunnel. “I can only promise that I love you, Eva. That I always will.”
She stepped away, then stumbled out the other side of the tunnel into a deserted corner of the park, a secret garden. The air seemed saturated with the scent of fresh-cut grass and the heat of the late-summer day. “Well, then,” she said, her heart aching with every word, “I suppose that means I shouldn’t promise you that I’ll be waiting when you come back.”
He stopped behind her. “I know you don’t mean that.”
