Page 2 of Summer of Fire
The next morning, the family bid farewell to Reginald at the harbour. He was stoic, but when Lizzie hugged him, she saw the deep sadness in his eyes.
A hurriedly packed small brown suitcase was all he was taking on the boat.
Lizzie’s heart shifted painfully. ‘Take care, Pa,’ she whispered, her face buried in his jacket. The tears welled in her eyes and rolled onto her cheeks.
He hugged her and stroked her hair. ‘Look after yourself, dear Lizzie. And please keep an eye on your mother.’
Rose’s eyes were wet as she waved goodbye to her husband long after the ship was merely a distant shape bobbing around like a toy on the Channel. None of them were in any rush to leave the harbour—going home without Pa made the war seem all too real.
‘It’ll be me leaving next,’ said Archie, his deep voice resolute.
Rose looked at her son, her face stricken no matter how she tried to hide her distress. ‘But you don’t have to go—not yet anyway. Pa said you won’t be conscripted as long as we’re in Jersey.’
‘All the more reason to stay then,’ Lizzie said.
The three sisters huddled in a circle, comforting one another.
Rose linked her arm through Archie’s, holding onto him as though she might physically stop him from leaving.
‘That may well be the case, but I’m of fighting age. I must volunteer, or I won’t be able to live with myself. My friends from Oxford have joined up, and some are already on their way to France.’
Lizzie watched her mother’s complexion turn ashen. Fear clutched at her as she thought of her family separated for the first time and her brother fighting in a brutal, bloody war. She still hoped it would all blow over and they could get back to normal life instead of hovering around the wireless, listening for the latest war reports every evening.
The morning sun was shrouded in cloud and gave off no heat. With Pa’s boat no longer in sight, Lizzie shivered as the chilly wind whipped off the sea. ‘Let’s go home now,’ she said.
Archie made for the driver’s seat, but Juliet claimed the spot with a triumphant squeal and fired up the engine. The others piled into the back and Juliet, who for a young woman had what Rose considered a most unhealthy fascination with cars, drove them back to Seagrove at breakneck speed.
Rose closed her eyes intermittently after Juliet refused to slow down and when Lizzie noticed how petrified her mother looked, it shattered her sombre mood and made her laugh.
‘It’s alright, Ma,’ she said and tucked her arm in hers.
Archie stared out to sea as they raced along the coastal road. He turned to face them and said, ‘Women are doing men’s jobs now on the mainland. It’s a shame none of you trained in the law or you could take over the family office. As it is, we’ll have to close it down when I leave. How will you manage, Ma?’
‘Your father says we can get by with the office closed for a while. But if things don’t resolve themselves soon, that will be another reason for us to join him in London.’
Lizzie slumped in the back of the car, her head resting onher mother’s shoulder. She adored her idyllic life in Jersey. In the summer months, she swam most days from the slip near Seagrove, and lay on the sand reading.
Images of her childhood school holidays, running on the beach with her sisters and French cousins swirled through her mind. They clambered over the rocks, playing hide and seek when the tide was out, drying off in the warm sunshine, and eating delicious picnics.
Lizzie was all grown up now, or so her mother kept telling her. She didn’t have a job like some of her friends, but there was never a dull moment.
Once a week, she cycled into St. Helier to do errands for the family, and the trip filled the best part of the day. Sometimes she would visit her father and brother at the office before cycling home.
Lizzie knew nothing of big city life. How on earth would an island girl fill her days in wartime London?
CHAPTER 2
London, Summer 1940
Lizzie inhaled the crisp morning air as she entered Regent’s Park, opposite her new London home.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to forget the war for just a moment as the heady scent of roses in bloom teased her senses and the sun warmed her skin. Even the war couldn’t dim the wonder of summer—the flowers swaying in the breeze, boldly proclaiming their autonomy.
Lizzie slipped through a tall ornate iron gate as she hurried to work. Things at the office were growing more hectic each day, but she didn’t feel like taking the bus and decided on a long walk instead.
Her heels clip clopped on the hard surface as she darted across the wide road and made it safely to the other side. Growing up on a tiny island had done nothing to prepare herfor the busy London roads, which were becoming increasingly chaotic with wartime traffic.
‘Good morning, miss,’ said the cheerful uniformed doorman she met every day.
