“Yes?” demands Eudora.
Another face appears above the child’s—a nervously smiling woman with unkempt hair whom Eudora eyes with disdain.
“Sorry to bother you,” says the woman a little too loudly.
The child’s frown deepens. “Mum. Why are you shouting?”
Eudora raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” says the woman to the child. “Sorry,” she repeats to Eudora. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves. We’re your new neighbors.”
“Oh,” says Eudora.
“Why have you got this chain on your door? Is it broken?” asks the little girl.
“It’s to keep out unwanted intruders,” replies Eudora with meaning.
“We’re not intruders, so you can open it properly, if you like.”
Eudora does not like, but she is never rude. She unhooks the chain.
“That’s better,” says the little girl. “I’m Rose Trewidney, by the way.”
Eudora regards Rose Trewidney for a moment. She is dressed in a cherry-red T-shirt calamitously teamed with a purple ra-ra skirt.
“And I’m Maggie,” adds her mother. “We’ve moved up from Cornwall today. It’s been quite a journey, but we’ve made it. It seems like a lovely neighborhood, rather fewer beaches than Cornwall of course.”
Maggie laughs, although Eudora has no idea why. She remains silent as this woman fills the air with words. She is aware of the little girl gazing up at her.
Eventually, Maggie runs out of words. “So anyway, we just wanted to say hi.”
“Will that removals lorry be there long?” demands Eudora, nodding in its direction.
Maggie glances over her shoulder. “Oh, erm, hopefully not. Is it in your way?”
“It is parked over the space in front of my house.”
“Right, well, I’m very sorry about that.”
“What’s your cat called?” asks Rose, ignoring the tension building above her head.
“Montgomery,” says Eudora irritably.
“Aww, Montgomery. Here, Montgomery,” says Rose, kneeling down, making kissing noises to entice him.
“He’s not very friendly,” warns Eudora.
The cat makes a beeline for Rose and, to Eudora’s amazement, not only allows her to stroke him but starts to purr when she makes the potentially life-threatening move to pick him up.
“Aww, you’re a lovely boy, aren’t you? We used to have a cat but he got run over.”
Eudora stares as Rose hugs the cat tightly while firing a series of questions at her. She finds herself with no choice but to answer.
“What’s your name?”
“Eudora.”
“And how old are you?”
“Eighty-five.”
“I’m ten. Do you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“And do you have any children?”
“No.”
“That must be lonely.”
Eudora frowns. “It isn’t.”
“Do you like the Queen?”
“Of course.”
“Me too.”
Her mother interjects. “Rose, I think we’ve taken up quite enough of Eudora’s time,” she says. She mouths an apology to the old woman. “Come on. Let’s go and sort out your room.”
“Oh. Okay,” says Rose. She kisses the cat on his head and plonks him on the floor before following her mother back down the path.
“Bye, Eudora. Bye, Montgomery. See you soon.”
Eudora closes her front door and stands there for a moment, wondering what on earth has just happened. A sound emits from her mouth—a strange, foreign sound—quiet and wholly unexpected. The cat stares up at her in surprise as he hears his owner chuckle for the first time in his living memory before he skulks away in search of food.
1940
Sidney Avenue, South-East London
Stella Honeysett announced her arrival to the world with a scream as piercing as the siren’s wail that forced her laboring mother into the Anderson shelter, which Albert had built before he left.
“To keep my angels safe,” he told Eudora as she helped him cover its corrugated-iron structure with tarpaulin. Then she watched while he shoveled great spadefuls of earth on top.
“Snug as a bug,” he said, standing back to admire their handiwork. He glanced down at Eudora with a smile. “Now, will you help me replant my poor old marrow on top? I had to dig him up to make way for your new nighttime home.”
“Of course, Daddy.”
“Good girl. And then we can make it nice and cozy inside for you and Mummy.”
“And the new baby,” said Eudora, adopting what she hoped was a responsible expression.
Albert leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I can see that I’m leaving Mummy and your new brother or sister in good hands.”
Eudora beamed up at him like a flower turning its head toward the sun. Although she didn’t want her father to leave, Eudora knew that he was doing his duty and that she, in turn, must do hers. She was sure that if she did exactly as her father asked, God and Mr. Churchill would send him back to them unharmed.
“Someone’s gone up in the world,” came an accusing voice from over the fence.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Crabb,” said Albert, propping his shovel against the new shelter and approaching their neighbor. “You and Mrs. Crabb are more than welcome to use our shelter if London’s bombed—there’s enough room for six people.”
Mr. Crabb looked appalled. “Adolf Hitler is not going to chase me from my bed.”
Eudora’s eyes grew wide as an image of their terrifying enemy chasing Mr. Crabb around his bedroom flooded her imagination.
“We didn’t let Fritz beat us last time, and we’re damn well not going to let them beat us this time!”
Eudora gasped. Albert placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Well, you’re both welcome if you change your minds. Now, if you’ll excuse us,” he said, leading his daughter away.
Mr. Crabb was still muttering about “the bastard Boche.” Eudora clung tighter to her father’s hand. She sometimes woke to hear their neighbor crying out in the dead of night. It was a chilling sound, not of anger but more like an animal, trapped and desperate. The first time she heard it, she ran from her room and bumped straight into her father on the landing.
He had knelt down, pulling her trembling body close. “It’s all right, my darling Dora. It’s all right. Mr. Crabb can’t help it. He lost his son during the war, you see, and he’s having a nightmare. That’s all. It’s a terrible nightmare. Do you understand?”
Eudora didn’t but nodded her head rapidly to pretend that she did. Any shared confidence with her father was treasure to Eudora, a precious gem to be cushioned in her heart forever. She always tried to be kind whenever she saw Mr. Crabb, but there was something about his wild gaze and unpredictable nature that terrified her.
Eudora helped her father drag an old rectangle of carpet into the shelter and held pieces of wire mesh across wooden frames while he nailed them together to craft makeshift beds. Albert placed roll-up mattresses on top of the bed frames and stood back satisfied.
“Shall we try them for size, Dora?” he asked, his eyes sparkling as he lit a candle and placed it inside a flowerpot.