“Well, I very much hope we are able to hear what brought you to the corrupt streets of the capital one day soon,” Clara said and sounded genuine.
“That would be nice,” Evelyn said, surprised at such curiosity and unsure what the appropriate response would be. “I’m afraid I should return to my friends. Look, I can see them waving at me.” Sure enough, Lilian was waving a hand in her direction. Vernon was no longer at the table with them, but Dorothy and James were both looking her way.
“Of course, we won’t hold you up any longer,” Clara said.
Evelyn smiled briefly at the three women and nodded her thanks once again to Jos, then returned to the chair next to James.
“We began to think you weren’t coming back,” Lilian said, her tone almost accusatory. “And what did Jos want? We saw her follow you.”
“My brooch fell off as I passed by. She was just returning it to me.” Somehow, Evelyn felt as though she needed to defend Jos from Lilian. “It was kind of her.”
“Hmm, well, you should be careful being alone with her, you know.”
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Why?”
“Smart question, darling! Yes, why, Lilian?” Dorothy chimed in.
“Well, you know her inclinations. And Evelyn’s not all that worldly.” Lilian clearly did not like being challenged.
“Jos is hardly likely to practice the art of seduction in the ladies’ washroom.”
Lilian was clearly annoyed at being ridiculed, her face florid. “You never know,” she muttered.
“I liked her, from what I saw of her,” Evelyn said. “She introduced me to Clara and Courtney too, they seem very nice. And very happy.”
“Much happier than most couples I’ve come across,” Dorothy said.
“That’s not really the point, Dorothy.” James spoke for the first time since Evelyn had returned. “Evelyn, you’ll find most people are nice here. And most of them have drunk enough gin and smoked enough fags to be happy too. But you have to be careful.”
“Please James, she’s not a child.” Dorothy seemed put out on Evelyn’s behalf.
“I’m only saying she should be careful of people who are, well, unconventional.”
“I appreciate the advice, thank you.” Evelyn tried to sound sincere and took a large gulp of the remains of her cocktail.
“I think,” Lilian interrupted, “it’s probably high time we retreated to the house and to our beds. What say you all?”
“I think that’s a top-hole idea. The night is young, of course, but I am rather tired.” Dorothy seemed no less alert than she had at the beginning of the evening.
“Yes, agreed. Drink up, Evelyn,” James urged.
Evelyn drained the remainder of her cocktail, undecided if she was pleased to be leaving the cafe or not. It had been an evening of discovery, and she hoped, before she had to leave London, there would be much more of that.
Chapter Seven
Jos Singleton spent a sleepless night, remarkable since she’d not even been drinking. Perhaps that was the problem, she reflected, as she sat in her winged armchair, contemplating the darkness. Maybe she’d become a little too reliant on scotch as a means to induce slumber.
Sleep had been difficult for her over the years. She supposed it was ever since her parents had been killed, peacefully asleep in their beds when the Zeppelin raid had demolished their house. Looking back on those last moments, cowering under the kitchen table, she still wondered if there was something she could have done. If only she’d not taken cover, if she’d gone upstairs and warned them. But she had assumed they were still out of the house, not already in their bed. The bomb hit their house directly, crashing through the roof. She’d been told it was a miracle she had survived herself.
She remembered regaining consciousness in a pile of rubble, hands pulling bricks and roof tiles and the remnants of the table from her wounded body. She remembered Vernon’s face, the first thing she saw, peering at her full of anxiety and fear. She’d smiled to reassure him, before she had even begun to become aware of what had happened and the great loss they had both suffered. She’d always felt compelled to look after Vernon, even if they were the same age and even when their parents were still alive. He’d still been at his office when the bombs fell, or she might have lost everything that night. That Vernon was still alive seemed more important than the pain that racked her body.
Jos had not thought to ask about their parents right away. She was pulled from the rubble and carried on a stretcher to the nearest hospital. Her right leg was broken in two places, she had three fractured ribs, a broken left wrist and collarbone, and bruises to her head and face, but as she was told, she’d got away lightly considering the total destruction of their house. Only when she was properly settled in the hospital bed did they allow Vernon to visit her. And only then did she realise that their parents were not there to visit, nor had anyone mentioned them. She did not have to vocalise the question—she read the answer in Vernon’s eyes. Their parents had died as she sheltered from the bombs.
Vernon said it wasn’t her fault. That she would not have had time to go upstairs and wake her parents, even if she had known they were in their bed. If she
