Beyond the Shadow of War (22 page)

“And fancy if you aren’t a pretty little thing. Pleased to meet you, Anya.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Well then, with that accent you’re obviously not a Brit like us. Where do you call home?”

“I’m from The Netherlands. Utrecht.”

Gigi grimaced as she pulled up a chair and joined them, asking about Anya and her American husband. Anya couldn’t help envying Gigi’s confidence and bubbly personality. Her natural beauty most likely made her quite popular with the Americans.

“And you’re living here in London now?” she asked, snatching one of the fries.

“No, not yet. I’m staying in Framlingham with‌—‌”

“You don’t want to be all the way up in Framlingham when the Yanks finally send us sailing, do you? Which brings me to the reason I was looking for your two friends here today. I’ve found us the
perfect
flat to rent while we wait. It’s in Covent Garden, and it’s available whenever we want it, for however long we need it, and with the four of us sharing the cost, it’s a steal of a deal.”

Kate patted her bulging tummy. “Just tell me the bedrooms are all downstairs. I can’t keep lugging the two of us up and down the stairs, especially when I have to go to the privy in the middle of the night.”

“All downstairs, and four bedrooms, so we’ll each have our own privacy.”

“What do you say, Anya?” Sybil asked. “Now will you come?”

“Yes, just think how much fun we’ll have together!” Kate added.

Gigi grabbed Anya’s hands. “That’s three to one, so how about it, love? Say you’ll come too?”

Anya wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to these English girls with their chummy ways and free spirits. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to move just yet. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Sophie and Charlie and dear Patrick. Even so, all she really wanted was to be with Danny. And if living in London would speed the process, then perhaps it was time to move here. Or at least think about it.

“Would you still have a room for me if I don’t move quite yet?”

“What are you thinking?” Sybil asked.

“Perhaps a few weeks? A month at most?”

Gigi made eye contact with Sybil and Kate, placing her palms down on the table. “What do you say, girls? Shall we save her a room?”

Sybil then Kate slapped their hands on top of Gigi’s.

“Then it’s settled! We’ll all be flatmates!”

24

27 September 1945 

Framlingham, England 

The pub was busier than usual on Thursday night. Weekends were always crowded, but week nights could go either way. Right around dusk, a thunderstorm rumbled into Framlingham, and with it a truckload of British soldiers whose lorry had broken down on the outskirts of town. A rowdy bunch, Anya surmised from the kitchen, as their voices grew louder with each round of pints.

“And aren’t we glad Charlie’s here to lend Da a hand?” Sophie offered as she swung through the kitchen doors. “Reminds me of the good old days when the Americans from the 390th would stuff our little pub and fill it with laughter.”

“That seems a lifetime ago, doesn’t it? To think, it’s only been a few months.” Anya retied the kerchief wrapped around her head. “Shall I warm more bread? We’ve only a few loaves left.”

“Yes, I suppose so. What about the pasties? How many are left?”

“One more tray about ready to come out of the oven.”

“Coming through,” Charlie called with the keg of beer hoisted on his shoulder. “And I thought we Yanks drank a lot. I’m pretty sure these guys could drink us all under the table, as they say.”

“Ah, but think of the muscles you’re building,” Sophie teased. “You’ll be a regular Johnny Weissmuller before you know it.”

“Me Tarzan, you Jane?”

“Out you go, Tarzan. Thirsty patrons are waiting out front.”

Charlie laughed as the swinging doors slapped behind him.

“I remember Danny talking about the Tarzan movies,” Anya said, “but I never saw any of them. They sounded rather silly to me.”

“Oh, that they are. Absolutely ridiculous. More of a fellow’s cuppa, I suppose. Speaking of Danny, I forgot to ask. Any letters today?”

Anya gave the remaining stew a stir. “Yes, actually. The post was later than usual today, but there was a letter Danny had written way back on the fourteenth. I can’t understand why it takes his letters so much longer to get to me than mine to him. It’s really quite frustrating.”

“Better late than never.” Sophie stood at the sink beside her, plunging dishes and steins into the soapy water to wash before rinsing. “Any news? Is he still threatening to commandeer a plane and fly back here to get you?”

Anya kept her focus on the stew. “No, not really.”

Sophie rinsed her hands and dried them on a dish towel. “Not to worry. I bet he thinks about it every day. Wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up in one of those Forts and dipped his wing as he passed over us here.” She tucked a strand of hair back in her snood and glanced over at her friend. “Anya?”

“Yes?” she answered without looking up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Anya bit the inside of her lip. “Nothing you haven’t heard before. Honestly, Sophie, I’m so tired of waiting and whining about it. I can’t help wishing it was all over so I could stop having these stupid thoughts.”

Sophie nudged some wisps of hair off her forehead then folded her arms across her chest. “What is it? What’s got you so upset? Did something in Danny’s letter‌—‌”

“Yes, actually. Something he wrote.” She set the wooden spoon down then stretched out the kinks in her neck. “It’s absurd, of course. I’m just reacting like a silly schoolgirl, but‌—‌”

“Just tell me. What did he say?”

Anya pulled the letter from her trouser pocket and read aloud the section where Danny mentioned seeing his college sweetheart again. Hearing the words out loud made her feel even more childish. She stopped mid-sentence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read this to you.”

Sophie squeezed Anya’s forearm. “Of course you should, and I can see why you might jump to conclusions, Anya. But you have nothing to worry about. Danny
loves
you! Anyone who’s ever seen the two of you together knows that.”

“But that’s just it, don’t you see? We’re
not
together. I’m still here, and he’s back there in Chicago, America with all his family and friends, and now this Beverly person. It’s hard enough to be apart for so long. Now I have to worry about some stupid old girlfriend who’s obviously turning to Danny in her grief. And you know as well as I do that Danny would never just turn his back on someone who’s suffering. He has such a good heart, so who knows what he’ll‌—‌”

“You and I both know what he’ll do. He’ll be a perfect gentleman because that’s who he is. Anya, he’s your husband now. He’s off the market, and for the record, he has been for a long, long time. Look, I know how news like this can intensify the stress you’re already feeling. All these months apart and the sheer distance between you? Why, it’s positively brutal. But the one thing I do know‌—‌because Charlie talks about it all the time‌—‌is that Danny McClain is a good and decent man who is utterly
smitten
with you.

“Oh Anya, I know it’s hard, but you have to trust Danny. So you must promise me you won’t worry about this Beverly person anymore.” She leaned over to look into Anya’s face. “Say it.”

“I’ll try not‌—‌”

“No,
promise
me you won’t worry.”

Anya huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll say it. I won’t worry about this Beverly person.”

“Good. Now that we settled that, we best fill some orders before all those boys come storming back here looking for their food.”

As the evening wore on, they had little time for more conversation. Another lorry of soldiers squeezed into the pub, friends of the first bunch who were clearly more inebriated. Anya worked in the kitchen, while Patrick stayed busy at the bar. Sophie and Charlie took orders and replenished pints.

Later, Patrick pushed his way into the kitchen. “Anya, have you seen my glasses anywhere? I must have laid them down somewhere, and I must confess, I can’t see a thing without them.” He turned to face her, patting his pockets with a sense of urgency.

Anya wiped her hands on a dish towel. “I think I might know where they are.” She smiled as she approached him, then removed the glasses from their usual spot on the top of his head and handed them to him.

“Goodness me, that’s a rummon. I must be losing my marbles!” He dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and started wiping the lenses. “Are you all right, Anya? You look a bit tired, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I’m fine, Patrick. It’s about time to close, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Time for last call.” He stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket, put on his glasses, and headed back through the swinging door.

Anya was grateful for the solitude, preferring not to deal with customers, or even make small talk with Sophie, for that matter. Even though she promised she wouldn’t worry, the familiar pressure on her chest registered another wave of concern.

Yes, she knew she could trust Danny.

Yes, she was glad he was safe, living at home with his family.

Yes, she would surely sail for America in a few weeks and never again be apart from him.

But that didn’t stop the images traipsing through her mind and hovering around her heart. Images of a beautiful college girl who’d once been the love of Danny’s life. Images of that same girl, now a grieving young widow in search of solace, perhaps hoping to find it in the arms of her former sweetheart.

“STOP!” she growled. “Stop it! Stop it, stop it!”

Sophie walked in on Anya’s outburst. “Stop what? Are you all right?”

Anya whipped around. “Yes, I’m fine. Really.”

Sophie lowered a tray of dirty dishes. “You sure about that?”

“I’m just tired, that’s all. Aren’t you?” She grabbed the tray from Sophie and dumped the dishes into the sink of soapy water.

“Yes, terribly. And I’ve had a time of it with those fellas out there tonight. Da should have tossed them out hours ago. But it’s last round now, and they’ll all be gone soon. Let me collect the rest of the empty pints, and I’ll help you with those.”

Charlie came in and out, helping Patrick close the pub for the night. He sent the last of the drunken stragglers on their way, then started wiping down the tables. Sophie and Anya finished the dishes and tidied the kitchen.

“All right then,” Sophie said. “I’ll just take this rubbish out to the alley, then we’ll be done. Go on up to bed, if you like. And thank you for your help tonight. We couldn’t have managed without you.”

“Of course you could.” Anya lifted the apron over her head and hung it on the peg, then poured herself a glass of water to take upstairs. She pulled the scarf off her head and let her hair loose as she took a final look around the kitchen. Noticing the pile she’d left after sweeping the floor, she got the dustpan and brush out of the closet again to finish the task, wondering what her mother would think to see her now. Oh, how they’d fought whenever Mother asked for help cleaning the house. Yet here she was, compelled to leave the kitchen spotless.

As she swept the last specks of dust into the shallow pan, she heard voices coming from the front of the pub. Raised voices. Or were they from back in the alley? She took the loaded dustpan to the back door, thinking she’d dump it out in the alley. That’s when she heard a scream.

Sophie!

Anya threw open the back door as a peal of thunder cracked overhead, and with it a sudden downpour. She cupped a hand over her eyes, trying to see through the rain and darkness.

Another scream. This one cut short by a loud smacking sound. A commotion in the far corner of the alley caught her eye. The dustpan clattered on the gravel as she rushed toward the two people fighting.

“ANYA!”

As she closed in on them, she could see the tall image bent over Sophie pinning her left arm to her body, the other dangling helplessly.

“HEY! Leave her alo‌—‌”

WHACK!

A fist smashed into Anya’s jaw and sent her reeling. She landed hard, sprawled in a heap on the puddled gravel as white stars danced in her eyes.

“ANYA! HEL‌—‌”

WHACK!

Sophie’s cry stopped.

“SHUT UP!” a man’s voice shouted. “Both of you, just SHUT YOUR‌—‌”

Anya pounced on his back, locking her arm in a vise around his throat. He let go of Sophie, dropping her as he straightened. He grabbed at Anya’s arm with both his hands. She clung tighter, but her rain-soaked arm kept sliding off his slippery neck.

“Get OFF ME!” he roared, spinning and bending over in an attempt to throw her off his back.

She held tight, both arms wrapped around his throat as she squeezed as hard as she could. He clawed at her, ripping her blouse, then yanking a handful of hair in a grip so hard, it sent her flying against the stone fence with a howl of pain.

“ANYA! LOOK OUT!” Sophie cried.

As she tried to stand, he was already rushing toward her headfirst. In a split second, she rolled out of his trajectory, causing him to lose his balance, unable to stop. His head smashed into the craggy stone fence. A flash of lightning showed his bloodied face as he spun around groping for her. He reached out just as she ran at him like a runaway locomotive, her head aimed right at his gut. She heard the whoosh of air leave his lungs as he fell to his knees, rocking and reeling as he fought to right himself.

She thought she heard voices calling her name, but she couldn’t stop. Not until the beast was dead. Still rocking on his knees, he was more accessible, so she locked her arm around his neck again. With every ounce of her strength, she jerked it hard one way then the other, the snaps rendering his body limp. He fell forward, landing face first on the gravel.

Charlie reached her as she scrabbled backward away from the brute’s body.

“Anya! Are you all right?” He reached out to steady her, but she jumped back, batting his hand away.

“Anya, honey, it’s me‌—‌Charlie!” He raised his palms to reassure her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She stared at him, then down at the man she’d just killed.

“Charlie!” Patrick said, his voice urgent. “Give me a hand here. It’s Sophie!”

Charlie rushed to his side, bent over Sophie in the dark corner of the alley. Anya heard them talking but couldn’t understand a word because of the pounding inside her head. She covered her ears, trying to stop it; her chest still heaving in search of a breath.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blank the image of the body just inches from her. Opening them, she forced her eyes toward her friends.

Sophie cried out in pain as Charlie lifted her off the ground. “It’s my arm.” She tried to stand on her own, looking up as Anya approached her. “Oh, Anya! Are you all right?”

Anya stared at her friend, her right eye already swollen, her blouse ripped off one shoulder. She couldn’t bear it, the thought of what might have happened. What if she hadn’t stopped to sweep that last pile of dirt in the kitchen? Hadn’t heard Sophie’s cry for help? Hadn’t stopped the beast from‌—‌

She bent over and vomited so hard, she nearly passed out.

A moment later, she did.