The Life That I Have

Chapter 33

Anya was woken by a loud siren. An air-raid siren. She needed to get down to the tube station quickly. Putting on her old trench coat over her flimsy nightdress, she hurried down the hall and into the street. It was pitch black, and several times tripped over unknown items. The only light was the glow of distant fires, burning in the horizon.

  Soon, she reached the underground, inside which was warm and brightly lit, causing Anya to squint for a minute.

  It was incredibly crowded, and Anya was beginning to panic. It was the first time she had ever been in an air raid. What if a bomb dropped nearby and they were trapped in this terrible tube station? Suddenly, she felt very alone. It was like the old poem 'Water, water, everywhere but not a drop to drink.'  People, people, everywhere, but not a friend for me.

  Soon, she was proved wrong. A motherly middle-aged woman with her hair in rollers came over to Anya.

  "You alright, luv? You look lost."     

  Anya looked at her gratefully.

  "I'm not really sure what I should do. I'm new to this area, you see."   

  "Oh, well, don't worry about that, I'll look after you!" the woman bubbled as she led Anya over to a small camping stool.

  "Honestly, won't Jerry leave us in peace?" she moaned as the first whistle of a bomb squealed through the station. There was a pause, then a deafening explosion. Anya never experienced bombs before, gripped so tight onto the side of her chair, her knuckles went white. The lady, noticing this, breezily changed the subject.

  "When's your little one due, then?"

  "Uh, in the next few days," Anya said vaguely, nervously looking up at the ceiling.

  "You know, you should be certain. When I had my Albert–" the woman stopped suddenly. "You married then?"

  "Engaged," Anya said quickly.

  "He's in the RAF?"

  "Yes, in the RAF," Anya lied again.

  "Ah, brave boys, them's in the air force. But I suppose they all are, aren't they?" There was a pause. "Oh, I Evie, by the way. Evie Rice. Here's me wittering on without having introduced myself!"

  "Anya Devlin." They shook hands.

  Another bomb dropped, and Anya gasped sharply.

  "You alright?" Evie asked, without looking up from her knitting.

  "The baby!" Anya cried, clutching her stomach. "The baby!"

Marilyne felt sick as she sat alone in her room. What had she done? She could be shot as a traitor, and serves her right. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. How could she go on like this?

  She felt a small squeeze on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Rudi, looking tired and thin, standing above her.

  "I came to thank you. I couldn't be free now if it wasn't for you."

  Marilyne chocked. The last thing in the world she wanted was to be thanked.

  "Please leave me alone," she tried to say cooly, but came out more as a whisper.

  "You know, I probably would have done the same in your position. Gilles too," Rudi said gently.

  "You would have shot me?" Marilyne said, brightening a little. When there was no reply, she asked: "What was it you wanted?"

  Rudi shuffled on his feet a little.

  "I was wondering how Anya was before she left."

  Marilyne smiled.

  "Well, she definitely didn't want to go."