The Kingdom of Night (Book 3)

Twenty-Three - The Hard Fall

Emma

Days after the Allied landing, our own private world was thrown into chaos again. In an attempt to maintain some normalcy, Mum, Grandmama and I were at tea when the telephone rang. Mum rose to answer, just as a hammering came on the front door. It was my turn, as I heard the click of the telephone being picked up. I beat our butler to the door by seconds, and none other than Hannah Ziegler came hurtling into my arms.

     'Hannah?' I said, bewildered, as she buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing noiselessly. 'What's...what's the matter? What's happened?'

     She shook her head, her hands fisting tightly in my jumper.

     'Emmy, that was Grace, she just...' Mum's voice came from behind, but stopped when she saw us.

     'I know, Mum,' I said, having the awful feeling Auntie Grace had rang to tell us of Hannah's coming.

     Mum's expression turned grave, and she said nothing in reply. She only turned and disappeared into the sitting room, and a moment later I heard her saying something unintelligible to Grandmama. Hannah held onto me tighter, her body trembling with sobs that made no noise.

     'Hannah,' I said quietly, giving her one final hug before disentangling myself from her, my alarm flaring instantly the second I saw her face, red and blotchy and streaked with tears. 'What's happened?'

     'I'll tell you,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as she wiped her streaming eyes. 'If you give me a moment.'

     'Of course. Certainly.' I took her hand in both of mine, squeezing it gently. 'But you must come sit down. It looks as though you might faint.'

     Slowly, she nodded. I guided her into the sitting room, and the air changed, taking on a weight that hadn't been there before. Mum half-rose from where she knelt next to Grandmama. Despite the sadness in her eyes, I saw my grandmother lay a hand tightly over Mum's, arresting her movement. Something must have told her there'd been another tragedy, greater than any we'd faced since the war began.

     Hannah sank down on the sofa, her fingers knotted together and her eyes fixed on the floor. I took the spot next to her, gingerly laying a hand on her shoulder. She tensed when I did, but didn't pull away.

     'Hannah, love, what's happened?' Mum asked this time, her voice hoarse. 'Grace said...'

     'It's...' she began, but her voice cracked, even as she struggled to keep it under control. 'It's about George...he...'

     That was when she truly broke down again, covering her face and choking out ragged sobs. I pulled her into my arms and let her bury her face in my shoulder, her hands once again latching onto my jumper as if I was the only solid thing in sight. And if the news had anything to do with George, I had a feeling that was true.

     'The War Office...they'd located George...' she said finally, when she'd caught her breath enough to speak.

     Mum exhaled, relief crossing her face. 'Finally. Those twonks are actually good for something.'

     'No...it's...' Hannah's fists clenched, and her eyes were swimming with tears again. She swallowed hard. 'He was being kept in a transit POW camp...and...en route to a more permanent one...the train exploded. They...they can't explain why it happened...but...they think he died in the blast...'

     A heavy leaden weight dropped into my stomach at those words, and almost involuntarily I released Hannah and sat back. Mum didn't miss a beat. She rushed over and caught Hannah just as she dissolved into tears again, clinging to her for dear life.