pity. The moment she opened the front door at Mrs. Rickett’s her nostrils were assailed by an unpleasant odor. “It’s kidney stew tonight,” Miss Laburnum said and dropped her voice. “I never thought I’d be eager to hear the sound of approaching bombers.” She leaned past Polly to look out the door at the sky. “Do you think there’s a chance they’ll be early tonight?”
Unfortunately, no, Polly thought, but as she started up the stairs to take off her coat and hat, the sirens went. “Oh, good,” Miss Laburnum said. “Let me get my things and we’ll walk over together. I’ll tell you all about Sir Godfrey on the way.”
“No… I…” Polly stammered, bewildered that the sirens had gone so early. “I… There are some things I must do before I go. I need to wash out my stockings and—”
“Oh, no, I won’t hear of it,” Miss Laburnum said. “It’s far too dangerous. I read in the Standard about a woman who stayed behind to put out the cat and was killed.”
“But I’ll only be a few minutes. I’ll come as soon as—”
“Even a single minute can make all the difference, isn’t that right?” Miss Laburnum said to Miss Hibbard as she hurried down the stairs, stuffing her knitting into her bag.
“Oh, my, yes.”
“But Mr. Dorming isn’t here,” Polly said. “You two go on ahead, and I’ll fetch him—”
“He’s already gone,” Miss Hibbard said. “He left the moment he heard what supper was. Come along,” and there was nothing for it but to go with them. She would have to wait till they reached St. George’s and then say she’d forgot something and needed to go back. If the raids hadn’t begun by then.
How could she have got the time wrong? she wondered, half listening to Miss Laburnum prattle on about how wonderful Sir Godfrey was, “Though actually I prefer Barrie’s plays to Shakespeare’s, so much more refined.” The raids had begun at 8:45 on the eighteenth. But Hyde Park’s siren was going, too, and as they crossed the street, Kensington Gardens’ started up. Colin must have mixed the dates.
They were nearly to the church. “Oh, dear,” Polly said. “I forgot my cardigan. I must go back.”
“I have a shawl you can borrow,” Miss Hibbard said, and before Polly could think of a response, Lila and Viv had come running up to tell her about John Lewis having been hit.
“Thank goodness I only found out about that job yesterday,” Lila said breathlessly. “I’d never have forgiven myself if you’d got it and been working there when it was hit.”
“Oh, dear,” Miss Hibbard said, “I believe I hear planes,” and hustled them all down the steps and into the shelter.
Polly debated making a break for it, but she would never make it. Mrs. Brightford, the little girls, Mr. Simms, and his dog were all coming down the stairs, followed by the rector, who did a quick head count and bolted the door.
And now what was she supposed to do about a black skirt? And learning to wrap? She might be able to tell Miss Snelgrove she’d been caught by the sirens and hadn’t been able to go home—which is true, she thought wryly—but what excuse could she give for producing such mangled packages? I’ll simply have to practice here, she thought, checking her pocket to make certain she still had the length of string. She did. When Sir Godfrey offered her his Times (with no trace of the magnificence of the night before—he’d reverted completely to his role of elderly gentleman) she took it, and after everyone had gone to sleep—the bombing hadn’t started till 8:47 after all, in spite of the sirens—she tiptoed over to the bookcase for a hymnal and attempted to wrap it in a sheet of the newspaper.
It was much easier to fold than the store’s heavy brown paper, and she didn’t have the pressure of a customer—or Miss Snelgrove—watching her, but she still made a botch of it. She tried again, holding the folded end against her middle to keep it from lapping open as she wrapped the string. That worked better, but the newsprint left a long black streak on her blouse.
“I expect neatness in your appearance,” Miss Snelgrove had said, which meant she’d have to wash out her blouse and iron it dry after the all clear. The raids were supposed to be over by four, but as she’d learned tonight, that didn’t mean the all clear would sound then.