a woman on her way to the loo, murmuring “Sorry… sorry… sorry,” and then a guard saying sharply, “Put that cigarette out. No smoking allowed in the shelter due to the fire danger.” The idea that the authorities were concerned about fire when half of London was on fire above them struck her as extremely funny, and she laughed to herself and fell asleep.
This time it was the guard shouting “All clear!” that woke her. She put on her coat, yawning, and went down to the Central Line to catch the first westbound train, only to be met by a notice board: “No train service between Queensway and Shepherd’s Bush.” That included Notting Hill Gate, which ruled out any chance of getting to the drop before work. She would have to buy a skirt at Townsend Brothers before the store opened.
But the train took half an hour to arrive and then promptly stopped between stations. Twice. She scarcely had time to reach the store and wash her face and comb her hair in the employee loo before the opening bell. Her blouse was wrinkled and the back had a brown streak between the shoulder blades from where she’d sat against the wall. She brushed at it awkwardly, tucked the blouse in, and went out to the floor, praying Nan wasn’t back.
She apparently was. Miss Snelgrove came over to Polly’s counter immediately, her lips pursed in disapproval, and said, “I believe I told you on being hired that Townsend Brothers’ shopgirls wear black skirts and neat, clean white blouses.”
“Yes, ma’am, you did,” Polly said. “I’m dreadfully sorry, but I’ve been unable to get home these past two nights because of the raids. I spent both nights in a shelter.”
“I will let it go today,” Miss Snelgrove said. “I realize the current situation has created certain… complications. However, it is our job to overcome them. Townsend Brothers cannot allow its standards to drop, no matter what the circumstances.”
Polly nodded. “I’ll have it by tomorrow, I promise.”
“See that you do.”
“Old bat,” Marjorie whispered to Polly as soon as she was gone. “Have you got money enough for a skirt? If you haven’t, I could loan you a bit.”
“Thanks, I can manage it,” Polly said.
“I’ll cover your counter if you want to leave early so you can buy it before the shops close.”
“Would you?” Polly said gratefully. “But won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll tell Miss Snelgrove Mrs. Tidwell asked if we have the Dainty Debutante girdle in extra large. Looking for it will keep her in the workroom till well after closing.”
“But what if she finds it?”
“She won’t. We only had one, and I’ve already sent it out to Mrs. Tidwell.”
Marjorie was as good as her word, and Polly was able to leave half an hour early, which was wonderful since she’d decided the only way to ensure her making it to the drop was to walk. She couldn’t risk being caught underground again, and a bus would have to pull over and stop if the sirens went. The raids weren’t till nearly nine tonight, but after last night she wasn’t taking any chances.
I hope it isn’t raining, she thought.
It wasn’t, but as she walked toward Marble Arch, fog began drifting in, and by the time she turned off Bayswater, it was even thicker than it had been the night she came through. She could only see a few houses’ distance, and as she approached Lampden Road, ghostly outlines of its buildings. The fog made them look unfamiliar, at once far off and looming.
They were unfamiliar. She must have turned a street too soon, for these weren’t the buildings that lined Lampden Road—the chemist’s with its bow windows and the row of shops. They were warehouses of some kind, windowless brick edifices with a single half-timbered house wedged in among them.
She walked toward them, looking for a familiar landmark, the curve of the road, or, if the fog was too thick for that, the spire of St. George’s. The fog had completely distorted distances. The warehouses still looked far away, even though she was nearly to the corner. And she should be able to see the spire from here. Could she have somehow got turned around? The street ahead couldn’t be Lampden Road. It was much too broad—
She reached the corner and stopped, staring across the road. She had been right about the buildings being too far away. She was looking at the ones that faced the next street over. The entire row of