The neighbor, Mrs. Owens, came in then and said the Browns had been bombed out. “Was anyone hurt?” Mrs. Willett asked.
“Only Mrs. Brown’s littlest, Emily. She was a bit cut up, but the house is a complete ruin,” she said, and Eileen shivered, remembering that irresponsible trip back to the house.
“You’ve caught a chill,” Mrs. Willett said to her. “You must lie down. What a time of it you’ve had, your first night in London. You must stay and make up the sleep you lost.”
“I can’t. I must take Alf and Binnie to their mother and then go find my cousin,” Eileen said. So I won’t have to spend another night in that Anderson. Or this century.
“Of course,” Mrs. Willett said. “But you must at least stay to breakfast, and if you don’t find your cousin immediately, you must come back and stay with us. And if there’s anything either of us can do to help—”
“If I could give this as an address where I can be reached, in case I need to leave my cousin a message—”
“Of course. And I’m certain Mrs. Owens would let you give her telephone as a number where you can be reached.”
Eileen thanked her, though she hoped she wouldn’t need either, or the offer to “stay as long as you like,” which she extended again as Eileen left. “I want to go with Eileen,” Theodore said.
“Come along, Alf, Binnie,” Eileen said, anxious to be gone before Theodore asked her if she was coming back. “Let’s go find your mother.”
“She won’t be there,” Alf predicted.
She wasn’t, and the person who answered Eileen’s knock this time—a worn-out-looking woman with a squalling infant in her arms and two toddlers hanging on her skirts—wouldn’t even open the door all the way. When Eileen asked if Alf and Binnie could stay with her, she shook her head. “Not after what they done to my Mickey.”
“Well, do you know when—?” Eileen began, but the woman had already shut the door and locked it. I am never going to get rid of these children. They’re going to be attached to me forever.
“What now?” Alf asked.
I have no idea, she thought, standing irresolutely on the pavement. She needed to find Polly. But even if she found her, she couldn’t go through the drop till she’d disposed of Alf and Binnie.
But she could at least locate Polly and find out where the drop was and then, when Mrs. Hodbin finally made it home, she could go straight to it. “Come along,” she said. “We’re going shopping.”
“With all this lot?” Binnie asked, holding up their bags.
She was right. They could scarcely walk into a department store like this. “We’ll ask her if you can at least leave your things here,” she said, starting up to the door.
“No! They’ll pinch our stuff,” Binnie said.
“I know a place,” Alf said. He grabbed the bags, tore off up the street with them to the bombed house, clambered up onto the rubble, and behind a still-standing wall. He reappeared immediately, without their luggage, and jumped down off the rubble to the pavement. “Where are we goin’ shoppin’?” he asked.
“Oxford Street,” she said. “Do you know how to get there?”
They did, and she was almost glad they were along to navigate the tube station and find the right platform and get off at the right stop. They weren’t in the least intimidated by the size of Oxford Circus station or its network of tunnels and two-story-long escalators, or by the masses of people. Had people actually slept here during the raids? How did they manage to keep from being trampled?
The pavement outside was just as crowded as the tube station had been, with automobiles and taxis and enormous double-decker buses roaring past. I’m glad I only had to drive on country lanes, Eileen thought, standing on the corner, looking in vain for the stores Polly’d named. There were scores of shops and department stores in this block alone, and the line of them stretched as far as she could see in both directions. Thank goodness she knew which three Polly might be working in. If she could find them. She scanned the names above the doors—Goldsmiths, Frith and Co., Leighton’s—
“What’re you lookin’ for?” Alf asked.
“John Lewis,” she said, and then, so they wouldn’t think that was a person, “It’s a department store.”
“We know,” Binnie said. “It’s this way,” and dragged Eileen down the street.
They passed department store after department store—Bourne