“Shh.” He put his finger to his lips. Polly listened. There was a faint clanking from below them.
“She’s coming back,” Michael said. He released her wrist and motioned for her to go up the stairs, and she ran up them on tiptoe, trying not to make any noise. And to make sense of what he’d said. Had he seen something which didn’t match what he’d read about the Blitz? Or the evacuation of Dunkirk?
Could he think that his having been at Dunkirk had altered history, and that was why their drops wouldn’t open? But it was impossible, and if he weren’t so unnerved over all the bad news he’d had tonight, he’d realize how ridiculous a theory like that was.
And what about you? she thought. Is that why you’re imagining the worst, too? Because, as Miss Snelgrove would say, you’ve had a bad shock? Perhaps the situation’s not as bad as you think.
Or perhaps it was worse. She had to talk to Merope. Alone. But how? Send Michael on some errand? He’d already scolded her for going off without them.
She went up as far as the next landing with a door and opened it a tiny crack to peer out. A row of toddlers lay wrapped like cocoons in blankets in front of the door. Good, no one could get in that way.
She ran up two more flights, peered up into the long darkness above, then ran back down to where Merope and Michael were sitting. “All clear,” she said, sitting down on the step beside them. “Was there anyone down below, Merope?”
“No. Now, Michael, I want to hear—”
“Not Michael. And not Merope. You’re Eileen O’Reilly and I’m Mike Davis, and you’re Polly—what last name are you using?”
“Sebastian.”
“Sebastian,” he repeated. “I wish I’d known that. I’d have been able to find you a lot sooner. You’re Polly Sebastian, and those are our names for as long as we’re here. Even when we’re alone. Understood? We can’t afford to have somebody overhear us calling each other by some other name.”
Merope nodded. “Yes, Michael—I mean, Mike.”
“Good,” he said. “Now, the first thing we have to do—”
“—is get something to eat,” Polly said. “I haven’t had any supper. Have either of you?”
“I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Merope—correction, Eileen—said. “I spent my entire lunch break waiting on Mrs. Sadler and that wretched son of hers. I’m starving!”
“Can’t this wait, Polly?” Michael—Mike said.
“No, I don’t know how long the canteen stays open.”
“Okay, but we shouldn’t all go. One of us needs to stay here. Polly, you hold down the fort, and Eileen and I’ll go,” and before she could think of a reason she needed to be the one to accompany Eileen, they’d started down the stairs.
“Oh, I just thought of something,” she heard Eileen say below. “I haven’t any money.”
And now you haven’t got a job either, Polly thought. She wondered if Mike had one. Probably not—he’d just got out of hospital. How are we going to live? she wondered.
Below her she heard the door shut and, after a moment, the clank of feet on the stairs. Was it the children who’d used this stairway before? Or a guard? she thought, remembering the No Admittance notice.
It was Mike. “I told Eileen I wasn’t sure I had enough money. I gave her two shillings and told her to go get in line, and I’d be there in a minute.”
“Oh.” Polly reached for her bag.
He stopped her. “It was just an excuse so we could finish our conversation. You didn’t answer my question before. Has anything been hit that wasn’t supposed to be?”
“No. Mike—”
“What about something that was supposed to be hit that wasn’t?” he persisted. “Or some night when there were supposed to be raids and there weren’t?”
“There were raids every night till November,” Polly said, “and they’ve all been on schedule. Is this because you were at Dunkirk?”
“I wasn’t just there. I did something that may have altered events.”
“But you know as well as I do that we can’t do that. The time travel laws won’t let us.”
“The time travel laws don’t let historians anywhere near a divergence point either, but I was right there in the middle of one.”
“And you think that’s why our drops won’t open? But that’s impossible. If your being there would have changed things, the net would have kept you from getting there.”
“That’s just it. It sent me through thirty miles from where I was supposed to be