not flung free of it. They must have been standing at the windows looking out when the bomb hit, but no Londoner in his right mind would do that. And where was the rescue squad? They’d clearly been here. They’d put up rope around the incident. And gone off again?
They wouldn’t just leave them lying there, she thought, kneeling beside a woman. Not even if they were all dead, which they clearly were. The woman’s arm, still in its coat sleeve, had been blown off. It lay, bent stiffly at the elbow—
Polly sat back on her heels. “Eileen! Come back!” she called. “Mike! It’s all right. They’re mannequins. They must have been blown out of the display windows.”
“You, there!” a deep voice called from beyond the rope. “What are you doing?”
Good Lord, it’s that same ARP warden who caught me going to my drop, Polly thought a little wildly, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even a man. It was a woman wearing ARP coveralls.
“Come out of there at once!” she said.”Looting’s a punishable offense.”
“We weren’t looting,” Polly said, putting the arm down and standing up. “We thought the mannequins were bodies. We were trying to help.” She pointed at Eileen, who’d come running back. “She works here. She was afraid it might be someone she knew.”
The warden turned to Eileen. “You work at Padgett’s?”
“Yes, I’m Eileen O’Reilly. I work on the fifth floor. In Children’s Wear.”
“Have you reported in?”
Eileen looked at the gaping hole where Padgett’s had been. “Reported in?”
“Round there,” the warden said, leading them on to the corner and pointing down the side street, where Polly could see a blue incident light and people moving about. “Mr. Fetters,” the warden called.
“Wait,” Mike said. “Were there any casualties?”
“We don’t know yet. Come along, Miss O’Reilly,” she said and led Eileen over to Mr. Fetters, who’d apparently come here straight from bed. He was wearing pajamas under his coat, and his gray hair was uncombed, but he sounded brisk and efficient. “I need to know your name, floor, and department,” he said.
Eileen told him. “I was transferred up from Notions last week,” she said.
Which explained why she hadn’t been on third.
“Oh, excellent,” Mr. Fetters said. “You were one of the ones we were worried about. Someone said they thought you might still have been in the building.” He checked off her name, and then turned expectantly to Polly. “And you are—?”
“I’m—we’re friends of Miss O’Reilly’s. Neither of us works at Padgett’s.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” he said with dignity in spite of the pajamas, and turned back to Eileen. “Who was still on your floor when you left?”
“No one. I was the last one out.”
Literally, Polly thought.
“Miss Haskins and Miss Peterson both left before I did. Miss Haskins had asked me to switch off the lights.”
“Did you see anyone on your way out? Do you know if Miss Miles or Miss Rainsford had gone?”
And there are two of the three casualties, Polly thought.
“Are they unaccounted for?” Eileen asked.
“We haven’t been able to locate them as yet. I’m certain they’re in a shelter and perfectly all right.” He smiled reassuringly. “You need to go see Miss Varden,” he pointed at her, “and give her your address and telephone number so we can contact you when we’re ready to reopen.”
Eileen nodded.
“Wait,” Mike said to her, “what floors did Miss Miles and Miss Rainsford work on?”
“They were both on fifth,” Eileen said. “I do hope they’re all right,” and went off with Mr. Fetters.
The moment she was gone, Mike said accusingly, “You said there were supposed to be three fatalities.”
“There will be,” Polly said. “They’ve only been searching a few hours. They’ll find—”
“Find who?” he said. “You heard Eileen. Those two women worked on fifth. We were on fifth. There was no one there.”
“I know,” Polly whispered, drawing him back around the corner, out of sight and earshot of the others, “but that doesn’t mean they weren’t in the store. They might have gone down to the basement to the shelter—”
He wasn’t listening. “There are only two,” he said in that driven voice. “There were supposed to be three.”
“There may have been someone in the offices. Or it may have been a charwoman. Or the guard who chased us. Just because they haven’t found all the casualties yet doesn’t mean there weren’t any. It was sometimes weeks before all the bodies at an incident were found, and you saw that pit. This doesn’t prove your being at Dunkirk affected—”