And if Vivien could do it, so would Dolly She’d suffered so much, but she still had things to live for—she’d find things to live for. This was the time to be brave, to be better than she’d ever been before. Dolly had done things that made her ashamed to remember them; her grand ideas had been nothing but a young girl’s silly dreams, they’d all turned to ash in her fingers; but everybody deserved a second chance, everybody was worthy of forgiveness, even her—Vivien said so. ‘I will,’ she said, as a series of bombs landed with heavy crashes, ‘I’ll do it.’
The light bulb flickered but didn’t die. It swung on its cord, throwing shadows across the walls, and Dolly pulled out her little suitcase. She ignored the deafening noise outside, the smoke that was seeping in from the fires in the street, the haze that made her eyes sting.
There wasn’t much she wanted to take. She’d never had many possessions of her own. The only thing she really wanted from this room she couldn’t have. Dolly hesitated as she thought of leaving Vivien behind; she remembered what the other woman had written in Peter Pan—a true friend is a light in the dark—and tears threatened again.
But there was no choice; she had to go. The future stretched ahead: a second chance, a new life. All she had to do was take it, and never look back. Go to the seaside, like they’d planned, and start again.
She barely heard the planes outside now, the falling bombs, the ack- acks firing their response. The earth trembled with each blast and plaster dust sifted down from the ceiling. The chain on the door rattled, but Dolly noticed none of it. Her case was packed—she was ready to go.
She stood, looking to Vivien, and despite her firm resolve she faltered. ‘What about you?’ Dolly said, and for a split second it occurred to her that perhaps they could go together, that maybe Vivien would come with her after all. In some odd way, it seemed the perfect answer, the only thing to do—they’d each played their part, and none of it would have happened if Dolly and Vivien hadn’t met.
It was a foolish thought, of course—Vivien didn’t need a second chance. She had everything she could want right here. A lovely house, her own wealth, beauty to spare … Sure enough, Vivien handed Dolly Mrs Nicolson’s job offer and smiled a tearful farewell. Each woman knew in her heart it was the last time she’d see the other. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Vivien, as a bomber thundered overhead. ‘I’m going to be fine. I’m going home.’
Dolly held the letter tightly, and with a final nod of resolution, started towards her new life, no idea what the future might bring, but determined, suddenly, to meet it.
Four
Suffolk, 2011
THE NICOLSON SISTERS left the hospital in Iris’s car. Although she was eldest and traditionally favoured with front-seat privileges, Laurel sat in the back with the dog hairs. Her seniority was complicated by her celebrity and it didn’t do to let the others think she was getting above herself. She preferred the back anyway. Absolved from conversational duties she was free to keep company with her own thoughts.
The rain had cleared and the sun was shining now. Laurel was itching to ask Rose about Vivien—she’d heard the name before, she was sure of it. More than that, she knew it was connected in some way to that awful day in 1961—but she kept quiet. Iris’s interest, once piqued, could be suffocating and Laurel wasn’t ready yet to face the inquisition. While her sisters made small talk in the front, she watched the fields skim by. The windows were up but she could almost smell the fresh- cut grass and hear the jackdaw’s call. The landscape of one’s childhood was more vibrant than any other. It didn’t matter where it was or what it looked like, the sights and sounds imprinted differently. They became part of a person, inescapable.
The past fifty years evaporated and Laurel saw a ghosted version of herself flying alongside the hedgerows on her green Malvern Star, one of her sisters straddling the handlebars. Sun-browned skin, blonde leg hairs, scabbed knees. It was a long time ago. It was yesterday ‘Is it for television?’
Laurel looked up to find Iris blinking at her in the rearview mirror. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said.
‘The interview, the one that’s been keeping you so busy.’
‘Oh, that. It’s a series of