very place Ma had lived during the war, in a house on Campden Grove. But who had sent her a thank-you card over a decade later, and why?
Thirty
London, May 23rd, 1941
VIVIEN GLANCED at her wristwatch, the cafe door, and finally the street outside. Jimmy had said two, but it was almost half past and there was still no sign of him. He might have run into trouble at work, or maybe with his dad, but Vivien didn’t think so. His message had been urgent—he needed to see her—and he’d delivered it by such cryptic methods; Vivien couldn’t believe he’d have let himself get caught up. She bit her bottom lip and checked her watch again. Her gaze shifted to the full cup of tea she’d poured half an hour ago, the chip on the saucer’s rim, the dried tea in the dip of the spoon. She glimpsed outside the window again, saw no one she knew, and then tilted her hat to hide her face.
His message had been a surprise, a wonderful, terrible heart- pounding surprise. Vivien had truly believed when she gave Jimmy the cheque that she wouldn’t see him again. It hadn’t been a trick, a way to bluff him into making fevered contact; Vivien valued his life, if not her own, too much for that. Her intention had been the opposite. After hearing Dr Rufus’s story, after realising the repercussions—for all of them—should Henry learn of the friendship she’d formed with Jimmy, the work she’d been doing at Dr Tomalin’s hospital, it had seemed the only way. The perfect way, in fact. It delivered money to Dolly, and the sort of insult to Jimmy that would most offend a man like him, an honourable man, a kind one, and that way be sufficient to keep him away—to keep him safe—forever. She’d been reckless in letting him get so close; she ought to have known better; Vivien had brought this whole situation on herself.
In some way, giving the cheque to Jimmy had also delivered to Vivien what she most wanted in the world. She smiled now, just a little, thinking of it. Her love for Jimmy was selfless: not because she was a good person but because it had to be. Henry would never ever allow them to be anything to one another, and so she let her love take the form of wanting for Jimmy the best life he could have, even if she couldn’t be a part of it. Jim-my and Dolly were free now to do everything he’d always dreamed of: to leave London, to be married, to live happily ever after. And by giving away money Henry guarded so jealously, Vivien was striking at him, too, in the only way she could. He would find out, of course. The strict rules of her inheritance weren’t easily circumvented, but Vivien had no great interest in money and what it could buy—she signed over whatever amount Henry demanded and needed very little for herself. Nonetheless, he made it his business to know precisely what was spent and where; she would pay a hefty price, just as she had over the donation to Dr Tomalin’s hospital, but it would be worth it. Oh, yes, it pleased her greatly to know the money he craved so dearly, would go elsewhere.
Which wasn’t to say telling Jimmy goodbye hadn’t been one of the most agonising things Vivien had ever done, because it had been. Faced with seeing him now, the joy that pulsed beneath her skin when she pictured him arriving through that door, the fall of dark hair over his eyes, the smile that suggested secret things, that made her feel under- stood—recognised, before he said a single word—she couldn’t believe she’d found the strength to go through with it.
Now, in the cafe, she looked up as one of the waitresses arrived at the edge of her table and asked if she’d like to order food; Vivien told her no, that she was fine with tea at the moment. It occurred to her that Jimmy might’ve come and gone al-ready, that perhaps she’d just missed him—Henry had been unusually tense over the past few days, it hadn’t been easy getting away—but when she asked the waitress, the girl shook her head. ‘I know the fellow you’re talking about,’ she said. ‘Handsome man with the camera.’ Vivien nodded. ‘Haven’t seen him in a couple of days—sorry.’
The waitress left and Vivien watched out the window again, checking up and down the