about them before you take the job. Have you considered sending them away?’
Julia fixed her gaze on a spot on the carpet in front of her and felt a familiar twinge of guilt. So many parents were sending their children to the country to live where it would be safer if the cities were attacked. She hadn’t had the heart to send her own children away before John left. She knew she was doing nothing but putting it off. What if the Germans never attacked in this phoney war, as it was being labelled, and she sent her children away for no good reason?
The memory of Maggie’s tear-stained face and Tom’s pale, quivering lip from that morning swam into her thoughts. Could she deal them another blow? Putting them on a train to God knows where without her?
Mrs Hathaway seemed to sense her predicament. She leaned forward and did something very uncharacteristic for this woman who always seemed to be so aloof; she placed her hand over Julia’s. ‘I know it’s hard, my dear. I had to send my three off last week, but it really is for the best. Not just for them, but for the country. Do you have relatives somewhere that would take them in?’
Julia looked up. ‘I do have an aunt that lives in the Cotswolds. She wrote to me last week saying she had plenty of room and if I wanted to send the children, they would be well looked after there, but I hadn’t got the heart to send them. Particularly as their father was going to war today.’
Mrs Hathaway sat back and drew in a thoughtful breath. ‘That is understandable, but it may only be a matter of time before it becomes mandatory, my dear. Particularly if Herr Hitler starts getting closer to the city with his bombs. And God forbid if he makes it onto British soil. Would you rather your children be in London with the Nazis or maybe out in the country where they might have more of a chance? It would be less adjustment for them if you sent them now. Let them get established somewhere, in case things do turn badly.’
Julia wrung her hands. This all made total sense, but she’d been dreading it even though the children had started to complain that their classrooms had pretty much emptied around them overnight.
‘Why don’t you take some time to think about it?’ continued her supervisor. ‘Mr Churchill doesn’t need you till next week. That will give you a few days to decide and get the children organized. I must encourage you to think now though, dear. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come along every day. And there would be a substantial pay rise. It would be a fine feather in your cap, and you may end up sending the children away anyway.’
Julia acknowledged that and then rose and strode to the door. ‘Thank you, Mrs Hathaway, I appreciate this opportunity,’ she affirmed, gratefully. As she wandered back down to the typing pool, she wished more than anything that John was here to talk to about this, or that she had a sister, or a close friend. She had lost both her mother and father years before, and she was an only child. There was really just her husband, who had been a next-door neighbour of hers, and they’d grown up together. He was like a brother as well as a partner. She did have her mother-in-law, Agnes, but she was such a worrier and she’d become incredibly upset about this war, about her son going away. Agnes wasn’t someone that Julia could talk to. Now she wished she and John hadn’t kept themselves to themselves so much. Now she was all alone to make this very difficult decision.
She ambled back to her desk, where she sat trying to decide what to do until the other typists joined her after lunch. When she shared the news with them, they were all excited for her. ‘Of course you’ve got to take it,’ said one of them. ‘This is an incredible opportunity.’ Julia was conflicted, still feeling the turmoil of letting her children go.
She spent the rest of the day distracted, thinking of all the pros and cons, but really there was no decision to make. She had to take it. All of this made sense. But her stomach twisted into knots when she thought about her children. They were all the family she had here now. If she sent them away,