Taking six months off from the intensity of her legal career had been her grandmother’s idea.
‘You just need a break, Sophie. Give yourself the chance to catch your breath,’ she’d stated, stroking her granddaughter’s hair.
Gran, of course, had been right. Being a high-flying corporate solicitor had definitely had its perks, but one of them hadn’t been having time to grieve her personal loss. And when she had been found by her secretary sobbing at her desk one morning four months after losing Emily and her mother, it had been a relief to let go and accept that she couldn’t just go on as normal.
At first, she had told herself it would just be a sabbatical, but as time had gone on it had been harder and harder to even contemplate going back to that hectic pace of life. For now, she was working part-time for a small charity that specialised in archiving historical materials. Sophie had always loved visiting old houses. Her job was to categorise all the treasures that went back centuries, some from houses that the charity had been working in for years. There were no time pressures and no client counting on her to be at her best. And even though she didn’t know what the future held, this job was perfect for her, right now.
The lift door slid open and, carefully, without looking in her direction, Sophie sidestepped the young girl even as the presence of her once again tugged at her heartstrings. Swallowing down her pain Sophie moved at a clip towards the event.
The museum had created an atmospheric experience to support the exhibition and as she raced toward it the sounds of London during the Blitz stretched out down the hallway to greet her. The high-pitched screech of air-raid sirens followed by the ominous rolling thunder of bombs dropping on London boomed from the wall speakers. Interspersed with the sinister sounds of war were the best of Winston Churchill’s speeches and an uplifting recording of Vera Lynn singing ‘We’ll Meet Again’, supplied by the BBC Home Service. With this evocative backdrop, plus the dim lighting and retro signage, Sophie felt as if she was stepping straight back into the 1940s.
As her eyes adjusted, she marvelled that this new exhibition had been possible at all and was excited to finally see the photos that the museum had asked Jonathan to provide as part of it, and which he had gushed about, blown up to life size.
All at once her boss was in front of her.
‘There you are, Sophie,’ declared Jonathan, unable to hide the desperation in his tone as he strode towards her. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’ He glanced at his wristwatch.
‘I’m so sorry. Matt said he’d meet me here, and I was waiting for him.’
He shook his head, barely acknowledging what she was saying, the worry furrowing his brow. ‘We really need to get going,’ he continued, anxiously. ‘I am expecting the mayor at any moment. Do you have my notes?’
‘I sent them to you yesterday,’ responded Sophie.
Her boss was often scatty and was endlessly losing things, and he stared at her with a look of abject panic.
She had backed up the notes on her phone just in case. ‘I have a copy.’
Jonathan teased out the breath he was holding. ‘Thank goodness,’ he spluttered. Glancing over her shoulder, he noticed the arrival of the mayor’s party and rushed off to greet them.
The event started on time and Jonathan delivered his speech perfectly, reading it from Sophie’s phone. In it he gave the crowd a flavour of London during the 1940s, and described to them how the photos had been found when the charity had been moving an ancient desk to be sold at Sotheby’s. The negatives of the photographs now being displayed in the museum had been in an envelope with the date March 1944 scribbled on the front. They had somehow slid down behind a drawer and wedged themselves at the back of the desk.
Sophie listened to Jonathan and wondered what it would have been like to be alive during that time and how brave people had to have been. Sophie didn’t feel brave. She didn’t think she would have been able to survive through all that trauma.
What a miracle it had been that the negatives had not only been found but had been in such good condition after so many decades. Once it was obvious the photos could be saved, Sophie’s job had been to research