Beyond the Shadow of War (7 page)

“That’s any easy one. Follow me.”

7

Stepping off the double-decker bus, Danny and Anya followed Sybil as she turned the next corner. Here and there, skeletal brick walls outlined empty foundations like so many ghostly footprints; the damage indiscriminate. As they rounded another corner, before them stood a magnificent cathedral beneath an enormous dome.

Sybil spoke quietly with reverence. “The Prime Minister said there was no greater symbol of British resilience during the war than St. Paul’s Cathedral. He said it had to be saved at all costs.”

“How could it survive when so many buildings around it were decimated?” Danny asked.

“To be honest, I know of no other explanation than divine intervention. The cathedral was damaged several times during the Blitz, and later as well. But thankfully, a group of men who called themselves the St. Paul’s Fire Watch stood guard around the clock, remaining on alert, particularly during the long months of the Blitz. They had installed tanks of water and kept pails at the ready near the more vulnerable parts of the domed roof you see up there. It’s quite extraordinary, how they protected the building and all its history.”

“Still, if the Germans had targeted the cathedral for a direct hit,” Danny said, “surely it would have been flattened like all these other buildings. I’d say divine intervention played a bigger part than those volunteers carrying buckets of water.”

“You’re right, of course. And that was true throughout the war, even after the Blitz.” Sybil shielded her eyes from the sun as she studied the dome again. “But you have to admit it looks like a beacon of hope against all the destruction around it. That’s why I wanted you both to see it.

“And here’s the irony,” she continued. “Before the war, you could never get a full view of the entire cathedral because all the surrounding buildings blocked the view. Only glimpses. But with so many buildings leveled around it now, you can see it from all sorts of angles and locations around the city. I was quite astounded the first time I saw it like this. Of course, it’s bittersweet, I suppose, in light of all these other structures that were destroyed.”

For the next half hour, they wandered down the wide aisles of the ornate cathedral, often gazing up at the colorful tiled mosaics on the ceiling. Sybil told them about the famous English architect Christopher Wren, who redesigned St. Paul’s after the Great Fire of London in 1666 leveled it, along with so many other churches and buildings. She pointed out some of the damaged areas and the elaborate tombs in the cathedral’s crypt, including that of Christopher Wren.

“It’s very beautiful,” Anya said, as they made their way back outside. “I’ve never seen churches like this one or Westminster Abbey. Are all the churches in London this big?”

“No, they come in all shapes and sizes. I’m not Catholic, so I’ve never worshipped here, but I love to visit. Especially now. It helps remind me that no matter what happens, life will go on.”

“It seems we’ve lost our sunshine,” Danny noted as they descended the steps outside. “Those clouds rolled in fast, didn’t they?”

“Always, but just be glad you had a little sunshine. We’re cloudy and gray most of the time, as you probably know by now. If you’re up to it, there’s one more place I’d like to show you. It’s not far, but we’ll want to catch another bus.”

A few minutes later, they exited their bus after it crossed the Thames on the famous Tower Bridge. Anya couldn’t take her eyes off the bridge. She’d seen a photograph of it in one of her school books, with its two towers connected by two parallel bridges. She realized it was the only structure she recognized from her school studies.

“Ah, London Bridge, right? Another one of Hitler’s missed targets, I see,” Danny noted.

“No, this is Tower Bridge. London Bridge is that one down there,” she said, pointing at a rather plain bridge not far from them. “Visitors always confuse the two. Tower Bridge is named because of its location here alongside the Tower of London. Which isn’t just a tower, as you can see, but rather a palace and all its buildings and grounds. It dates back to the year 1078, if you can believe it. Since then, it’s been used as a residence for the royal family, a prison, a fortress, and let’s see‌—‌what else … oh yes, the royal treasury. This is where they keep the crowned jewels, though they were sent elsewhere for safekeeping during the war.”

Danny blew a whistle. “Quite a bit of damage, I see. Devastating to see on such a historic place like this. Any direct hits?”

“Only one, and that was during the Blitz. You can see several of the buildings were either destroyed or severely damaged. But what I really wanted you to see is the moat. See that area outside the walls where you would normally find a moat filled with water?”

Anya looked at rows upon rows of vegetation. “It’s all filled in. Are those gardens?”

“Yes! Isn’t it brilliant? After the war started and food became so scarce, we were asked to plant gardens wherever we could. They were called Victory Gardens. You’ll see them all over the country, some on golf courses or tennis courts, parks, just about anywhere. But this is surely the most admired and well-tended. I love to come by here whenever I’m in this part of the city. There’s just something about it that cheers me so.”

“Perhaps it’s the sight of so much growth amongst all the rubble?” Anya said.

“I think you’re right. Growth amongst the rubble. That’s very astute, Anya.”

They walked a little further as Sybil gave them a brief history of the events that had taken place here over the course of history. When a gentle rain began to fall, they took shelter under the eaves of a nearby bookstore.

“I suppose we should probably head back to the hotel now,” Danny said. “Sybil, you’ve been such a fantastic tour guide. Thank you again for showing us the sights.”

“Oh, but you’re most welcome. I’ve probably worn you out, but it’s I who should thank
you
. You’ve no idea how lovely it’s been, showing you my city instead of drowning myself in misery now that Jack’s gone.”

“Would you consider giving us a telephone number or an address?” Danny asked. “I’m only asking because it might be good for Anya to be able to reach you, in case she … uh, well, what I mean is, if she has to‌—‌”

“Absolutely. I would love to stay in touch. Here, let me write it down for you. We don’t have a telephone at home, but you can ring this number, and someone will get the message to me. It’s my aunt’s shop. We live just down the way from her.”

Danny handed her his pen after she found something to write on in her handbag. When she finished, she handed the slip of paper to Anya.

“Please, any time at all.” Sybil took a scarf from her bag and lifted it over her hair. “When you know more about your plans, feel free to let me know. And please stop by to see me at Rainbow Corner if you’re in that area before you leave town. It’s near Piccadilly Circus in the West End.”

“We’d love to,” Danny said.

“Well, then. Off we go. It’s been such a delight,” she said, giving Anya then Danny a hug. “And congratulations! Maybe Jack was right. Maybe someday we’ll meet for tea in America. You do
have
tea in America?”

“Sure we do. It comes with lots of ice in a tall glass,” Danny teased.

“You Yanks and your fondness for ice. Oh‌—‌I almost forgot. Will you be able to find your way back to your hotel?”

“Come to think of it, no.”

She gave them easy instructions, then said her goodbyes.

The next morning, Anya awoke smiling at Danny’s quiet snores near her ear. She was amazed how quickly he could fall asleep and envied him for it. With her back pressed against his chest, his arm around her waist, she felt the easy rise and fall of his slumber. Until their first night together, she’d never given much thought to sleeping in the same bed with someone before. Yesterday, on their first morning as husband and wife, she’d been startled to wake up with no memory of how she’d fallen asleep. She couldn’t believe she’d stayed asleep all night, wrapped in Danny’s arms. It was all so new and so different, the emotions crisscrossing her heart even now.

The sudden flutter of a snore tickled her ear. She smiled, careful not to stir, not wishing to wake him just yet. She still couldn’t fully comprehend that they were married. She’d fought her feelings for him from the start, from the first moment she laid eyes on him at the safe house. Already the war had hardened her; the carefully laid bricks walled around her heart with fierce determination. The last thing she wanted was to feel anything for anyone again. She’d actually wondered if she might be cursed with everyone she’d ever loved somehow marked for death. To lose anyone else would surely undo her, and she wasn’t about to let that happen. Never again.

Until Danny.

What a shock to see him there that first day; such a grown-up version of the American kid in the photograph he’d sent her brother. Tall and handsome; his close-cut hair and stubble a darker shade of brown than she would have expected. His strong jawline seemed to compliment his strength of character, even as his kind blue eyes pierced her soul that day. She remembered the deep dimples of his smile when he first realized it was her. That exact moment, it nearly broke her spirit. How desperately she’d wanted to rush into his strong arms and stay there until the nightmare of war was over.

Instead, despite his constant efforts to break down her defenses, always asking her to trust him, to let him watch over and protect her, Anya had kept him at arm’s length for as long as she could. Until that day he came back to find her, and she could no longer resist the tug of her heart to trust his.

Even now, she struggled to allow herself the simple pleasure of his company. As if she didn’t deserve such happiness. Her worlds had not yet blended. She wanted them to, needed them to. But a heavy blanket of sadness and despair seemed forever draped over her heart. And with it, a voice constantly taunting her, like a cruel and heartless version of herself who kept chiding her for daring to hope, then slapping her face if a single moment of goodness or happiness came along. As though she neither deserved it nor had any right to hold onto it, much less dream of a happily-ever-after life.

Yet here she was, wrapped in the arms of a man who loved her enough to marry her and vow to spend the rest of his life with her.

She pushed away the negative thoughts and tried to simply cherish the moment. She didn’t want to think about the past anymore with all its ugliness and heartache. She chose not to dwell on the future and how much it terrified her. Instead, she closed her eyes and remembered the long hours they’d talked here in bed. Their laughter, their longing … and the exquisite moments of intimacy they’d shared.

Anya smiled, thinking how silly she’d been to be so nervous about it. “These things have a way of working out,” Sophie had told her.
Oh Sophie, how right you were.
She felt her face warm as the tenderness of their passion played through her mind. Never had she imagined such feelings, such complete oneness, such pleasure.

But as beautiful and surprising as it had all been to her, what mattered most was how wonderfully loved
and incredibly
safe
she’d felt in Danny’s arms.

If only this moment could last forever.

If only it would be enough.

Anya felt him stir as he awakened and felt the expanse of his chest against her back as he stretched with a slow and lazy yawn. She smiled at the strength of his arms when he pulled her closer still, and shivered at the warmth of his breath on her neck as he kissed her.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he kissed the soft spot below her ear.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

If only this moment could last forever.

If only.

8

Danny and Anya spent that day and the next wandering around London at a far more leisurely pace. On Monday, after stopping for lunch at a pub in Westminster, Danny noticed a movie theater across the street as they exited.

“Anya, look!”

“What am I supposed to look at? The cinema?”

“Look at the marquee! They’re showing
Winged Victory
! My flight school graduation ceremony was filmed for it. I’m
in
that movie! C’mon, let’s see if there’s a matinee.”

Five minutes later, they were seated in the center of the small, partially-filled theater. On the way in, Danny insisted they splurge for a box of popcorn.

“But we just ate. How can you possibly be hungry?”

“I’m not. But you can’t watch movies without popcorn. Which is strange considering all those years I worked in Dad’s theater. After a while, even the slightest smell of the kernels popping at the concession stand got to me. I thought I’d never want another bite of the stuff for the rest of my life. Yet, here we are, in London, at the movies‌—‌and we have to have popcorn, don’t you see? And it’s not just any movie‌—‌I’m actually
in
this one!”

She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. You don’t really believe you’ll actually see yourself on the big screen?”

“You never know. It could happen.” He placed a piece of popcorn between his teeth and waggled his brows. “Kith me?”

“No, I’m not going to‌—‌”

He didn’t wait for her response, giving her a salty kiss and shooting the popped kernel in her mouth.

She batted his arm playfully, dissolving into laughter as she ate it.

He held a finger before his lips. “Shhh. The movie’s starting.”

As the red velvet curtain parted, a newsreel began. Its tinny narration over stilted music described the continued world-wide celebrations following the end of the war.

“Now, from Berlin to London, from the vanquished to the victor; outside Buckingham Palace, crowds cheered themselves hoarse.”

As a symphony played a familiar merry tune, the camera panned the mass of humanity gathered around the palace, stretching as far as the eye could see.

He felt Anya’s hand grab his arm. “It’s just like Sybil said. Danny, look at all those people. Were you in a crowd like that when the announcement came?”

“No, I was riding a lorry back to the base. They’d sent us to Liverpool to pick up our gear that was sent there when we were MIA. We kept seeing flares shoot up from different bases we passed. Somehow we just knew the war had ended. Back at the 390th the guys got a little carried away as they partied and shot out some windows in the control tower. That was about it, I think. But I’ve never seen what happened here in London until now. Just look at all those people!”

The music played on as the camera showed a panoramic view of the millions gathered on May eighth, just a few weeks earlier. The narration continued.

Seven times during V-E Day, the British royal family appeared on the balcony.”

The king in his military uniform stood beside the queen, dressed in a coatdress and hat. Princess Margaret stood beside her father, while Princess Elizabeth, also in uniform, stood beside her mother. As the family waved, the crowds went wild, shouting and waving back. Later, Winston Churchill joined the royal family on the balcony sending the crowds there into a roaring, euphoric bliss.

Anya huddled close beside him. “I had no idea. It wasn’t like this back home, at least not where I was. Until Sybil brought it up, I’d never dreamed there were celebrations like this.”

The lump in his throat surprised him, as did the moisture blurring his vision. When Anya turned to look at him, he noticed her eyes were filled with tears too.

“Aren’t we a pair?” he croaked, putting his arm around her.

He recognized the song playing over the next scene as the same one played when he graduated from high school. “Pomp and Circumstance,” wasn’t it? Something about the nostalgic tune choked him up even more until he barked an unintentional sob. Thanks to the cheering audience, only Anya heard the pitiful thing.

The darkness did nothing to dissipate the throng of people celebrating on that night. People waved British flags. Others danced on top of vehicles and monuments; some even climbed to the top of street lights high above the crowd. The camera focused on a uniformed couple kissing passionately at the top of a street light as lines of soldiers and young ladies snaked through the crowds in long, wavy conga lines.

“We are living in the midst of many great events. We know that in the days when war seems remote and far away, these will be historic pictures. They will tell another generation how England celebrated Victory in Europe Day.”

The movie audience cheered again as the newsreel continued then silenced when the screen filled with a massive German structure. At the infamous Nuremberg Stadium, the scene of countless Nazi party rallies throughout the war, a huge American flag was raised to cover the enormous swastika atop the massive building. Then, as it hid the hated Nazi emblem, an explosion destroyed the swastika in a symbolic gesture. Danny and Anya joined the loud cheers that filled the theater.

When the movie began, Danny could hardly contain himself. At one point, when the onscreen inductees began marching, they broke into song‌—‌the Army Air Force song. Danny sprang up out of his seat with a whoop and a holler, joining other airmen in the theater.

“Off we go, into the wild blue yonder!”

“Danny!” Anya tugged at his sleeve, her laughter accompanying his boisterous rendition.

He sat back down and watched the movie play on, more documentary than a regular story film, but Danny loved it anyway. He leaned over to Anya often to explain the training and drills and testing depicted, noting their accuracy.

“This is it! This is it, Anya!” He pointed at the screen and elbowed her at the same time. “That’s our graduation. See if you can spot me.”

“But they all look alike. With their caps on, you can hardly see their faces.”

He scooted to the front of his seat. “Shhh! Just keep watching. Maybe they’ll do a close-up.”

The music played on as the precisely choreographed march of graduates filled the screen.

“There you are!” Anya shouted. “See? Right there, second from the left?”

The camera angle changed. “No! I didn’t see me. Are you sure it was me?”

Her head bobbed. “Yes, I’m sure! Were you next to the end of your row or whatever they’re called?”

He fell back in his seat. “Well, yes, but‌—‌”

“Then it had to be you.”

He ignored the film, captivated by her smile, so wide and carefree. Such rare, unbridled joy on the face of his bride took every other thought from his mind. He’d never seen her more beautiful. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her passionately and didn’t stop, even when she giggled.

As they watched the rest of the movie, Danny made comments now and then, mostly concerning the portrayal of life in the Army Air Force. When the movie ended and the lights came up, someone tapped Danny’s shoulder.

A young man seated directly behind them looked at them with a sheepish grin on his face. “I couldn’t help overhearing, and I simply must ask. Were you really in this film?”

“Just one of the cadets there in the graduation ceremony. That’s all.”

“I say, then! I’ve never met an American film star before. Would you be so kind as to give me your autograph? If it’s not too much to ask?”

“But I’m not a star. I’m just a co-pilot for‌—‌”

“Well, then! Even better. A movie star
and
a war hero. We thought you Americans would never come join us, but once you did‌—‌well, I believe I’m safe in saying we couldn’t have won it without you. So by all means, please, if you would‌—‌” He patted the pockets of his jacket to locate a pen, then rummaged through his trouser pockets for something to write on. “Here, my handkerchief. It’s clean,” he said with a wink to Anya. “I promise.”

“Well, if you insist.”

“Excellent. Here, use my back for a surface.” He turned and leaned slightly over so Danny could jot his name on the handkerchief.

“There you go,” Danny said.

“What was it like? Meeting all those famous people like Lon McAllister and Edmond O’Brien? And what about Jeanne Crain? Is she as beautiful in person as she is on screen?”

“No, I never met any of the stars. They weren’t there the day of our graduation. They must have added that scene later from a sound stage or something.”

They started back up the aisle toward the exit.

“Really? Because it looked like they were right there,” Anya said. “Why wouldn’t they just film it there with all of you?”

“That’s Hollywood for you. All smoking guns and mirrors.”

Both the young man and Anya stared at him. Realizing their confusion, Danny explained.

“It’s made to
appear
that they were there, but no doubt easier to control the sound and lighting on some back lot in Hollywood.”

“Then what do mirrors and guns have to do with it?” Anya asked.

He waved her off. “Just an expression.”

“Well, then. Thank you, sir.” The young man carefully folded his handkerchief and put it in his pocket. “And thank you for your service during the war. The best of British,” he said, extending his hand.

Danny shook his hand. “The best of British?”

The young man smiled. “Just an expression, as you say. It means the best of British luck to you.”

“Oh, I see. Same to you.”

As the lad made his way out of the theater, Anya leaned in. “Please, can I have your autograph, mister?”

“Yeah, that’s a first. But who knows, maybe he’s right. Maybe I was born to be in the movies.” He dazzled her with his smile and danced his brows. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think you might be better suited for the circus.”

“The circus? Now you’re just being mean.” He stole a kiss as they headed out of the theater.

Later, as they strolled through Hyde Park, they paused at the gates of Kensington Palace to view the visible damage to the home of the royal family. It seemed wherever they went, the city’s scars of ruin and destruction surrounded them.

As much as the movie had lightened Anya’s spirits, Danny could see traces of the haunting shadow drifting through her eyes again. He wondered once again what he’d been thinking to bring her here for their honeymoon. A wiser man would have hopped right back on the train and found some quiet coastal town, far from the constant reminders of the long war.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

He stopped to face her. “Anya, I have an idea. I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve seen enough of London. Would you agree?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you mention it, yes. Why?”

“What if we go back to the hotel, pack our bags, and spend our last couple of days somewhere near the coast. I remember one of the guys in my outfit mentioning a little town called Aldeburgh. I’m not sure there’s much to do there, but‌—‌”

She silenced him with a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes, please take me anywhere that doesn’t remind us of war.”

They arrived at the Victoria Apollo train station just after four-thirty that afternoon as the skies opened and drenched London in a heavy downpour. Anya thought it a fitting departure. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the city with all its historic sites and the constant hustle and bustle of people trying to put their lives back together. She simply felt overwhelmed by its size, its scope, and most of all, its miles and miles of damage and destruction. The presence of war still lingered here like a morbid residue shrouded over the city.

Even worse than the debris of war around them were the people they passed on the street. They all seemed exhausted from the long years of war. A far cry from the jubilant images they’d seen on the newsreel at the cinema. Would the ecstatic celebrations of VE Day ever fill these streets again with laughter, cheering and dancing? Would London survive? Would the scars of war eventually fade? Would Londoners overcome their sorrows, able to face the job still before them to restore their businesses, their homes, and their lives?