Authors: Irina Shapiro
When Lily opened her eyes, all she saw was the expanse of clear, black sky above her. The bloated shape of a barrage balloon floated just within her line of vision and she thought it looked like a black hole in the sky. Maybe it would suck her in and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. The fire was still burning somewhere behind her, but she couldn’t see the burned carcass of her building. A young woman in a medic’s uniform was bending over her holding a cup of water.
“She’s come around,” she told someone close to her and another face appeared above Lily. It was her next door neighbor, Mrs. Simms. “That’s her, all right,” she whispered to the medics, “poor lamb. It was that young man of hers that was done for by the bomb.” Lily closed her eyes trying to slip back into unconsciousness. She simply could not absorb the fact that Ian was gone. She felt the young woman wiping her tears as she sobbed and sobbed, wishing she could have seen him one more time, told him that she loved him too and had reassured him that nothing would change her affection for him.
Eventually, the girl helped her sit up and someone handed her a cup of luke warm tea. She drank it gratefully, trying not to look at the ruin of the house or the spot where Ian had lain. There was nothing there. He had been placed in a body bag and left in the ambulance while they dealt with Lily. She forced herself to stand up and looked around. What was she to do now? Someone stopped a taxi and the two medics pushed her inside asking her where she was going. Lily automatically gave the Butlers’ address and was whisked off into the night and away from what remained of Ian.
Gwen took one look at Lily’s face and ushered her into the sitting room calling for Uncle William. She poured Lily a brandy and sat her down waiting for her to speak. Lily looked at her anxious face and tried to speak, but no sound would come out. She just wept until Gwen forced a pill down her throat and made her take a gulp of water. She felt herself growing heavy and limp and must have fallen asleep because by the time she woke up it was already morning. The blackout curtains had been opened and a weak sunshine was streaming into the room. A blanket had been lovingly thrown over her, but the room was empty.
Lily made her way to the bathroom and was shocked to see her face in the mirror above the sink. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were swollen from crying beneath her tangled hair. Her dress was covered in sooty streaks and she had no idea what had happened to her handbag. She began to panic, since that handbag was about the only thing she had in the world at that moment. Someone knocked on the door and Lily opened it to find Gwen standing outside. She was still in her dressing gown and her face was barely recognizable from weeping. She took Lily by the hand and led her into the kitchen where a pot of tea was already on the table and there was toast, butter and jam ready for her. Gwen pushed her into a chair and poured her a steaming cup of tea. She just looked at her as if she was an injured animal.
“Ian...”
“I know, dear. I’ve been to the morgue already. The funeral will be on Saturday. William is seeing to the arrangements right now.” She patted Lily’s hand in mute sympathy. They just sat in silence, sipping tea, each lost in their own thoughts of Ian. Lily felt her heart break again as she thought that this was the first day in a world in which Ian was no longer present.
The funeral was a quiet affair with only Lily, Gwen and William and Ian’s friend from work in attendance. They held a brief gravesite service and then interred his body in the gaping hole of the freshly dug grave. When Lily finally returned to Kensington she was shocked to find her mother sitting in the parlor. “Lily, thank god you are all right. I got on a train as soon as Gwen called me. So kind of her. I’ve come to take you home, darling.”
Lily flew into her mother’s arms and sobbed. Her mother let her cry without saying anything. “Mum, I can’t go home. I have a job and what if Nick comes back. He won’t know where to find me.”
“We’ll just leave all the information with Gwen. I am sure you can get leave from your job under the circumstances,” urged her mother. Lily had to admit that leaving London seemed very appealing at this moment. She had no home and no place to stay except Aunt Gwen’s and she didn’t want to overstay her welcome.
“Get your things, dear. There is a train leaving for Penzance at 5pm.”
“I don’t have anything. Just what I am wearing.”
“Right. Well, I have some clothing coupons saved up and we’ll get you some new things once we get you home.”
Lily thanked Aunt Gwen and Uncle William for everything they had done and allowed her mother to lead her away. They promised to stay in touch and let her know if they heard anything about Nick. Uncle William telephoned Lily’s boss and arranged for an indefinite leave of absence.
Lily watched the countryside speed by as the train raced towards Cornwall. Everything was so lush and beautiful and Ian would never see any of it again. Already she was moving away from that life towards something new as if the past couple of months with him never existed. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair. That a twenty-two year old boy shouldn’t die such a pointless death, but who would listen? He didn’t even die fighting the enemy. He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. If she had decided to forgo drinks, she probably would be at home with him when the bomb hit. Her mother would be making her way home alone after her funeral. Lily wondered if Ian had ever made love. She hoped he had. It would be such a shame to die without ever having loved or been loved in return. Lily closed her eyes to shut out the beauty around her. It was all too painful at the moment.
Rebecca sat at her desk waiting for yet another revision to an already much revised report. She had re-done the same presentation until she was sick of looking at it and she was feeling very rebellious. It was well past 7pm and she was tired, hungry and not in the mood for any more ridiculous modifications that would probably have absolutely no bearing on whether they got the account or not.
She was not in good spirits. She hadn’t been since she started dreaming of Nick’s disappearance and Ian’s death. She would wake up feeling desolate and hopeless and it would take her some time to clear her head and remind herself that she was channeling Lily’s feelings of grief, not her own. After all, even if these people had been real, it all happened over sixty years ago and it had no direct bearing on her life. Yet, her tears were real and her face was frequently damp as she forced herself to wake up.
Becky had a little time to kill until they came back to her, so she pulled out a granola bar from her drawer and went on-line to check out the latest news. On a whim, she googled Lily Stratton. As expected, there were lots of entries, but none of them were the right one. Then she googled Lily McGuire. To her utter astonishment something came up. It was a tiny article from a London paper dated May 8, 1941. It described a particularly severe air raid the night before and Lily McGuire was mentioned as the unwitting survivor of a house that had been bombed to smithereens. It also mentioned her brother-in-law Ian McGuire who had been killed during the raid. “My God, they were real,” thought Rebecca to herself in amazement. She printed out a copy of the article to show Emma and Rachel and stuffed it into her bag.
She decided to see what else she might be able to come up with. She googled London Blitz and read the description. Ironically, the blitz ended in May of 1941, just days after Ian had been killed. She felt oddly crushed by this revelation. She hadn’t known Ian, but she felt a profound sadness at his untimely death. Rebecca was about to look for more information when she saw Sarah striding down the hall the thick report in her hand.
Rebecca was thoroughly annoyed. The report she had been working on was covered in red correction marks and Rebecca resigned herself to another long night at her desk. Further research would have to wait; however, a plan was starting to form in her mind.
“They better give me a car home,” she thought furiously as she started making the changes. Some of them were so silly that she wondered at the sanity of these people. She was starting to hate advertising with all her heart. Just then her phone rang.
“Hello, beautiful. Are you still slaving away at your awful job?” asked Sergei. “Would you like me to come and pick you up when you are finished? I wouldn’t want you to take the train by yourself at night.” Rebecca wanted a ride home, but she was tired and a little annoyed with Sergei. She appreciated his interest and his concern for her well-being, but this was the third time he had called her since lunch and she found that a little suffocating.
“Thank you for the offer, but I am really not sure how long this will take and I don’t want you to hang around waiting. They will give me a car home and I’ll go straight to bed when I get there. I am really tired.”
“Well, I really wish I was joining you. Call me if you change your mind. I’ll be at home. Kisses.” He hung up. Rebecca hung up and went back to the report.
The girls got together at Emma’s house two days later. Emma lived in a small apartment on the Upper West side, which she shared with her friend from work, Ralph. Ralph was a sweet guy who had a steady boyfriend and spent very little time at home. Emma had the run of the place and she was very happy with that arrangement. The apartment reflected her personality. There were a lot of colorful pillows and candles on the window sills. The apartment had a peaceful, relaxing aura, which was exactly what Emma was going for. She was a big fan of Feng Shui and there was even a small statue of a Buddha on her dresser. Although Emma had been raised as a Catholic, she was a closet Buddhist.
Emma was lounging on the couch facing Rebecca who sat with her legs under her in a large armchair. Rachel sat on the floor with her back against the couch on which Emma was lying. They had an empty pizza box in front of them and Rebecca was still nursing her glass of wine. She wasn’t really a big drinker, but she enjoyed the occasional glass of wine, especially towards the end of the week when she was usually feeling stressed and tired.
“So, tell us about the Russian Romeo,” said Emma. “We’ve barely seen you the past couple of weeks. Must be love.”
“I don’t know about that. I have mixed feelings about him and I wanted your opinion.”
“What? Mixed feelings? You?” asked Emma in mock shock. She always teased Becky about her need to analyze and over-analyze everything and everyone. “He is cute, he is attentive, and he is generous. Must be pure hell.”
“It’s not as simple as all that. He is cute, but there are certain things that are starting to bother me about him. At first I was really flattered by his attention. He always opens doors for me and offers to carry my bag if it’s heavy. He insists on paying for everything, even if I just want go get a cup of coffee to go.”
“The bastard,” chimed in Emma laughing.
“Let me finish, ok?” said Becky seriously. “At fist I was flattered that he is so interested in me. He called me as soon as he left me and he always wanted to make plans days ahead to make sure I was free, but then he started calling me ten times a day. He wants to know where I am at all times. I think he checks my cell phone when I am out of the room to see who’s been calling me. He gets upset when I tell him I am hanging out with you guys. He is very possessive. And this is only after a few weeks. Can you imagine what he’ll be like if we keep dating?”
“Well, have you told him this bothers you?” asked Rachel.
“Yes, I have. He just laughs it off and blames it on being Russian. He says that he is just old fashioned and he wants to take care of his girl and make me happy,” Rebecca explained. “There is something else too. He seems to have an awful lot of money for someone who is just a mechanic. He drives a Lexus and has a really expensive condo and he spends money like water. There is always a wad of cash in his pocket.”
“Why do you find that suspicious?” asked Rachel.
“I’ve overheard some of his conversations by accident. They are mostly in Russian, but sometimes he forgets and will say something in English. I get the feeling that he is doing something illegal.”
“Ohhh,” Emma and Rachel said in unison.
“Do you have any proof?” asked Emma.
“No, of course not. It’s just a gut feeling.”
“Have you slept with him yet?” inquired Emma.
“Yes, and I wish I hadn’t. I got caught up in the moment. He is kind of dominating at that too and now he wants to stay over at my apartment every night. He is making me feel suffocated. What do you guys think I should do?”