The old man frowned and raked his fingers through his bristly hair. “I don’t think you’ll find anything around here. If it hasn’t been boarded up and sandbagged, it’s being used by the military.”
Tears filled Audrey’s eyes before she could stop them. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” her mother’s voice whispered.
“There now, miss . . . Don’t cry . . . ,” the old man said. She was ashamed that he’d noticed her tears, but his voice softened as he added, “You might try the stone church down the street. They’ve been working hard, bringing tea and sandwiches to the soldiers. Might find a quiet corner in there where you could sleep.”
Audrey pulled Eve’s damp handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “Thank you so much. That’s what we’ll do, then. Which street is it on?”
“Dunton. But it won’t do you any good to know that. All the signs are down so the Nazis can’t find their way. Turn left outside the door, cross the next road, and keep going. Dunton twists and turns a bit, but you’ll soon see the church.”
“Thank you so much.” The tea had steadied Audrey’s nerves and she was able to stand and walk outside without Eve’s help. The train hadn’t arrived for the soldiers yet, and men filled the streets and alleyways like a lumpy, olive-drab carpet. “I want to look for Alfie. Would you mind terribly?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Eve said. They slowly felt their way across the street to where the closest group of men lay huddled.
Audrey couldn’t imagine her brother sleeping on the hard ground and hoped that officers like him were billeted someplace with real beds. She wouldn’t mind sacrificing a room for the night if Alfie needed it. As near as she could tell, most of the men were asleep, but one of them opened his eyes as she and Eve approached and nudged his mate.
“Look, Clyde. We must have died and gone to heaven because here’s two angels coming for us.”
“Don’t be daft. Angels got wings and they don’t.”
“We’re looking for my brother, Lieutenant Alfred Clarkson,” Audrey said. “Do either of you know him? Have you seen him?”
“Never heard of him,” the one named Clyde replied. “But you’re not going to go walking through here and waking everybody up to ask about him, are you?”
“Well, I’d hoped—”
“Don’t do it, lady. Most of us ain’t slept in three days. This is the first we’ve closed our eyes without worrying about Nazi planes screaming down from the sky. And us with no place to hide.”
“You have no idea what we been through,” the other soldier added.
“We’re very sorry,” Eve said before Audrey could reply. “We’ll come back tomorrow. I’m glad you made it home.” She tugged Audrey’s arm, pulling her away. “Come on. Even in daylight it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
They walked close to the wall of houses and shops on one side of the street, feeling their way in the unfamiliar town, stumbling over cobblestones and sandbags. The half-moon still fought to shine through the clouds, and Audrey spotted the church steeple silhouetted against the sky. Once inside, they followed the sound of voices to a makeshift kitchen behind the sanctuary, where three women chatted as they washed dishes and swept the floor. The one with the broom spotted Audrey and Eve.
“Well, hello, there. Do you need something?”
Eve quickly explained their errand, the long drive down from London, the frightening boat trip in the dark. “And now we’re wondering if we could sleep on one of your pews for a few hours before walking back to Folkestone tomorrow.”
“You can come home with me, duckie, if you don’t mind sleeping two-to-a-bed.”
Audrey was uncertain about going home with a stranger, but Eve wasn’t.
“That would be lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”
Audrey yanked her arm. “But—”
“They must be good people to be up at this hour, helping our soldiers,” Eve whispered. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about offering kindness to strangers?”
“I suppose. . . .” Audrey didn’t know enough about the Bible to say for certain.
“We heard your church is offering tea to our soldiers and we would like to do our bit,” Eve added. “Could you use some extra help in the morning?”
“We could use all the help we can get,” the woman at the sink said. “There’s thousands of our boys needing it.”