“We can’t leave yet,” Audrey said. “We need to stay and help.”
The man rested a thick hand on each of their shoulders. “Go on home now, girls. I’ll make sure your boat gets put back where it belongs.”
Eve knew they had done enough. Audrey looked exhausted and there was little hope of finding Alfie among thousands of soldiers. “He’s right, you know,” Eve said. “We’d better go while we have the chance. And if we leave now, we might be able to get back to London before dark. Alfie might already be there.”
Their car was in the same place where they’d left it in Folkestone. Eve jumped into the passenger seat before Audrey had a chance to. “What are you doing?” Audrey asked.
“Get behind the wheel. You’re driving home.”
“You know I can’t drive.”
“It’s time you learned.”
“Eve . . . please . . .”
“You’ll thank me for it someday. Get in and let’s go home.”
Audrey was a terrible driver at first, bouncing the car like a kangaroo until she got the hang of the clutch and shift lever. Eve nearly changed her mind about trying to teach her. But after the first hour, she did well behind the wheel. Once again, they passed miles of barbed wire, fortified military installations, and dozens of signs warning them to Keep Out. “It’s a relief to know that our coastline is well armed and ready to defend against an enemy attack,” Audrey said.
“The first attacks won’t come from the sea, though,” Eve said. “The Nazis will attack us from the air like they have in all the other countries.”
Audrey stared straight ahead, her gaze riveted to the road. “I’m scared, Eve.”
“So am I.”
Audrey glanced at her. “But you’re always so brave,” she said before turning to watch the road. Eve didn’t reply.
Back in London, Eve asked Audrey to drop her off at the boardinghouse. She climbed from the car, stretching her weary limbs, then walked around to the driver’s side to say goodbye to her friend. “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear from Alfie, won’t you?” she asked. “You still have my telephone number, right?”
“Yes, you gave it to me,” Audrey replied, patting her purse.
“Promise you’ll ring me up the moment you hear?”
“I will. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She smiled as she traced an X over her chest. “Now let me get going while there’s still enough daylight to find my town house.”
Eve felt reluctant to let Audrey go, wondering when she would see her again. “What’s next for you, Audrey? Are you going home to Wellingford?”
“I plan to, yes. If they give Alfie leave time, that’s where he’ll want to come.”
Eve thought otherwise. After hearing what the men had endured in France, she guessed that Alfie would seek comfort with a whiskey bottle in a London nightclub. Eve studied her friend and wondered if she looked as ragged as Audrey did. Suddenly Audrey flung open the car door and leaped out, pulling Eve into her arms for a hug. They held each other tightly; then Audrey released her and got back into the car, grinding the gears as the car lurched away.
“Keep practicing, Audrey,” Eve called with a grin.
Eve found the other girls in the parlor of the boardinghouse, still gathered around the wireless where she’d left them the night before. One of her roommates leaped up when she saw her. “Eve! Where in the world have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you, taking off like that.”
“Have you heard what’s happening?” another roommate asked. “The news is calling the evacuation from Dunkirk a miracle. They say if it hadn’t taken place, we would’ve been forced to surrender to Hitler!”
“I heard.” But Eve didn’t say that she’d been part of it. She couldn’t find words to describe her experience yet, but she was proud to know that she and Audrey had made a difference.
On June 4, everyone gathered around the radio as a news announcer described in grim tones how some 250 ships of various kinds and sizes had been sunk in the channel. Was one of them Audrey’s? He told how the RAF had downed numerous Luftwaffe aircraft and had suffered heavy losses themselves. Thank heaven Alfie wasn’t a pilot. Some 300,000 men had been ferried to safety across the channel, thanks to hundreds of civilian volunteers. The number astounded Eve.
Then the room grew hushed as Prime Minister Churchill spoke. “Wars are not won by evacuations,” he said in his gravelly voice. Eve closed her eyes, picturing everything she’d witnessed, the weary, discouraged men, wounded and shell-shocked. She didn’t open them again until Mr. Churchill reached his stirring conclusion: “We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”