Sam held the door open for Gertie so that she could take her place in the front while Hedy sat in the back with Betty and Barnaby. As they set off, Gertie gazed up at the whispering trees, letting the dappled sunlight kiss her face through fluttering leaves. She listened to the youngsters talk. Their carefree chatter of who was the better actress, Greta Garbo or Vivien Leigh, and whether the sea would be warm enough for a swim was a welcome refuge from the turmoil in Europe.
Betty squealed when she first glimpsed the sea, and moments later, they were making their way toward the vast, sweeping beach. It was busy with holidaymakers and day-trippers, but they soon found a spot to spread out the large green picnic blanket that Betty had brought with her.
“Who’s for a swim before lunch?” said Sam. “Mrs. B?”
“You youngsters go ahead. I’ll watch.”
“You could come for a paddle,” said Betty.
“Very well,” said Gertie, peeling off her shoes and stockings, their youthful enthusiasm inspiring a burst of energy within her.
The youngsters ran pell-mell into the sea, while Gertie picked her way with care. Hedy glanced over her shoulder and, noticing she was falling behind, turned back to offer an arm.
“Thank you, dear,” said Gertie, accepting with a grateful smile. She gazed up at the near-cloudless sky and inhaled. The world seemed perfect. How could anything bad happen under a sky this blue and with an ocean this infinite? “Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside,” sang Gertie, wiggling her toes as the waves washed over them, the refreshing chill reminding her of what it was to be alive. “Oh, I do like to be beside the seeeea.”
Hedy laughed. “What is this song? You must teach me.”
Sam had jogged back to join them, and he and Gertie sang together. “Oh, I do like to stroll along the prom-prom-prom where the brass band plays tiddly-om-pom-pom.”
They all laughed, and Hedy splashed Sam playfully. Gertie detected the blossoming of a romance and smiled. She was fond of Sam and hoped that Hedy’s parents would approve.
“Right. You two go and have your swim and I’ll lay out the picnic.”
“I can’t eat another morsel,” groaned Sam as he flopped back onto a towel later.
“Hardly a surprise, Samuel,” said Betty. “I’ve never seen anyone scoff so many boiled eggs in one go. Thank you, Mrs. B. That was top-notch.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said Gertie, pouring herself more tea from the flask and relishing the unusual sensation of playing mother. She enjoyed sitting back and listening to them talk. Hedy’s English was almost perfect now. Gertie was astonished at how quickly she’d mastered the nuances of the language. She was even able to tease Sam, who seemed to particularly relish making her laugh.
“Join me for a walk, Betty?” asked Barnaby, standing up and offering her his hand.
“All right. Who’s for an ice cream when we come back?”
There were positive murmurs from everyone even though they were still full from lunch.
Gertie closed her eyes, listening to the crash of the waves, the seagulls shrieking as they spiraled across the sky, and allowed herself to daydream about moving to the coast again. Perhaps it could still be a reality once Hedy was gone. She must have dozed off for a short while, because when she woke, Betty was standing in front of them wearing a mile-wide grin.
“Where are our penny ices?” asked Sam.
“Never mind that,” said Betty. “Barnaby has just proposed, and I’ve said yes!”
“Oh, but that’s wonderful!” cried Gertie as they all rose to offer handshakes and congratulatory hugs. They toasted the happy couple with the last two bottles of ginger beer and more slices of cake. “I must say how much I approve of any marriage that is forged over the counter of a bookshop,” she said. “I met my own dear husband in my father’s shop.”
“That’s so romantic,” said Betty, gazing up at her fiancé, who placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It was rather wonderful,” said Gertie. “We were very happy . . .” Her voice trailed off as the longing of memory overwhelmed her.
Hedy raised her glass first to Gertie and then to Betty and Barnaby. “To finding true love in a bookshop,” she said. Gertie lifted her glass in reply.
“This has been a spiffing day,” murmured Betty as they drove home later that afternoon. “I am the happiest girl in the world.” Barnaby squeezed her hand. “And I want you to be one of my bridesmaids, Hedy. Maybe your mother would make my dress. It could be her first commission!”
“I know she will be honored,” said Hedy. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”
This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that, unless we heard from them by eleven o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.
Hedy stared at Gertie, words tumbling from her as she tried to make sense of it all. “What does this mean? We are at war? What about my family? Will they still come?”
Gertie wanted to tell her that it would be all right, that there was still hope, but she could sense it slipping from their grasp. It was stifling in the living room. Despite throwing open all the doors and windows, the heat of the day spread furnace-like through the house. It felt to Gertie as if the walls were closing in. “I’m sorry, Hedy, but I don’t think it will be possible now.”
“But perhaps they knew this might happen? Perhaps they have already left? Perhaps they are on their way?”
Gertie didn’t know what to say. She watched as Hedy paced the floor in desperation, eyes wide with panic. As Chamberlain reached the end of his broadcast, assuring them that he was certain that the right will prevail, she let out a scream. Gertie had never heard a sound like it. Raw. Anguished. Hopeless.
She rose to her feet. “Now, Hedy, your mother wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
“What do you know of my mother?” shouted Hedy, turning on her, eyes blazing with fury. “You do not know my mother.”
“No, but I know she loves you and wouldn’t want you to be upset. I don’t want you to be upset, so please . . .” Gertie opened her arms.
“You’re not my mother,” cried Hedy as anger gave way to sorrow. “I want my mother! I want my family!” She began to sob hysterically before rushing from the room.
Gertie thought about following her, but her feet seemed glued to the spot. She couldn’t believe it. They were at war again. Where would any of them find the strength to get through this?
She rose from her chair, longing to escape this suffocating misery. Walking to the back door, Gertie gazed out toward the garden. The birds still chattered in the trees; the flowers still bent their heads in the late-summer breeze. It seemed inconceivable that they could be at war when the world was as peaceful and calm as this.
As the first air-raid siren pierced the sunlit peace, she heard Hedy cry out like a wounded animal, echoing the hopelessness of the world as darkness engulfed it once more.