“Yes.” That was definitely it, and she was fairly certain Selfridges was another. And when she got to Oxford Street she could find the one that began with a P. Polly was bound to be at one of the three, and she could ask her where her drop was, and go home.
If the retrieval team still hadn’t shown up by then. It had occurred to her that they might be waiting to pull her out till the fifteenth, when her departure wouldn’t be noticed in the bustle of the Army’s arrival. But when she got back to the manor, the Army was already there. A staff car and a lorry were parked in the drive, and the next day soldiers began stringing barbed wire along the road and around the wood, making access to and from the drop impossible.
On the seventh, Lady Caroline sent for the vicar. Eileen showed him up to the dustcover-draped sitting room. “Has Mrs. Hodbin written yet, Ellen?” Lady Caroline asked Eileen.
“No, ma’am, but this came in the morning post.” Eileen handed her a letter from Theodore’s mother.
“She says she can’t come fetch Theodore after all,” Lady Caroline said, reading it, “and she wants us to send him home on Monday by train as we did last time.”
Oh, no, Eileen thought.
Lady Caroline turned to the vicar. “Have you found a new billet for the Hodbins, Mr. Goode?”
“No, not yet. It may take several weeks to-”
“That’s quite impossible,” Lady Caroline said. “I’ve promised Captain Chase he can take possession Monday morning.”
“This Monday?” he said, sounding as shocked as Eileen felt.
“Yes, and the Hodbins clearly can’t stay here. There’ll be no one here to care for them. They’ll have to go home till you can find them a new billet. They can go to London with Theodore.”
Alf and Binnie loose on a train, Eileen thought. Visions of toppled luggage, rampaged dining cars, and yanked emergency cords danced before her eyes.
“No,” the vicar said, obviously imagining the same disasters. “There’d be no one to meet them.”
“We can telephone Mrs. Hodbin and tell her they’re coming,” Lady Caroline said. “Ellen, go place a trunk call to-”
“They haven’t a telephone,” Eileen said.
Lady Caroline looked annoyed.
“Couldn’t you take them with you to Chadwick House, Lady Caroline?” the vicar ventured. “Only until I find a place for them?”
“I couldn’t possibly impose on my hosts like that. If you aren’t willing to let them go alone, you must accompany them, Vicar.” She frowned. “Oh, dear, that won’t work. Monday is the Home Defence meeting in Hereford, and it’s essential that you attend. Someone else must accompany them instead, Mrs. Chambers or-”
“I’ll take them,” Eileen said. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I’d planned to go to my cousin in London when I left here. I could escort the children.” And with you paying my way, I’ll be able to save my money to pay for lodging and food till I find Polly.
“Excellent,” Lady Caroline said. “It’s the perfect solution, Vicar. Ellen can take them, and the only expense to the Evacuation Committee will be the Hodbins’ fares. Theodore’s mother has sent his ticket.”
The vicar must have seen the stricken look on Eileen’s face, because he said, “But if she’s going as the children’s escort, then-”
But Lady Caroline was already saying briskly, “Go and tell the children to pack their things, Ellen. You can take the train Monday.”
And you’d better hope the retrieval team doesn’t show up before then, Lady Caroline, Eileen thought, going along to the nursery. Or I’ll be out of here without so much as a backward glance, and you can take the Hodbins to London yourself.
She packed the children’s bags and her own the next day, said goodbye to Una and Mrs. Bascombe, who were leaving on the bus, endured one last lecture on the dangers of talking to soldiers, fed the children their tea, put them to bed, and then waited till they were asleep and the house was quiet to sneak out to the drop.
The moon was still up, and she only had to use her torch once, to find a way through the barbed wire. The clearing looked enchanted, the ash tree’s trunk silver in the moonlight. “Open,” she murmured, “please,” and thought she saw the beginnings of the shimmer, but it was only mist, and even though she waited two more hours, it didn’t open.
It’s just as well, she thought, picking her way back in the gray predawn light. I couldn’t really have abandoned poor Theodore to the Hodbins.
She ran across the dew-wet lawn, let herself quietly into the kitchen, and started up the back stairs. Binnie was standing barefoot in her nightgown at the top of them. “What are you doing up?” Eileen whispered.
“I seen you go out. I thought you was trying to sneak off on us.”
“I went out to see if any clothes had been left on the line,” Eileen lied. “Go back to bed. We’ve a long train ride in the morning.”
“You promised you wouldn’t leave us,” Binnie said. “You swore.”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re all going to London together. Now go back to bed.”
Binnie did, but when Eileen got up a few short hours later, she nearly fell over her, lying wrapped in a blanket in front of her door. “Just in case you was lyin’,” Binnie said.
Lady Caroline left at eight in the Rolls-Royce the Duchess had sent for her. Without so much as offering us a lift, Eileen thought furiously, and her anger helped her get the children dressed and assembled, and off to Backbury. The lane, which for the past week had been packed with military vehicles of all sorts, was utterly deserted. They didn’t pass a single lorry on the hour-long, luggage-laden walk into town. Binnie whined that her suitcase was too heavy, Theodore demanded to be carried, and every time an aeroplane went over Alf insisted on stopping and marking it on his planespotter’s map. “I wish the vicar would come along and give us a ride,” Binnie said.
So do I, Eileen thought. “He’s not here,” she said. “He’s in Hereford.” But when they reached Backbury, Eileen took them past the vicarage on the off-chance that he hadn’t left yet.
The Austin wasn’t there. I never got to say goodbye to him, Eileen thought, bereft. Well, she supposed it served her right. After all, she’d been prepared to leave them all without a backward glance how many times? Including last night.
And you’re only a servant, she told herself, hurrying the children through the village. It was nearly 11:41. She hustled them out to the station.
Mr. Tooley came running out. Oh, dear, they hadn’t missed it, had they?
“I warned you ruffians not to come round here again-”
“They’re with me, Mr. Tooley,” Eileen said quickly. “We’re leaving for London on today’s train.”
“Leaving? For good?”
She nodded.
“Them, too?”
“Yes. The train hasn’t come yet, has it?”
Mr. Tooley shook his head. “I doubt it will today, what with the big bombing raids on London last night.”
Good, the Blitz had begun. Polly’d be there. “What sort of bombers were they?” Alf asked eagerly. “ME109s? Junker 88s?”
Mr. Tooley glowered at him. “You put any more logs across those tracks and I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life,” he said, stormed back into the station, and slammed the door.
“Logs across the tracks?” Eileen said.
“It was a barricade,” Alf said. “For when ’Itler invades. We was just practicing.”
“We was gonna move ’em afore the train came,” Binnie said.
One more day, Eileen thought. “Sit down, all of you,” she said. She upended Alf and Binnie’s suitcase and sat them down on it to wait for the train. And please let it come soon.