No Shelter from Darkness (10 page)

Beth straightened up, almost recovered but still breathing heavily, while Mary went on.

“How'd you do that? I thought it was all over at the start.”

“I dunno,” panted Beth.

“Bloody brilliant!” repeated Mary.

Beth looked back around to see Susan walk off and disappear into the crowd that busied themselves with replenishing their fruit punch. She smiled to herself, proudly, but it soon faded when she realized it was for the wrong reason. She had won the race, but what pleased her more was that she'd beaten Susan. She'd taken revenge on her, embarrassed her. And that felt so wrong.
Who am I?

As if confirming her own internal warning, the air raid sirens fired up and Beth covered her ears, her thoughts being drowned out by the wail.

*   *   *

Even when the closer sirens wound down for their brief respite, the ones in the distance could still be heard at the peak of their call, just before those closest whirled back up to a deafening and constant tone. Beth had been in Victoria Park once before when the warning sounded, interrupting her father helping Oliver to fly a kite. She couldn't remember it being this loud.

Everybody in the park was moving. There was no panic; this was nothing that hadn't happened before. But people moved with an adequate amount of urgency. No one seemed as bothered by the sirens as Beth. She forced her hands away from her head. Her right eye squinted, as if doing so would enable her to deal with the noise better. It was only then she realized Mary was talking to her, possibly yelling. She held out Beth's shoes and gas mask, and Beth focused on her voice.

“—you think we should try?”

“What?”

“I said which exit should we go for?”

The sirens suddenly seemed bearable. Concentrating on a different sound had somehow taken the edge off, and she was able to ignore it to some degree. It was like staring into the distance when someone passed by; their presence was known but the detail was lost. With her wits returned, Beth shrugged and nodded over to Bonner Bridge, the way they'd come in. Beth hung the gray box around her neck before swapping shoes and then the two of them joined the one-way traffic.

The closer they got to the bridge, the slower they walked, held up by the mass of people trying to get through the bottle-neck. Bunched together like this, it seemed there were more people now than when they were all spread out over the field. On tiptoes, Beth tried to peer over heads toward the exit before looking back. They
were in the middle of a tight pack. Behind them she could see people dropping off, hurrying toward other exits. But that option was closed to her and Mary now.

“I reckon most of this lot are gunning for the tube station,” yelled Beth over the sirens. Bethnal Green station was one of London's largest public shelters, and though there were smaller ones dotted around here and there on the way, everyone who'd come from other areas along with half of the locals would think of the station first. It was the best known shelter, even though it was a good ten-minute walk from the park. “We'll try for home. Hopefully Ollie's already there.”

“I haven't seen him since his race,” yelled Mary.

“He knows what to do,” Beth told herself, as much as she was telling Mary. Looking up, she found the quiet blue sky above spread over them, in contrast to the loud bustling on the ground. There hadn't been a daylight raid in the East End for months, and complacency made it feel so surreal. Beth aimlessly searched the sky for clusters of unwavering black dots, but so far there were no signs of any planes.

The bridge was thick with people crossing, teetering carefully so as not to drop off the sides. The closest siren wound down, and Beth heard a gasp behind her. Turning, she spotted a thin cloud of dust rise up way yonder above the tree line from outside of the park—an unstable wall collapsing, perhaps. She tapped Mary on the shoulder. As her friend turned the ground vibrated and above the sirens an explosion boomed.

The small dust cloud had been replaced with a billowing black plume, and from it wood and brick flew, spinning. A collective gasp passed through the crowd.

Then, panic.

Mary fell against the woman in front and Beth caught her elbow in time to keep her from falling. Under her feet Beth could feel the ridge that signaled the change from the track to the bridge, and while the sirens still whirled their seizing alarm, shouts and yells could be heard all around. People on either side of them were falling off into the canal. Beth held onto Mary's hand as they flowed with the crowd onto the road outside the park.

Glancing back, Beth saw people pulling themselves up and out of the water and helping children who'd been pushed in. On the park
side of the canal, men and women began jumping in voluntarily. For them, it was a quicker way out.

Once they were free of the crowd, Mary tugged Beth's arm, and they ran down St. James's Avenue. The sirens wound down for the last time, leaving the air filled with the noise of panic. “Keep your eye out for Ollie,” yelled Beth.

“The runt's probably already home.”

“I hope so.”

As they ran, Beth gazed back up to the plain blue sky. Her step slowed as she looked back over to where the explosion had left a spiral of black smoke.

“Beth!” Mary called. “Come on!”

“Where are the planes?”

“What? I dunno, who cares. Let's go.” Mary turned and picked up the pace, leading the way down the street, but something else kept Beth from following.

Somewhere behind her she heard a scream.

Beth started back up the road, going against the flow of people running past her as she picked up on a quieter, pained whimper. She stepped to the side, up onto the pavement, and a short way ahead saw a dusty black Austin 10 that had mounted the curb. Susan Pullen was lying on the pavement in front of it, crying. Her right foot was wedged beneath the car's left front wheel. The car was at an angle; it looked as if the curb had prevented if from rolling any further.

It had stopped short of running Susan over.

Beth ran up and saw the driver's door was open with no-one behind the wheel. “Hold on!” She stepped over Susan's uncomfortably angled legs and crouched down. It appeared only the tip of her plimsoll was caught under the tire. “Can't you just pull your foot out?”

“I think it's twisted,” Susan sobbed. “It hurts if I pull on it.”

“Even if you leave your shoe behind? Can't you slip your foot out?” Susan shook her head. “What if I pull on it?” asked Beth.

After a brief pause, Susan nodded. “Try it.”

Beth wrapped her hands around Susan's threadbare shoe, but as soon as she applied any pressure Susan gasped and yelped. Beth quickly let go. She got to her feet once more and stepped back to assess the situation.

Something caught her eye.

The bully leaned back on her hands. Her elbow glistened. A few tiny drops of blood were welling from a graze. While Beth watched, one drop grew big enough to begin rolling. It slowly made its way down her arm, navigating the tiny, invisible hairs that made it zigzag slightly. The trail it left was faint and dried up instantly, but the tiny globule of blood that moved downward was bright, pure, and sparkled in the light. It was fresh.

It was beautiful.

“Oi! Are you gonna help me or what?”

Beth was torn from her own private interlude. She met Susan's shining eyes and cleared her throat. “Sorry.” She shook off this feeling she didn't quite understand. The answer to their problem suddenly became clear. “We've got to move the car!” She ran around to the driver's door and looked in, but the key was gone. “Okay, we'll have to roll it back.”

“Who's
we
?” called Susan.

Beth walked into the street where people hurried past. Their numbers were dwindling. She looked for Mary, but she was nowhere to be seen. Turning back into the flow of men and women, she tried to stop someone. “Sir? Excuse me? Ma'am, if I could just …” No one heard her; no one even seemed to see her.

Beth looked back at the car.
How hard can it be?

Returning to the front of the car, she put her hands on the bonnet above the dirty grill and took a deep breath. She pushed, heaving and straining, but the car didn't budge an inch. She stopped to catch her breath, rubbing her neck while Susan laughed between sobs.

“Okay,” said Beth. “I know it hurts, but you've got to pull as hard as you can, okay?”

“You're never gonna move that thing.”

“I'll just leave you then, shall I?” Beth challenged.

Susan paused before shuffling slightly, ready then to do as she was asked. Beth leaned her back against the car. With nothing to push against, her feet slipped on the pavement. She gritted her teeth and heaved, but the car still didn't move. She began to shove it, bouncing backward on the bonnet in a regular rhythm. Finally the car started to rock very slightly, back and forth. As the movement got more pronounced, so did Susan's sobs and whimpers.

“Stop!”

“Keep pulling,” shouted Beth between breaths.

Susan heaved and with a pained cry her leg jolted back. Her foot was free and she rocked on the pavement cradling it.

Beth leant forward, hands on knees, and breathed heavily for a few seconds before holding her hand out. “We've got to go,” she said.

The street was almost deserted. Susan took her hand and Beth pulled her up, but as soon as she put her weight down she hopped back and leant against the wall of a house. At that very moment, Mary came running up.

“Where were you a minute ago?” asked Beth.

“What do you mean? I thought you were with me until I got to the bottom of the road. I turned around and you were gone.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Take her other arm.”

“Really?” With a tut, Mary walked around them and took Susan's weight, and the three of them started on their way down the street.

“We'll try the church shelter,” said Beth glancing up. She still saw no evidence of an airborne threat.

“It looked full a minute ago,” said Mary.

“They'll have to make room.”

When they reached St. James Church, the shelter was overflowing. People were still trying to force their way in.

“Where are we gonna go now?” asked Mary urgently.

But all urgency had drained from Beth. Everything was far too quiet.

“Beth?” prompted Mary.

Suddenly the sirens came to life once more. This time though, the tone was constant. There was no undulation, no dipping in the pitch—just one, long note. It was the all clear. “I knew it,” uttered Beth as they all stood motionless. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mary shift her weight under that of Susan.

Susan dipped her head down to speak into Beth's ear. “If this was the other way around, I would've let you rot.”

Beth fought the urge to simply let go of her. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Worse still, she wasn't done helping her foe yet, despite all the hatred Susan poured down. “Come on,” she yelled.

“Where?” shouted Mary.

“The infirmary.”

NINE

A NEW WEEK BEGAN,
and Susan was back in school with nothing more than a bandage around her ankle. The thuggish girl did leave Beth alone, however, for all of that first day of the week. She guessed her good deed must have counted for something.

By the afternoon everyone had consolidated their stories in the playground, and a rough picture had emerged as to what had happened on Saturday: the alarms had been sounded on unfounded grounds—which was hardly uncommon—and an unexploded device was then triggered just south of the park, panicking people into thinking bombs were dropping. This was all second-hand knowledge, coming from parents and friends of parents who were in the ARP or other civilian forces. But information of this kind was usually pretty accurate. So, too, was the news of several injuries occurring in the St. James Church shelter. One person died, an elderly lady who was crushed to death at the back while frantic people selfishly crammed in.

What might have remained of their sports day was lost, but Beth had found her pride nonetheless. Even though no one else cared, it mattered to her. And it truly was
pride
she felt, and not revenge. That's what she told herself, and that's what she believed. Now she felt entitled to feel happy. Her bizarre condition had disappeared, she was feeling the healthiest she'd ever felt, and the raids on the East End—and London in general—had become few and light.

There was just the nightgown left to get rid of.

Beth had been waiting for the perfect time in what remained of the weekend, but she never managed to find even a minute to herself. The blood-covered nightgown stuffed under her bed was the
only thing that kept her from forgetting
that
night completely. It was such an annoyance when everything else seemed fine.

By the time she got to the front doors of the school to leave that afternoon, Mary was talking with Gibson at the gates. She looked up the road and saw her brother with Dave and Charlie, walking, but not homeward. With her mother doing a shift at the hospital, Beth walked out, wondering if she could slip past Mary and get home before them.

“Beth!”

She stopped and closed her eyes briefly before looking round with a smile. “Mary, I didn't see you.”

Mary looked back at Gibson. “See you tomorrow.”

“Uh, no. It's okay,” said Beth. “I've got a couple of things to do anyway.” Without waiting for a response Beth started walking again up the road. She heard Mary hum as though slightly confused, and had to rely on hope that Gibson would save the moment. She took several anxious steps, waiting for the silence behind her to be broken.

“Do you … you wanna go to the park?” Gibson asked Mary, unknowingly rising to the occasion.

Beth smiled and walked more purposefully out of earshot.

Once home, she rushed up the stairs and opened her bedroom door. In the heat of her room the smell had gotten a little worse, and she climbed onto her bed and opened the window, just in case. She'd figured out that a lot of the odors she was intermittently picking up on were those that others couldn't. She hadn't yet figured out why. Fumbling under her bed, she felt the stiff fabric of the gown and pulled it out. No amount of soap would get it clean, and it was too risky to put it in the bin.