Everyone Brave Is Forgiven(52)

“Well I’m glad that you and Tom are.”

“Oh, we are.”

“Well, that’s fine,” said Alistair.

“And look, Hilda is terrific. You shouldn’t judge her just because she—”

“Oh, of course not. Nobody is brave, the first time in an air raid.”

Mary took a longer drink of the wine. “It’s much better up here, isn’t it? The bombs aren’t nearly so close as one imagines when one is down below.”

“I expect they’re attacking the docks.”

Mary slid the bottle back to him. “Should we go and look? I mean, there mightn’t be another air raid. I’d hate to think I missed the one chance.”

Alistair said nothing.

“What?” said Mary.

“You make it sound like the jubilee fireworks.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes, and so should you be.”

“I’m a grown-up.”

“Still, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Let’s not get hurt then. Let’s just go a little way.”

He hesitated. ‘All right.”

“As close as we can, just to see what it looks like.”

Outside, the sky was lurid. The sound of the bombs seemed distant, and it was hard to make out the direction while the echoes rolled up the white marble canyon of the Strand. Light came in all colors and from all directions. Smoke, or cloud, hung at a few thousand feet, looming blue-white when searchlights cut in on it from below, flashing yellow when exploding anti-aircraft shells lit it from above. It was seven-thirty in the evening and the sun seemed to be setting in the west and the east simultaneously. Alistair stood a yard from Mary and they looked from one sunset to the other.

“What is that in the east?”

“I don’t know,” said Alistair. “Some new kind of searchlight.”

“So red?”

“Could it be lithium? I didn’t know we had anything that bright.”

“I wish we could see over those buildings.”

“Come on,” said Alistair. “We should go back.”

Mary craned her neck. “But we haven’t seen anything. Let’s at least go as far as the river.”

“The wardens won’t like it.”

“So? They can give us a good telling-off. You won’t cry, will you?”

He grinned. “All right. Just as far as the river, and then we’ll go back.”

They reached the Thames and walked out onto Waterloo Bridge. Now, near the center of the bridge while the sun set over the water behind them, they had a clear view to the east. They stopped. Where the bombing was concentrated, flames rose hundreds of feet into the air. From time to time high above, the pale underside of an aircraft would glow for a moment as it twisted through the light. The whole scene was inverted in the river, bent and shattered in the oily wavelets. As they watched the fires reaching down into the black depths, they felt the breeze on their backs as the distant flames drew air in. They stood gripping the parapet, an arm’s length apart. They listened to the roaring of the distant fires.

“Good god,” said Alistair at last.

Mary said nothing, only stared at the conflagration.

“Mary, are you all right?” He moved a foot closer and then stopped, dropping the hand he had been about to put on her arm.

She looked up at him, took half a step forward, then hesitated. “We shouldn’t go any farther.”

He smiled. “No.”

She gave him a grateful look. “We ought to go back. To be safe.”

“Yes. We really should.”

They stood at the center of the bridge and she said, “I’m glad we went as far as we could.”

They walked back. The lacerated sky faded in the west and brightened in the east. When they reached the Lyceum they stopped at the stage door.

Mary said, “You aren’t coming in, are you?”

“I should find my regiment. The men get in a state without orders.”

She looked away. “You must do the right thing, of course.”

“Would you say something to Hilda from me? And to Tom?”

“If you like. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“You’re a rock.”

She looked up at him sharply. “Alistair, are we cowards?”

Their faces flashed in the frank light of the guns, and he was silent.

—

Back down in the basement someone had lit more candles.

Tom rose when Mary returned. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“He had to go to his regiment. He said to let you know how sorry he is.”

Hilda slumped. “But what took so long?”

“He couldn’t leave until there was a gap in the bombing.”

“He’s mad,” said Tom.

“It isn’t as close as it seems down here. They’re bombing the docks.”

“Perhaps we should all go up,” said Hilda. “One would hate to miss out on the action.”

Mary said nothing.

“I was worried sick,” said Tom. “I’m sorry. I know it’s silly.”

Mary sat down with him. “I was only upstairs.”