A Different World by Mary Nichols Page B

fires that could be seen for miles. And close by the docks were the overcrowded homes of the poor, where the damage and loss of life were worst. But the bombing was not so accurate that the rest of London did not suffer. Other places were an inferno too.
    The BBC newsreaders had a dry way of delivering the news that somehow seemed to diminish the horror of it, but not even the most determined ostrich could be blind to the terror of what had happened. Louise’s first thought was for her parents. She tried ringing them but the telephones were out of action. She spent a sleepless night worrying about them. And the next morning thenews was even worse. The afternoon raid had been followed almost immediately by an even greater one in the evening, the bombers guided to their target by the fires.
    ‘I’ll have to go and see they are all right,’ she said, after again trying and failing to reach her parents by telephone.
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ Tony said. ‘Then I must go and see my folks.’
     
    London was recovering from the most terrifying night most of its inhabitants had ever experienced. The fires in the east could easily be seen from the west. Even in streets where the buildings still stood, there were heaps of broken glass and everything was covered in grey dust. Louise found her mother stoically trying to clean the house. Her face was chalk white and her eyes red-rimmed. Strangely she was not so much afraid as angry.
    ‘Louise! Where have you sprung from? And Tony too. How nice to see you.’
    ‘And you,’ he said.
    ‘I couldn’t get you on the phone, so we came to see how you are,’ Louise explained.
    ‘The lines are out of action, but we’re all right, not like some poor souls, but if I could get hold of that Herr Hitler, I’d personally wring his neck.’
    This was so unlike her normally timid mother, Louise laughed. ‘That’s the spirit.’
    Faith put down her dustpan and brush. ‘I’ll make some tea.’ She took three cups from hooks on the dresser. ‘I’ll have to wash these before we can drink from them. There was a bomb dropped in the next street and it set everything shaking and wobbling and some of the ceiling came down and covered everything in dust.’ She filled the kettle as she spoke. ‘We’re lucky we’ve still got gas.So many have lost everything. According to your father it won’t be the last of it and there’ll be more to come.’
    ‘I’m afraid he is right,’ Tony said. ‘Have you thought any more about evacuating?’
    ‘Henry won’t do that.’
    ‘Where is he?’ Louise asked, washing up cups and saucers.
    ‘Gone to see what he can do to help. He was out in the thick of it last night, came home for his breakfast and went out again.’
    ‘He left you alone all night?’
    ‘I went into the church. There were lots of others there.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘We had sing-songs, and not always hymns, either. I didn’t tell your father that, though.’
    They all laughed. Louise was amazed at the resilience of her mother. It was as if the raids had imbued her with a stoical courage she had never shown before. They sat drinking tea, making use of a tin of evaporated milk because the milkman hadn’t turned up, and discussing the raids, the casualties and the damage, and then moved on to talk about what was happening in Cottlesham and Tony’s posting to an operational squadron.
    ‘Do you think you’ll be flying against that lot?’ Faith nodded her head skywards. ‘The RAF boys did their best to knock them out of the sky, but there didn’t seem to be enough of them.’
    ‘Well, there aren’t, are there?’ he said. ‘They’ve taken a pasting themselves.’
    ‘I shall pray for you,’ Faith said. ‘Not that I don’t pray for everyone in danger in this war, but you shall be mentioned especially.’
    ‘Thank you,’ he said.
    Henry returned just as they were leaving to catch their trains. His black frock was thick with dust; there was even a layer of it in the brim