by Diane Moody
“Yes, Lieutenant. That is one thing Frederic never had, though God knows he tried.”
“I’m sure he did. No interest on your part?”
She pinned him with a glare. “What do you think?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’re the kind of girl with a soft spot for the suave and debonair type. Which, now that I think of it, works out well for me. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m the very essence of debonairness.”
“That’s not even a word, is it?”
“It is now.”
She glanced away. “I must apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I found you debonair.”
“Oh?”
“No, it was not your debonairness that first attracted me to you.”
“No?” He wrapped a loose curl of her hair around his finger. “Then what was it that attracted you to me?”
“Let me think. Hmm. I guess it might have been your nose.”
“My nose?”
She traced her finger down the bridge of it. “Yes, your nose. It’s a good nose. A strong nose. As noses go.”
“Why, thank you. I’m quite proud of it. Please—go on. What else attracted you to me? This is good. I like this.”it
“What else? Let me think. I suppose it might have been your smile.”
Danny glammed a big one, turning from side to side. “My smile? It is rather captivating, isn’t it?”
Anya laughed. “Capti … what is that word?”
“Captivating. It means the sight of it arrests your complete attention. You’re so stunned by its appearance that you can’t help but stare, utterly enraptured by its beauty.” He posed again, grinning as hard as he could.
She punched his shoulder. “You are the silliest man I have ever met, Danny McClain.”
“Is that another one of my assets that attracted you to me? Or are you just saying that to be clever?”
She shook her head. “What am I going to do with such a silly man?”
“Me silly? I should remind you that the first time I ever saw you actually smile, you were acting utterly ridiculous.”
“What? When? What are you talking about?”
“The night I first met you. It was later, when we had dinner in the safe house kitchen. You kept eating that awful stew—”
“The dakhaas. Oh, now I remember.”
Danny winced, remembering the dark, lumpy stew. “That stuff was horrible! Didn’t you tell me it was some kind of rabbit?”
“No, we call it roof rabbit, but it is actually cat meat.”
“GAH! That’s right! Now I remember.” He shivered again, recalling how she kept eating the stuff, one spoonful after another, daring him to do the same. He’d kept up, spoonful by spoonful, until he couldn’t stomach another bite. She’d exploded in laughter.
Anya laughed now, teasing him. “I remember how green your face turned, but you kept eating all those tasty morsels—”
“Stop!”
“—made from all those poor little kittens who gave their lives for you.”
“Stop!” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, tickling a rib. “I refuse to let you nauseate me at a moment like this.”
Anya squealed. “No! Danny, stop!”
He pulled back to look at her. “How did I not know you’re ticklish?” He playfully dug his finger between her ribs again and got the same response.
“Danny, STOP!”
“Okay! Okay! I stopped. See?”
She recovered with greatly exaggerated antics. “Oh, Danny, please don’t ever do that again!” She gave a playful punch to his shoulder.
He raised his hands in surrender. “I said okay.”
When she finally caught her breath and settled back, she took her time before glancing his direction. “What have I gotten myself into? I’m afraid I’ve married a crazy man.”
He turned toward her again, propping his head against his hand. “Yes, that’s true. You’ve married a man who is certifiably crazy in love with you.”
Her face still flushed with laughter as her expression softened. She said nothing for a while, just gazed into his eyes as though searching for something.
Finally, he had to ask. “What is it?”
She shook her head, still silent. A moment later, she glanced away. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
He gently nudged her chin back toward him. “Listen, Anya. I want to … that is, I think you should … maybe we should—”
She blinked. “Maybe we should what?”
He tried to swallow past the boulder stuck in his throat. He laced his fingers through hers and studied her eyes. “Anya, I love you … so much. When you said ‘I do’ this morning, I thought I must surely be the luckiest, most blessed man on earth. And to be honest, I have to admit I couldn’t wait for this moment … to finally be alone with you. Here. Now.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “But as much as I’ve looked forward to this, I need you to know I can wait. For as long as it takes.”
“Danny,” she whispered.
“I’m serious. I know it’s a big step. For both of us. And if you’re not ready, all you have to do is tell me.”
A flicker of sorrow fell across her face. Her eyes glistened as she whispered, “Danny, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to say a—”
She grabbed his face with a kiss so sudden, so passionate, he couldn’t find a single breath. His arms wrapped around her as the hunger of her kisses rendered him helpless.
He whispered her name over and over. Then, “Anya?”
A moment passed. “Yes?”
Before he could say another word, her fingers slowly worked the top button of his shirt.
He paused. “Are you sure?”
Her hands stilled as she glanced up at him. A sly smile accompanied a tear that fell from her eye. Still, she said nothing, simply continued freeing the buttons.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
5
9 June 1945
Anya sipped from the delicate teacup, savoring the warmth of its blend, as Danny drained the last drop of his second cup of coffee. They’d discovered the quaint café just around the corner from their hotel. Long past the morning rush, they had the place to themselves for the most part. They’d slept past eight, surprised to find the morning rays of sun slicing across their room. Danny suggested they order room service and stay in all day, assuring her they could surely think of something to pass the time.
But the lure of London tugged them out of bed, and here they were.
Unaccustomed to English food, Anya stared at the generous portions on her breakfast plate. Though London remained on strict rationing, Sophie had told her the pubs and restaurants maintained limited menus for paying customers. During the war years back home, she’d subsisted on little more than sugar beets, tulip bulbs, and an occasional stew if a rabbit or some other critter could be found. At least, that’s all she remembered just now. Even after the Operation Chowhound food drops just days before the war ended, they were cautioned not to overeat after so many years of near starvation. Once they’d been reunited, Danny declared his intention to help her get healthy again. But her system had not yet adjusted, keeping her cautious with every bite.
Danny buttered a piece of toast. “Where shall we start? I’d hoped we could pop in to see the king, but my sources tell me he’s busy, what with putting the country back together and all.”
Anya didn’t miss a beat. “Such a pity, as I’d hoped to return the tiara the queen loaned me for the wedding.”
He barked a laugh, turning the heads of the only other couple in the café. He raised a hand in apology. “Sorry about that,” he said, with a final chortle.
The couple smiled. “No problem,” the American in uniform said. “It’s nice having something to laugh about again, isn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”
Danny turned his attention back to Anya. “Didn’t see that o
ne coming, Mrs. McClain.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Quite the comeback for a girl who didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She shushed him with a startled smile. “Mind your manners, will you?”
He broke off a slice of bacon. “I’ll try. It won’t be easy, mind you, but I’ll try.”
Anya took another sip of tea as she glanced at the other couple, hoping they hadn’t heard the exchange. Thankfully, she found them preoccupied with each other, holding hands across their table. The young woman looked to be about her age; a pretty girl with dark brown curls spilling beneath a navy blue beret. She wondered if she too was a war bride, as they were now being called, and what their story might be. She noted the silver bar on his uniform signifying his rank as a first lieutenant. Perhaps a pilot or co-pilot like Danny?
“Back to my original question,” Danny said. “What sights would you like to visit today? I realize we only have a few days, so we won’t be able to see everything. Anything in particular you’d like to see?”
“You forget I know nothing about London. Until the war, it was only a dot on a map in a school textbook.”
“I see your point. But didn’t your queen ride out the war here?”
“What do you mean, ‘ride out’ the war?”
“Just an expression, meaning she resided here in London instead of Holland once Germany occupied your country.”
“Then yes, that’s true.”
“You told me she and her cabinet came here to avoid capture and having the government overthrown, which is what happened in so many other countries under Occupation. Sounds like one smart lady.”
“Everyone loves Queen Wilhelmina. We were upset when we first heard she’d left us and taken the cabinet and national treasures with her. Then we listened by radio when she explained her actions. Safe over here, she could continue working with our allies to do what she could for the homeland. She literally saved our country.”
Anya remembered listening to the queen’s address on the radio her father had hidden in the wall. Tears had filled her mother’s eyes at the news. Her father had wrapped both of them in his arms, holding them close in that tiny sliver of hope in the queen’s explanation. And for that brief moment, for the first time since the Germans had invaded, she’d felt almost safe again.
Almost.
“Anya?”
She glanced up and found concern in Danny’s eyes.
“It’s nothing. I was just—” She shook her head and busied herself spreading jam on her toast. “You will have to choose where we go today since I’m unfamiliar with London.”
“Then let’s start at Buckingham Palace. It’s not too far from here. We can pick up a map on the way so we’ll know where everything is.”
They finished eating, paid their bill, and stepped outside into the summer sunshine. Danny held her hand as they strolled along the busy footpath. Now and then they’d pass piles of rubble or deep pockmarks where bombs hit.
“Isn’t it strange, all these people walking about as if nothing ever happened?” Anya said. “If not for the piles of rubble or craters where bombs fell, you would never know there’d been a war here. These Brits act like it’s business as usual.”
“Maybe it’s their way of getting back to life and trying to put the war behind them. Though, if you ask me, they all look a little weary. Not too many smiles and certainly not much laughter. And look there at the long line at that produce market—or queues as they call them here. Those women look exhausted, and it’s not even noon yet. I’d wager that kind of weariness comes from living in a war zone day in and day out for all these years.”
“True, but still … it’s as if life just goes on for them. Surely it can’t be that easy, can it?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you forget what happened these last five years? How do you forget everything that happened to your country? Your home? Your loved ones?”
“Are we talking about Londoners or people in general?”
“I don’t know. It just seems odd to me, seeing everyone bustling about, going to work, queuing up at the market, taking a walk—”
“Anya.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Yes?”
“Look, I understand there are still a lot of things that don’t make sense. It’s only been a few weeks since the war ended. It’s all strange and confusing, everyone trying to put their lives back together. But I have to believe they’re all doing the best they can to figure out what that means. We’ve all changed. None of us are the same people we were before this war. But that doesn’t mean we can’t move forward and find a new path so we can go on living.”
“I didn’t say—”
“No, hear me out. All I’m saying is, these folks are doing what they have to do. Which is what you and I must do. And we’ll do that when we get home. We will. But for these next few days, can we not worry about it? Not worry about these folks and why they’re acting ‘normal’ after all they’ve been through? This is our honeymoon, remember?”
She took a deep breath and watched a squirrel skitter along the footpath then race up a nearby tree. “I know I promised to let it all go. I’m sorry. I know you’re right, but I’m just having a hard time allowing myself to—”
“—live again?”
“Yes.”
He kissed the top of her forehead. “Then will you let me give you permission to live and breathe again?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good. Then off we go. The palace awaits.”
The closer they drew to the palatial home of the British monarchy, they noticed the crowds ahead of them rushing along the road.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Anya asked as they picked up their pace.
“I’m not sure, but let’s check it out.”
“It’s the king and queen!” someone said. “Their motorcade is leaving the palace!”
Anya couldn’t see much as she tried to keep up. Danny kept a firm hold of her hand as they bustled along with everyone else.
“There they are!” someone shouted. “They’re coming this way!”
Like the parting of the Red Sea, everyone scurried out of the street, making way for the motorcade of automobiles coming their way. A roar of joyful shouts filled the air as people waved their hats and hands.
“Long live the King!”
“Long live the King and Queen!”
“Anya, look! Can you see them?”
Just then, she spotted the limousine slowly passing not two meters away from them. Anya saw the round jovial face of Queen Elizabeth as she raised the back of her gloved hand as if to wave, then simply held it there, stiff and barely moving. Brightly-colored feathers on her enormous hat matched the rich emerald shade of her coatdress. Anya caught a quick glimpse of King George’s dark blue uniform with its gold-fringed epaulets, and the white peaked military cap atop his head. The increasing roar of the exuberant crowd rose as the vehicles moved beyond them.
“I guess no one told them we’re here,” Danny shouted, “or I’m sure they would have stopped for a quick hug.”
“Of course they would,” she teased.
“Not bad for our first day of sightseeing, is it?” Danny tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow as the crowd began to disperse. “Who knows, maybe Churchill will stroll by and invite us for a pint at his favorite pub.”
Anya elbowed his ribs. “You’re quite pompous today, aren’t you?”
As they neared the palace, they spotted the Victoria Memorial and its surrounding platform filled with jubilant crowds. And just beyond it, the magnificent gates of Buckingham Palace.
Anya couldn’t believe her eyes. Standing at the railing beside the gate, she tried to comprehend the enormity of the grand home of British royalty. “Why would anyone need such a large house? I can’t even imagine it.”
“I think it’s more than just a residence.” Danny stood beside her with his hands on the rails. �
�Apparently it’s an actual working palace.”
“I imagine it’s beautiful inside, don’t you?”
“I’m sure it is, though a bit formal for my taste.”
She cast him a look and rolled her eyes before glancing back at the palace. “Doesn’t look as if it was damaged during the war. I would think Hitler would have put a target on it.”
“Actually, the palace was bombed sixteen times during the war, nine of them direct hits.”
At the sound of the English accent, they turned to find the couple they’d seen earlier in the café. The American stood a full head taller than his young wife who smiled kindly at them, his arm draped casually across her shoulders.
“Oh, hello … again,” Danny said.
“I promise we’re not following you,” she teased. “We wanted to stop by the palace again before Jack leaves. This is where we first met.”
“Here?” Danny asked.
“Yes, right here. I’d just introduced myself when the air raid sirens blew, of all things,” he explained. “We rushed into that shelter over there and waited it out together.”
“My friends couldn’t believe I fell in love during a raid.” She smiled up at her husband.
“You’re leaving, Lieutenant? Heading home by any chance?” Danny asked.
“Yes, home to the good ol’ USA. Just got my orders yesterday.”
“Congratulations. Where do you call home?”
“Long Island. You?”
“Chicago.”
“Sox or Cubs?”
“Cubs, all the way. How about you? Dodgers, Giants, or Yankees?”
“Yankees all the way.”
“Well, I won’t hold that against you,” Danny teased. He held out his hand. “I’m Danny McClain, and this is my wife Anya Ver—I mean, Anya McClain.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “I still have to get used to that. We just got married. Yesterday, as a matter of fact.”
The girl beamed. “Truly? Because Jack and I just got married four weeks ago.”
Jack gave her neck a squeeze then kissed her soundly.
Anya thought Jack quite handsome with a ready smile, clear blue eyes, and neatly-trimmed blond-brown hair beneath his cap. His pretty wife looked up at him with adoring eyes, then turned her attention to them, her eyes sparkling with humor.
