He laughed, charmed by her humor and sparkling green eyes. Her toss of glossy, brilliant ginger hair curled about her chin as if her hat was the only thing keeping it under control. Her tilted nose and creamy skin fit her round face perfectly. She was a little thing, shorter than Sylvie by quite a bit.
She held out her hand. “I’m Sally Higgins. Pleased to meet you.”
He shook her hand. “Alec Kent.”
She nodded. “Bink called yesterday and told me all about you. He was so impressed with you he couldn’t stop talking.”
Alec blinked, flabbergasted. “That’s surprising.”
“Why?”
“Because Felix Melton and John Bink acted like I was a pestilence until I passed the physical.”
“Well, there you go. They’d never seen a half-blind man do what you did. They like to tease and talk big, but they’re basically decent men.” She frowned and instantly reached out to touch his forearm with a light tap. “Oh, dear. That was insensitive of me. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What? That I’m half blind?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m used to it, and it is a fact.”
She smiled, her sunny expression a breath of freshness in the gloomy building. “Well then, let me show you around.”
She introduced him to the only two other AFS women at the station, Susie Orland and Edna Manchester. Susie was a friendly middle-aged woman with frizzy dark hair. Edna was somewhere in her twenties and had a crusty attitude. Neither women was married so far as he could tell.
Sally then showed him the messroom, which used to be stables when fire appliances were horse-drawn. It was a large room with windows overlooking a street. The windows replaced what used to be stable doors. Tables and chairs filled the area. She explained that a green grocer sold fruits and vegetables on the corner and that helped with meals. There was an Express Dairy across the road. She mentioned they’d had a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs just that morning.
After introductions to twenty more men in the station, he wasn’t surprised when Bink and Felix walked inside. None of the men seemed interested in Alec’s blind eye, but maybe they hid their thoughts well too. He’d never been in a group of men that large where someone didn’t ask how he lost sight in one eye.
Everyone stayed mum.
Sally eyed him, and he got the distinctive impression she found him interesting. He saw the plain gold band on her left ring finger and wondered.
“Well, I have to get to work before the boss gets angry,” she said.
“Who is the boss?” he asked, but she kept going toward the central command room.
Bink sauntered up to him. “She’s a piece of work.”
Alec instantly felt brotherly protectiveness toward the petite Sally. “Is she now?”
“She’s married, but the way she moves around here, you’d never know it.” Bink’s self-satisfied expression made Alec curious.
“She flirts with men?”
“Damn right. All the time. If her husband could see her now…”
“You know her husband?”
“Nah.” Bink shrugged. “He’s some high-speed Spitfire pilot, I hear. She doesn’t see him much, so I guess she figured she’d join the AFS where men outnumber women.”
Alec didn’t know Sally’s motivation. “Seems like a lot of speculation on what she’s thinking. Have you asked her?”
“Hellfire no.”
“Then I’d keep your trap shut about her. She seems like a decent, nice person.”
Bink’s mouth popped open. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Right.”
Bink’s cheeks went red and he cleared his throat. “Uh…I think you should use that Bentley you were talking about to help us tow a trailer pump.”
“Right,” Alec said again.
Felix walked up. “What are you all doing standing around here? Come back to the break room.”
Before they could make a move, the alarm went off, and one of the men ran out of the central room. “Fighters sighted. The alarm should go up—”
Sirens blared, and Alec’s heart started pounding. “It’s bloody morning and the Jerries have already started.”
“Looks like,” Felix said as he waved him toward the bay holding the cars and trailer pumps. “Let’s move it.”
“The boss ain’t here!” another man yelled from the front door.
“I’m bloody here,” Harley Maitland, the head firefighter, said from the little area that served as his office. “Get moving.”
The next few moments turned into a heart-pounding blur as they loaded equipment and made ready for what would come. It wasn’t long. Jerry pounded the city from above, and Alec realized he could hear the city crying out. It was a bizarre sound that sent all the hairs on his body standing at attention. Women screaming outside the fire station. Men shouting. He registered the noises, the sound of the ack ack guns peppering the skies and the sweeping noise of Jerry’s military taking aim at the city.
Before he could blink, Alec was ordered into a car pulling one of the trailer pumps alongside Felix and Bink.
Orders were given out for two pumps to head toward the Strand, where one bomb had already hit at the Strand Shell Mex building. Other pumps started toward Gaiety Theatre and St. Thomas’ Guys and Lambeth hospitals.
“Bastards are dropping bombs on bloody hospitals,” Felix said under his breath from the backseat as they left the garage.
“Think they’re that good?” Bink’s eyes went round.
Alec maneuvered through snarled traffic. “I think they have some idea where things are in London.”
“Bloody hell,” Felix muttered again.
Alec almost told the other men that conjecture wouldn’t help them fight fire. At the same time, Alec’s heart thumped like mad and his throat felt tight. Despite everything he’d read concerning fires and firefighting, he knew intellectually that nothing like real experience prepared a man. So here he was, driving through the ridiculous traffic with Jerry still dropping bombs and no guarantee what would happen next.
Above them, ack ack guns thumped, sirens wailed, and it all mixed into a soup that made Alec’s head ache. He understood he’d have to tolerate chaos. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down or he’d burn through all his energy before they even fought a fire.
They drove toward smoke rising in the distance. Cars moved out of the way if they could, and soon traffic thinned as people who hadn’t made it to shelters earlier found their way underground. The car actually felt hot, and he rolled down a window. Smoke tinged the air along with the stench of bricks, wood, plaster, and chemicals burning.
“Damn,” Bink said. “Smells awful.”
Alec ignored Bink.
“Ain’t like you haven’t smelled it before.” Felix pointed. “There’s the turn. There’s another building next to the Shell Mex. That three-story one.”
Sure enough, although the Shell Mex looked in bad shape, the one next to it appeared worse. AFS worked on the Shell Mex from the front, but the building next to it was blocked by debris unless they turned down an alley right before it. Alec made the turn down a broad street with enough room for the pump and discovered two other pumps were already working on the three-story building, which was smoking badly.
“Why are we here?” Alec asked. “Two pumps are already working this.”
“Sometimes the information comes in wrong.” Felix sounded disgusted. “We’ll work it anyway until we hear differently.”
They jumped out of the car, and Alec’s body and mind went into high gear. Beyond the craziness, his excitement rose. His first fire. He was two parts thrilled and two parts terrified. With uniform, boots, and helmet, he hoped he was ready for the challenge.
One of the other pump crew members ran over. “There are three crews on the Shell Mex! We need help here!”
“You got it!” Felix gestured to Alec and Bink.
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Soon Alec, Felix, and Bink worked the pump, Felix at the front of the hose as the water pressure made the hose undulate in their hands. Heat from the building reached toward them like dangerous fingers and threatened to singe. Smoke dared to choke them. Alec had tied a scarf around his face, but soon it was wet, as the rest of him was, clear through to the skin. One part of the building started to sizzle as water made headway and started to cool the structure. Alec felt as if maybe, just maybe, they’d have a chance to save something of the building. Unfortunately one section of the building didn’t cooperate and water made little progress.
Flames twisted higher as they leaped like relentless demons from the back side of the already half-demolished building. Fire crews already on scene shouted as they held hoses on the flames. So much for stopping the fire. Like an angry beast, it took hold of the structure, devouring, incinerating, until Alec’s hopes disintegrated. He knew little salvageable would remain. Steam rose and hissed as some of the water evaporated in the heat. Bricks cracked and a rumble came from inside the building.
“It’s going to collapse!” Alec shouted.
A roar came from within the building as sections dropped. Firemen scattered as bricks came loose and sparks flew.
“Get back!” Felix shouted. “The damned thing is coming down.”
* * * *
“I’d like to go,” Sylvie said to Benjamin as they all sat at a table in the basement shelter in their building. “I need to get a story.”
Benjamin crossed his legs and gave her a cool, sideways look. He sipped his tea and didn’t answer for a long time. They sat alone at the table, and the murmur of others around them barely made an impression on her.
“Asking me a second time isn’t going to get a different answer, Sylvie,” Benjamin said as he put his teacup down with a clatter. “You’ve already sent in more stories in the last couple of days than Pugs and Pendleton combined. All while you weren’t even officially on the payroll. They’ll get jealous soon if you don’t slow down. Besides, they didn’t almost get permanently thrown out of the Savoy.”
She gritted her teeth. She had to watch what she said. She owed Benjamin since he’d managed to calm down the management and explain Sylvie had no part in bringing in Michael Parkins and the communists into the hotel. Sylvie planned to return to the Savoy tonight.
“I don’t know about Pugs, but James doesn’t seem like the kind of man to get jealous. He has plenty of stories on his own,” she said.
Benjamin grunted. “I said no. Leave this room without my permission, and I tell the big boss back in New York you aren’t working out.”
Her mouth dropped open. She’d been treated poorly by men before on the job, but Benjamin’s threats if she didn’t conform took the cake.
She almost huffed and crossed her arms, but thought the better of it. Truth be told, she was seething because he’d sent James and Pug to gather a story on the bombing going on upstairs.
She couldn’t take it anymore, and the idea of stuffing what she felt didn’t appeal. Besides, she’d never been good at stuffing her feelings. “So I’m not allowed to report what I see because two other journalists might get jealous. That is ridiculous.”
“That’s right.”
Additional anger piled on top of other emotions rioting inside her. Since the daytime raid started, she’d feared for Alec. She’d thought she could ignore apprehensions about his safety, but so far she’d failed miserably. That reality was making her almost as angry as not being allowed a story.
“Is this official policy from the paper?” she asked.
He threw her a hard look. “It is my policy. That’s good enough.”
She could threaten to go above his head but knew such an action would only result in more trouble. No, she’d have to play this game wisely.
“Hallo, darling,” said a strong female voice from behind her. “Can I have a word?”
Sylvie turned and greeted Annie Hollister. “Hello, Annie. Did you just get here?”
“I’ve been hiding in the corner. I’m a bit tired today.”
Sylvie welcomed the idea of a chat away from Benjamin. “Let’s talk.”
Benjamin didn’t say a word as the ladies left for another corner. The shelter wasn’t as full as it had been before, so there was enough room in one area to talk without people overhearing.
Happy to be away from Benjamin, Sylvie asked, “So the English Lady isn’t sending anyone out in this mess?”
Annie chuckled and patted the hair escaping her small hat. “Of course not. Last thing in the world they’d do. Remember, it is all Beatrix Potter, tablecloths, etiquette, and how to discipline children.”
Sylvie wrinkled her nose and Annie laughed.
Annie crossed her legs and cupped her hands around her knee. “From the look on your face while you talked with Benjamin, I thought you needed rescuing.”
“You’re right. Thank you.”
“I take it he’s being a royal bastard?”
“Very much. He sent Pugs and James upstairs into the fray. He says the others will get jealous if I get yet another story. I’ve turned in several already.”
“Oh, Lord. I take it they were jealous of the story you got with Michael Parkins?” Annie rolled her eyes. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. He’s absolutely right. Men can be such dimwits, don’t you think?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. “Well…” She looked at the other woman’s wedding ring. “You don’t think that about your husband?”
Annie’s eyes saddened, and Sylvie wished she hadn’t asked.
Annie lifted her gaze to Sylvie’s, but she didn’t answer.
“Oh.” Sylvie felt awkward and tongue-tied. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause discomfort. I just saw your ring and assumed.”
Annie gave her a sad smile. “It’s all right.” She heaved a deep breath.
Sylvie placed her pocketbook and gas mask on the floor next to her and waved one hand in dismissal. “Please, it’s all right. You don’t have to tell me anything. I never meant to cause you pain.”
“You didn’t. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it some time.”
Relieved that she hadn’t damaged her relationship with the woman, Sylvie said, “There’s one thing you can tell me.”
“What is that?”
“You said you were a war correspondent during the Great War. I’d love to hear all about that as well.”
The door opened before Annie could answer, and the Air Warden entered. “The all clear is given.”
As everyone filed out, Sylvie smiled. “I’d love to hear all of it when you’re up to it, Annie.”
Benjamin interrupted. “Back to work with you. We have plenty of work to do.”
“We have plenty of work?” Annie sniffed. “Sylvie would have a lot of work to do if you let her go with Pugs and James.”
Benjamin threw Annie a dirty look. “She’s got enough on her plate.”
“Making tea and coffee?” Annie asked, her voice light and derogatory all at the same time.
Benjamin gave her another disgusted look. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”
Sylvie and Annie hung back and brought up the rear, out of Benjamin’s earshot.
“Lord, he’s a caution,” Annie said sarcastically.
“When I met you, you said he was all right.”
Annie lowered her voice and whispered. “Sorry. He’s right git.”
A woman in front of them turned around and threw Annie a look of disapproval.
“Darling, I know how you can find a story about this daytime raid,” Annie said.
“How?”
“Call your chappie.”
“Who?”
“That gorgeous young AFS man you were with the day I met you. Alec.”
Sylvie felt her face burning. “He’s not my chappie.”
“Semantics, my dear. I can tell the way he looked at you that he considers you his. That should get you a long way.”
“Get me a
long way?”
“Call him.” Annie slipped her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders and squeezed. “Ask him for a story.”
Sylvie hesitated. “Well, that won’t happen until after he’s been here a week or so. I mean in the AFS.”
“Hmm. Maybe. Maybe now is the right time to obtain the raw story. Before he’s become too jaded.”
Sylvie hadn’t thought of that. “All right. I’ll call him.”
Annie squeezed her shoulders and released her. “That’s my girl.”
After she returned to her offices, she looked out the office windows and realized she couldn’t see a lot from her vantage point.
Benjamin hadn’t returned to the office—she had no idea where he’d disappeared. She picked up the phone on James’ desk and connected to the Fleet Street station. A young woman’s voice, sounding far more cheerful than expected, answered the phone.
“Mrs. Higgins, Fleet Street Station.”
“Mrs. Higgins, this is Sylvie Hunnicut from the New York Herald Tribune.”
“Oh, Miss Hunnicut, if you’re looking for the lads, they just left here a sort time ago after interviewing people.”
A quick fire burned in Sylvie at the news. “I see. So they already wrote up a story.”
“Seems like it.”
Sylvie tried a different tactic, eager to hear Alec’s voice. “Mrs. Higgins, I’m a friend of Alec Kent. Would he happen to be there?”
“Oh, well, no he isn’t. He went out on a fire soon after the raid started. Not sure when he’ll be back.”
“All right. Well, thank you.”
“Would you like to leave a message?”
Sylvie stared into space and out the window at the London skyline. “No. No that’s fine. I’m sure he’ll be exhausted when he gets back.”
“If they get back soon, it’ll be a miracle. They usually spend significant time at the site for cleanup and to make certain there are no hot spots.”
“Of course. Well, thank you. I’ll talk to him another time.”
“Good-bye then, Miss Hunnicut.”
After Sylvie hung up, she half wished she was a woman in the AFS. At least then she might have more to do, and she could be part of the action.
One London Night Page 13
