A Fire Sparkling

by MacLean, Julianne

  “I don’t know. Do you think that’s part of Hitler’s plan? To exhaust us into surrendering?”

  “Maybe.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the drone of airplanes overhead and the noisy antiaircraft guns shooting through searchlights in the sky. Seconds later they heard the frightening scream of a bomb falling through the air like a mighty howling wind, followed by an explosion that shook the ground and made them both jump.

  “That sounded close,” Vivian said, bolting to her feet and losing her breath. “I think something was hit on our street.” She stared at the door, feeling helpless and desperate to know if their neighbors were all right.

  “You can’t go out there,” April said. “Sit back down. We’ll open the door when the All Clear sounds.”

  Vivian’s heart raced, but she tried to be calm as she sat down.

  “I’m glad that your Ludwig isn’t a bomber pilot,” she said. “I don’t think I could forgive him if I ever met him, knowing what he did to our city.”

  April offered no response. She merely lay down on the cot and rolled to her side to face the corrugated metal wall.

  The All Clear didn’t come until sunrise. It was rather miraculous, but April and Vivian had managed to doze off sometime after three a.m., despite the constant noise of the planes overhead and the racket of the antiaircraft guns. It must have been pure and total exhaustion that allowed them to sleep through it, especially knowing that something may have been bombed on their street.

  Warily, they rose from their cots and opened the door, emerging into the hazy morning light. Their house was still standing with no apparent damage, but when they ventured out the front door and looked up the street toward the Strand, their neighborhood was unrecognizable. Three houses were blown to bits. There was nothing left but piles of broken bricks and dust and timber beams sticking out of the ruins. Rescue workers in tin helmets were picking through the rubble, digging for survivors.

  April started walking quickly toward the devastation, while Vivian stood in a mental fog, dumbfounded and paralyzed with shock. Eventually she shook herself out of the trance and hurried to follow her sister, crunching over broken glass on the sidewalk and gaping at a massive fifty-foot crater in the middle of the street, where the cobblestones had exploded in all directions.

  “Was anyone inside?” April asked one of the ARP wardens.

  He paused to remove his helmet and rake his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. “We’ve recovered three bodies so far. Had to remove them with a shovel.” His eyes widened, and his gaze darted to Vivian with a look of panic. “I do beg your pardon, ma’am. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been a rough night.” He made the sign of the cross over his chest while a dog sniffed through the rubble, barking incessantly.

  Vivian reached out to touch the warden’s arm. “Please, don’t apologize. What you’re doing takes great courage. Can we bring you anything? I live just down the street. Some tea perhaps? And biscuits?”

  “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. We’ll go and fetch a thermos.”

  When she turned, April was gone. Vivian scanned the length of the street, then spotted her sister halfway home, bent over and retching her guts out on the cobblestones.

  “Did you see something horrible?” Vivian asked as she followed April upstairs to her bedroom. “Is that what made you sick? Or is it something else?”

  She assumed April knew what she was talking about.

  April climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her ears. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Is it what I think it is?”

  Her sister rolled to her side, facing away from her. “Yes.”

  A wave of anger washed through Vivian’s bloodstream as she stood motionless, staring. “Are you sure, April? Have you been to see a doctor?”

  “No, I haven’t seen a doctor, but yes, I’m sure. I’m late.” Her voice was muffled in the feather pillow. “It must have happened in Paris, just before I left him.”

  Vivian bowed her head in disbelief. “Oh, April. How could you have been so careless?”

  April faced her at last. “I wasn’t. We were always very careful. I don’t know how it happened.”

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, Vivian walked to the window. She looked out at a group of young boys standing in a circle on the street, passing around a piece of shrapnel.

  “What in the world are we going to do?” she asked.

  “We?” April spoke firmly. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

  “You’re my sister, and you’re living under my roof, so it’s my problem too.” She moved to the stool in front of the dressing table and sat down. “Oh, April,” she said with a breathless sigh. “Why is this happening? The war . . . the bombs . . . all this conflict and fighting. And now you’re pregnant with a German officer’s baby. It’s too much. It feels like the whole world is falling apart.”

  Fiercely independent and always so full of pride, April sat up against the pillows. “Like I said, it’s not your problem, and I won’t let it spoil things for you and Theodore. I’ll work it out myself.”

  “How? How will you work it out?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out.”

  Vivian sat for a moment, wondering how her sister planned to deal with this. With a sigh of defeat, she stood up. “I promised tea for the men up the street. I’m going to take care of that, and then I’ll come back here, and we can discuss what we’re going to do.”

  Thankfully, April didn’t argue. She simply watched Vivian walk out. But there was nothing docile about April’s response. Vivian felt quite certain that April had already made up her mind about her future, and nothing she or Theodore said would make one lick of difference. April was stubborn and tenacious, and when she wanted something, there was no getting in her way. The only question was—what did April want?

  Not long after Vivian returned with an empty thermos and a basket filled with cups to wash, Theodore walked into the house. He found her at the sink in the downstairs kitchen.

  “You’re here,” she said, surprised to see him. She walked straight into his arms. “Did you see the damage on the street? We were in the shelter last night, and we felt the ground shake.”

  He kissed the top of her head and stepped back to look into her eyes. “Where’s April?”

  “Upstairs. Why?”

  “Tell her to come down. I need to speak with her immediately.”

  Recognizing the urgency in her husband’s tone, Vivian left her washing and hurried to the third floor, where she found April seated at her dressing table, putting on a pair of earrings.

  “You need to come downstairs. Theodore’s here, and he wants to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t ask him?”

  Vivian shook her head.

  “You didn’t tell him about my problem, did you?” April asked.

  “No. He only just walked in the door. But you have to come right away. He seemed impatient. I don’t know why.”

  April stood and followed Vivian downstairs to the parlor, where they found Theodore at the hearth, his arm resting along the mantelpiece.

  “April,” he said, “I have a question for you, and I need you to be honest with me. Did you try to send a telegram to a German officer in Paris? He is a lieutenant colonel. His name is Ludwig Albrecht.”

  April started to shake her head, then hesitated. “How do you know about that?”

  Vivian sank onto a chair and hung her head in her hands. “April. Tell me you didn’t.”

  April raised her chin defiantly. “I did. But there was nothing harmful in it. Nothing harmful against England, I mean. It was personal.”

  Theodore began to pace. “Yes, I gathered that, and perhaps there was nothing intentionally treacherous in it, but it doesn’t matter what I think. MI5 agents will be knocking on that door wi
thin the hour and placing you under arrest.”

  “What?” April’s face reddened. “Why? I told you it was personal.”

  Vivian leaped to her feet. “What will they do to her?”

  “Interrogate her, quite thoroughly, until they satisfy themselves that there were no hidden messages sent in code. Then—providing they believe that it was all innocent—they may send her to an internment camp on the Isle of Man to ride out the war, because she will be deemed a security risk.” His eyes darkened as he glared at April. “The fact that you are carrying a Nazi officer’s child does raise some doubts about where your loyalties may lie, should an invasion occur.”

  Vivian’s pulse accelerated. “How do you know about that? She hasn’t even been to see a doctor. I only found out this morning.”

  “It was in the telegram we intercepted yesterday,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  Vivian swung around to face her sister. “That was very foolish.”

  “Yes, I see that now,” April replied, far too calmly as she turned and crossed to the window to look out onto the street.

  Vivian turned to Theodore. “You said they would arrive within the hour?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then she can’t be here. She has to go. April, go and pack a bag.”

  “No!” Theodore shouted, taking a furious step forward. “She must go with them and cooperate. If she flees, it will be considered a clear sign of guilt, and they will spare nothing until they capture her, and then, I assure you, the situation will be far worse. Listen to me, Vivian. If I am here when they take her, I will do my best to use my influence and convince them that it was an innocent love letter and that she is simply naive.”

  “What if they don’t believe you?” Vivian asked. “And even if they do, you already said they would send her to a prison camp in the North. That can’t happen. Not when she’s expecting a child. A German child. Imagine how she will be treated!”

  “It’s far better than the alternative,” Theodore argued, “which is execution if they decide she is guilty of treason. And packing a bag and running off this morning will most definitely convince them of that. She won’t get far. This is an island, and we are at war. They’ll be searching for her everywhere. You both need to listen to reason. She must submit completely and cooperate, and I promise that I will do my best, quietly, to ensure she is treated well.”

  Vivian frowned. “What do you mean ‘quietly’? Obviously, you’re worried about your reputation in the government. You don’t want it to be known that your sister-in-law is a Nazi sympathizer and has been living in your house for weeks.”

  April turned around when she heard that. “I’m not a Nazi sympathizer.”

  “I won’t lie,” Theodore said. “That is something I must take into account.”

  “Is that why you’re advising her to cooperate?” Vivian asked, as if April weren’t even in the room. “So that it will look like you helped to expose her and turn her in?”

  “No, Vivian. That is not the case at all. In fact, I took a great risk coming home this morning to tell you this. But I couldn’t let it happen without giving you some warning, because I love you, and your happiness matters to me. Do you not see that?”

  “No, quite frankly, I don’t. Not when you are advising my sister to submit and go to prison.”

  “What else do you suggest?” he asked.

  “I don’t know! We could help her escape and stay hidden. She could go to the country. Perhaps your family could help. They have property. They must have a quiet cottage somewhere.”

  “You’re dreaming.”

  “Perhaps. But you tried to convince us to leave London and go and stay with your family. Can’t we do that now?”

  “That was different.”

  April moved into the center of the room. “Stop it. Both of you. I don’t want you fighting over me, and please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here, as if you are the ones to decide my next step. It’s not up to either of you. I already know what I want to do.” She turned to Theodore. “Thank you for coming home to warn us, but you should go back to work now.”

  She turned and walked out.

  “Why?” Theodore asked, following her to the bottom of the stairs.

  April was already halfway up. “Because you shouldn’t know what I’m doing.”

  “But it’s obvious!” he shouted. “You are about to do exactly what Vivian suggested and pack a bag!”

  April disappeared up the next flight of stairs. Theodore turned to Vivian. “God help her if she tries to go back to France, but I have a feeling that’s her intention. You have to do something. Try to talk her out of it. Convince her to go quietly with the officials when they arrive.”

  “No, I will not,” Vivian said, shaking her head. “But I will agree with you on one count. I don’t want her to go back to France. I just want her to be safe, here in England.”

  “And be a fugitive in her own country? You can’t have both, Vivian.”

  Just then, an air raid siren began to wail.

  “Not again,” Vivian said, looking up at the ceiling.

  Theodore crossed to the window and looked outside, where people were hurrying down the street toward the Underground station.

  “We need to go to the shelter,” he said. “Go and fetch your sister. God willing, this might hold off her arrest until the All Clear sounds. That will at least give us a chance to talk some sense into her.”

  As he turned away from the window, they both heard the horrifying drone of heavy bombers overhead, followed by the whistle of a bomb dropping from the sky.

  Vivian froze, and Theodore reached for her hand just as a thunderous explosion blew a giant hole in the back of the house. The noise was deafening, like a steam train rushing by at full speed, then crashing into a cement wall. Windows blew out, and doors flew off their hinges. Glass shattered. The slate roof tiles exploded like shrapnel, and the entire structure collapsed, each floor dropping sequentially onto the floor below.

  Silence followed beneath a mushroom cloud of dust.

  Vivian woke to the sound of her heart beating in her chest like a bass drum. She blinked a few times until her eyes opened to a narrow strip of light. Her lungs burned as she sucked in masonry dust. What just happened? Her chest felt tight. It was difficult to breathe, but there was no pain. Only numbness. Paralysis.

  “Theodore?” Her voice was hoarse. Her throat felt constricted. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  Ambulance sirens wailed in the distance. There was a dog barking somewhere . . . the scrape of bricks being moved and tossed aside . . .

  Her sister’s voice. “Vivian!”

  Thank God . . .

  “April?” she answered weakly. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I’m coming. Hold on.” April removed a few more bricks and lobbed them onto another pile, but still, Vivian could barely get any air into her lungs. Every breath came short and burned in her throat.

  “Something’s on top of my chest,” Vivian said. “It’s so heavy. I’m scared, April.”

  “Don’t be scared. I’m here now.” There was desperation in April’s voice as she dug through the rubble.

  Some of the pressure eased off, but nothing helped Vivian to breathe. “Where’s Theodore?”

  April didn’t answer the question. She was grunting, lifting countless more bricks. Vivian listened to the hollow sound of each one as it struck another.

  “Theodore . . . ?” She spoke in a raspy cough.

  “He’s over there,” April replied. “The blast was strong.”

  April went still for a few seconds. Then she grunted in pain and dropped to her knees beside Vivian. She took hold of her hand. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t get you out. There’s a timber beam on top of you. I need to go for help.”

  “No. Please don’t leave me. Theodore will help you. Theodore!” She began to cough again.

  April’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Vivian. He can’t hear you. He’s . . .
he’s gone. Please save your strength.”

  “What?” Vivian didn’t understand. She was confused, light headed. Disoriented. She could barely see. She knew her eyes were open and there was light, but nothing else.

  “Please just try to hold on,” April cried. “Help is coming.”

  The dog was still barking. He seemed quite distraught.

  April was weeping now. She curled her body close to Vivian and wrapped her arms around her.

  “I feel your tears on my face,” Vivian whispered gently.

  April let out a sob and kissed her on the forehead. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. I can’t exist in the world if you’re not here.”

  Vivian wished there was something she could do to comfort her sister, but she was fighting for every breath. Then suddenly, it felt as if she’d been plunged into a cold bath, but at least there was no pain.

  “Theodore?”

  April had said he was gone, but she must have been mistaken because Vivian felt him nearby. “Listen . . . do you hear it?” Vivian turned her face toward April’s. “It’s the All Clear. Everything’s going to be fine now.”

  “Yes,” April replied shakily. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Vivian felt safe in her sister’s arms, and she was no longer afraid. At least not for herself. But she was afraid for April.

  “Listen to me, April,” Vivian said. “You have to take my wedding ring.”

  “What?” April tried to sit up.

  “I need to know you’ll be all right, so take the ring off my finger and put it on yours.”

  “Why?”

  “Because men are coming to arrest you, and they’ll take you away, and we can’t let that happen. You need to be safe to take care of your baby.”

  “I don’t understand,” April said, weeping harder. “What are you telling me to do?”

  “Take my ring,” Vivian ordered. “Tell them you’re me. Theodore provided for me in his will. There’s a lifetime annuity. And you won’t be arrested.”

  “I can’t do that,” April argued as she sobbed inconsolably. “And you’re going to be all right, Vivian. Please! Stay with me!”