All Clear

  “Polly!” Binnie called from the top of the stairs. “Eileen says to hurry!”

  “Coming!” she said. “Sir Godfrey, I—”

  “Polly!” Binnie bellowed.

  She darted forward, kissed Sir Godfrey on the cheek, and ran for the stairs, calling to Binnie, who was leaning over the railing, looking down at her, “Go tell Eileen I’m coming now!”

  Binnie raced off, and Polly ran up the stairs. “Viola!” Sir Godfrey called to her as she reached the top. “Three questions more before we part.”

  She turned to look back down over the railing at him. “ ‘What is your will, my lord?’ ”

  “Did we win the war?”

  She had thought she couldn’t be amazed by anything after Colin, but she had been wrong.

  He knows, she thought wonderingly. He’s known since that first night in St. George’s. “Yes,” she said. “We won it.”

  “And did I play a part?”

  “Yes,” she said with absolute certainty.

  “I didn’t have to do Barrie, did I? No, don’t tell me, or my courage will fail me altogether.”

  Polly’s laugh caught. “Was that your third question?” she managed to ask.

  “No, Polly,” he said. “Something of more import.” And she knew it must be. He had never, except for that one scene in The Admirable Crichton, called her by her real name.

  “What is it?” she asked. Will I ever see you again?

  No.

  Do I love you?

  Yes, for all time.

  He stepped forward and grasped the staircase’s railing, looked up at her earnestly. “Is it a comedy or a tragedy?”

  He doesn’t mean the war, she thought. He’s talking about all of it—our lives and history and Shakespeare. And the continuum.

  She smiled down at him. “A comedy, my lord.”

  There was an ungodly crash from the stage. “Alf! I told you not to touch nothin’!” Binnie shouted.

  “I never! The scrim just fell down.”

  “The scrim!” Sir Godfrey bellowed. “Alf Hodbin, I told you not to mess about with those ropes!”

  “Don’t try to pick it up,” Binnie’s voice warned. “You’ll tear it!”

  “Touch nothing!” Sir Godfrey roared, galloping up the stairs past Polly and out onto the stage, where she could hear Alf and Binnie both insisting, “I didn’t do nothin’! I swear!”

  “ ‘They have all rushed down to the beach,’ ” Polly murmured, looking after him, and then turned and ran down into the theater and up the aisle to where Eileen and Mr. Dunworthy and Colin stood.

  The three of them were standing very near one another, their heads bent, talking, and Polly thought of that first night when she and Mike and Eileen had sat in the emergency stairwell, catching one another up, making plans. “I’m going to get you both out of this, I promise,” Mike had said, and he had.

  He’d died, and because he had, she’d wanted to do something, anything, to make her life matter and had gone to St. Paul’s to ask Mr. Humphreys to help her get a job as an ambulance driver. And because she’d done that, she’d found Mr. Dunworthy and despaired. And if she hadn’t despaired, she would never have been at the Alhambra when the Phoenix was hit, would never have rescued Sir Godfrey, and the drop would never have opened.

  You did save us, Mike, she thought. Just as you promised.

  She reached the group. Eileen had been crying. She wiped clumsily at her cheeks as Polly joined them, and then smiled at her. “Are you ready?” Eileen asked.

  No, Polly thought. “Yes.”

  “Are you certain?” Colin said. “I know how hard this must be for you. We haven’t a lot of time, but we’ve enough for you to say goodbye, if there’s anyone else you need to—”

  I love you, Polly thought.

  “No, I’m ready.” She looked back at the stage, where the children, Sir Godfrey, Mr. Dorming, and Nelson were struggling with the collapsed scrim.

  “Should we help them?” Colin asked her.

  “No, we’ll never get away if we do. Let’s go,” she said, and turned to start up the aisle, and oh, no, here came Miss Laburnum.

  “It’s all right, you needn’t go for the carpenter, Polly,” she said. “I found him at last, and he’ll be here shortly. Is the scrim still stuck?”

  “No,” Polly said dryly.

  “No, no, no!” Sir Godfrey bellowed and Miss Laburnum looked down at the stage.

  “Oh, good heavens! What happened?” She started down the aisle.

  “We need to go,” Colin said quietly to Polly. “We haven’t got much time.”

  She nodded. “I’m ready,” she said.

  “Go?” Binnie, who’d been on the stage only a moment ago, said at Polly’s elbow. “Where are you all going?” and Miss Laburnum immediately turned and hurried back up the aisle toward them.

  Alf jumped off the stage and tore up the aisle after her, with Trot—and Nelson, barking wildly—in his wake. “Are you goin’ someplace?” he called.

  And now how are we going to get out of here? Polly thought.

  “Has something happened?” Miss Laburnum asked, seeming to take in Colin’s ARP uniform for the first time.

  “Yes,” Polly said. “I’m sorry to let you all down, but—”

  “This is Polly’s fiancé,” Eileen cut in.

  “Are you going to marry Polly?” Trot asked him.

  “Yes,” he said. “If she hasn’t fallen in love with someone else in the meantime.”

  “He’s unexpectedly come home on leave, Miss Laburnum,” Eileen was explaining.

  And has gone to work for the ARP? Polly thought, but Miss Laburnum apparently hadn’t noticed the oddness of that, or the sudden appearance of a fiancé Polly had never mentioned before.

  “Oh, my, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.—” She looked expectantly at Polly.

  “Lieutenant Templer,” Eileen volunteered.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Laburnum,” Colin said. “Polly’s told me about all your kindnesses to her.”

  “Ain’t we gonna get to meet ’im?” Alf demanded.

  “This is Alf, Trot, and Binnie,” Polly said, indicating each in turn.

  “Vivien,” Binnie corrected. “Like Vivien Leigh.”

  “Alf, Trot, and Vivien,” Polly said resignedly, and Colin shook hands with Alf and then Trot.

  “Did you look for Polly for a hundred years?” Trot asked.

  “Nearly,” he replied, and turned to Binnie. “It’s an honor to meet you, Vivien,” he said solemnly, and Binnie shot Polly a triumphant glance.

  “Why can’t you be in the pantomime?” Alf asked Polly.

  “Can’t be in the pantomime?” Miss Laburnum said, alarmed. “Oh, but Miss Sebastian, you can’t desert us now. Whom shall we find to play the part of principal boy?”

  “I’ll do it,” Binnie said. “I know all the lines.”

  “Don’t be a noddlehead,” Alf said. “You ain’t old enough.”

  “I am so.”

  “You’re already a fairy,” Eileen said, “and a bramblebush. You’re too important to the pantomime to play any other parts,” and before Alf could put in his twopence worth, “Alf, go and tell Sir Godfrey that the carpenter will be here in just a moment. And help him put the scrim back up in the meantime. Take Trot with you. And Nelson.”

  Which was a cruel thing to do to poor Sir Godfrey, but at least it got rid of Alf for the moment. Now if they could only get rid of Miss Laburnum, who was saying, “But we shall never be able to find another principal boy at this late date. I entreat you, Miss Sebastian. Think of how disappointed the children will be.”

  “I ain’t a child,” Binnie said, “and I am so old enough to play the Prince. Listen.” She flung her bramble-covered arms out dramatically. “ ‘Long years ’ave I searched—’ ”

  “Hush,” Eileen said. “Go and fetch Polly’s costume and bring it to me.”

  Binnie took off at a run toward the stage, and Eileen turned t
o Miss Laburnum. “I’ll substitute for her.”

  “But you can’t,” Polly blurted out. “You’re going with us,” and then she could have kicked herself because Binnie was tearing back up the aisle, demanding, “What does she mean, you’re goin’ with them, Eileen? You ain’t goin’ away, are you?”

  “No. She was talking about my going to her wedding,” Eileen said glibly. “She and Lieutenant Templer are going to be married, and I should love to go, but someone has to stay behind to do the pantomime.” She turned to Polly and Colin. “You must promise to write me all about the wedding.”

  “Wedding?” Miss Laburnum said to Polly. “You’re being married? Oh, well then, of course you must go! But couldn’t the wedding wait till after the performance? Sir Godfrey had his heart set on—”

  Eileen shook her head. “She hasn’t time. There are licenses to get and arrangements and things—”

  Colin nodded. “We’re going to see Dean Matthews now.”

  “And Lieutenant Templer only has a twenty-four-hour leave,” Eileen said smoothly, “but it’s all right. I can play the Prince. Binnie will help me with my lines, won’t you, Binnie?”

  What are you doing? Don’t lie to Binnie, Polly thought, even if we do need to get out of here. She’s already had too many betrayals, too many abandonments.

  “Eileen—” she said warningly.

  “Binnie,” Eileen said, ignoring her, “go fetch Polly’s costume and bring it to me. You’d best go with her, Miss Laburnum. The doublet will need to be taken up. I’m shorter than Polly.”

  Miss Laburnum nodded and started down the aisle. “Come, Binnie.”

  Binnie stayed where she was. “When I had the measles, you said you wouldn’t leave,” she said. “You promised.”

  “I know,” Eileen said.

  “The vicar says breaking a promise is a sin.”

  Tell her sometimes it’s not possible to keep promises, Polly willed her. Tell her—

  “The vicar’s right,” Eileen said. “It is a sin. I’m not leaving, Binnie.”

  “You swear you’re stayin’?” Binnie said.

  “I swear,” Eileen said, and smiled at her. “Who’d take care of you and Alf if I left? Now, go with Miss Laburnum.” And Binnie ran off after her.

  This time Polly waited until she was certain they were out of earshot and then said, “You shouldn’t have lied to her. It isn’t fair. You owe it to her to tell her that you’re leaving.”

  “I can’t tell her that,” Eileen said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not going back with you.”

  Parting is such sweet sorrow.

  —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO AND JULIET

  London—19 April 1941

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT GOING BACK?” POLLY said, staring at Eileen standing there calmly in the theater aisle. She looked from Colin to Mr. Dunworthy. “What does she mean?”

  “I’ve decided to stay,” Eileen said.

  “Because they need a principal boy?” Polly burst out. “They can get Mrs. Brightford to play the Prince. Or Binnie. She knows all the lines. And how do we know the drop will open again after the pantomime’s over? You can’t—”

  “I’m not staying till after the pantomime, Polly. I’m staying for good.” She looked at Colin and Mr. Dunworthy. “It’s already settled.”

  “Settled? What are you talking about?”

  “Remember how you saw me in Trafalgar Square on VE-Day? I wasn’t there because we hadn’t been rescued. I was there because I stayed behind.”

  “No, you weren’t. There could be a dozen other reasons why you were there that day. You could have been there on some other assignment, or—”

  Eileen laughed, a clear, happy laugh. “Oh, Polly, you know Mr. Dunworthy would never let me go anywhere again after this. If I want to go to VE-Day, I’m going to need to do it from here. Isn’t that right, Mr. Dunworthy?” she asked, smiling at him.

  He was looking solemnly at her.

  He’s going to let her stay, Polly thought incredulously. But he can’t.

  “This is ridiculous, Eileen,” she said. “I don’t even know for certain it was you. I was halfway across Trafalgar Square. It might have been someone else entirely—”

  “In my green coat,” Eileen said.

  “Someone could have bought it at an applecart upset,” Polly said. “You said yourself it was perfect for a redhead.”

  Eileen shook her head. “It was me. I have to be there so everything else can happen.”

  “But there must be some other way,” Polly said, appealing to Colin. “You can’t let her—”

  “That isn’t the only reason I’m staying,” Eileen said. “There’s Alf and Binnie. I promised the vicar, Mr. Goode, that I’d look after them, and I can’t let him down.”

  “But there must be someone else who could take them, the rector or Mrs. Wyvern or someone,” Polly said, knowing even as she said it that it was impossible. She had already lost this argument when Eileen took them in.

  “There isn’t,” Eileen said. “Binnie’s growing up far too fast as it is, and by next year England will be overrun with American soldiers. I can’t abandon her—or Alf—in the middle of a war.”

  Which they might not live through even if you do stay, Polly thought. Neither Alf nor Binnie had been with Eileen on VE-Day in Trafalgar Square. But if she told her that, it would only make her more determined to stay and try to protect them.

  “And if Alf’s left on his own,” Eileen was saying, “he’s likely to end up destroying the entire space-time continuum.” She smiled. “Don’t you see? I can’t leave them. There’s still a war on. And they saved my life.”

  And mine, Polly thought. And England’s. And knew there was no way to talk Eileen out of this.

  “But you hate it here,” she said tearfully. “The raids and the rationing and the dreadful food. You said believing you’d be able to go home someday was the only thing that kept you going.”

  “I know, but wars require sacrifices. And this spot in history’s not so bad. It is, after all, England’s finest hour. And I’ll get to see VE-Day, which I always wanted to go to.”

  “But—”

  “Please try to understand,” Eileen said, taking Polly’s hands. “You’ve done your job by saving Sir Godfrey. My job’s not finished yet, and I can’t do it unless I stay here.”

  “That isn’t true. Colin, tell her she has to—”

  “He can’t,” Eileen said. “He knows I stayed.” She looked at him again. “Don’t you?”

  Colin didn’t answer.

  “Mr. Dunworthy knows it, too,” Eileen said, turning to him. “That’s why you risked your life coming back here to the theater with Colin instead of staying at St. Paul’s and going through to Oxford, isn’t it? To say goodbye to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “But … I don’t understand,” Polly said, looking helplessly from one to the other. “What’s she talking about?”

  “I was the one who told Colin where we were,” Eileen said. “Wasn’t I?”

  And when he didn’t answer, “He found me after the war, and I told him where you were. He’d never have been able to find us otherwise. So you see, I’ve got to stay. I’ve got to be here when he comes to look for me.”

  “Is that true, Colin?” Polly said. “Did Eileen tell you where we were?”

  He still didn’t answer.

  “Did she?” Polly demanded. “Tell me. Did she stay here in the past to tell you we were here?”

  “Yes,” he said. “She did.”

  She turned on Eileen. “You sacrificed yourself to save Mr. Dunworthy and me?” she said angrily. “How could you do that? How could you think I—?”

  “It wasn’t a sacrifice. Polly, you have no idea how much I’ve despised being helpless, how much I’ve hated knowing you and Mr. Dunworthy were going to die and not being able to stop it. You saved my life that night at Padgett’s and, oh, dozens of times since then—especially after
Mike died—but I couldn’t do anything to save yours.”

  She clasped Polly’s hands. “But there was something I could—I can—do. I can stay here. I can find Colin and tell him where you are,” she said, her face radiant. “And I’m so glad!”

  That’s what they were telling her while I was gone, Polly thought, remembering Eileen wiping away tears as she came up the aisle.

  “You shouldn’t have told her,” she said bitterly to them. “It’s not fair to put a burden like that on her—”

  “No one told me,” Eileen said. “I knew it the moment I saw Colin.”

  Just as I knew it was him, Polly thought, that he’d come to rescue us.

  And that was why he had looked so sad, so careworn. Because he knew Eileen wasn’t coming with them. Because he’d already seen her, years from now. She had already told him where they were.

  It’s already happened, she thought, all of it, Eileen’s staying here and VE-Day and Colin’s asking her where we were. It’s all already happened, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

  But she had to try. “I’m not going without you, Eileen,” she said.

  “You’re right, you’re not. I’ll always be there with you,” Eileen said briskly, as if she were sending her off to school like Alf and Binnie. “Now go. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Oh, my goodness, what about ENSA? Mr. Tabbitt—”

  “I’ll tell him you were transferred to a touring troupe or something. Go.”

  There was a whistling screech and then a crump, and the theater shook slightly.

  Eileen looked up at the ceiling. “The raids sound like they’re growing worse, and I won’t have you blown up now after all the work I’ve done—will do—to get you out of here. And if I know Alf and Binnie, they’ll be banned from the stage at any moment and come tearing up here to ask all sorts of questions, and you’ll never get away in time.”

  She hugged Mr. Dunworthy. “Goodbye. You take care to rest and get well.”

  “I will, my dear.”

  “Polly, eat lots of eggs and bacon for me, and heaps of sugar.” She hugged her tightly. “And be happy.”

  “ ‘This is a comedy, not a tragedy,’ ” Polly murmured.