Connie Willis - All Clear

“They do if there’s a UXB,” Alf retorted. “Is ’e ’ere with the bomb squad, Polly?”

“I know who he is,” Trot said, joining Alf and Binnie. “He’s the Prince. He’s come to rescue Sleeping Beauty.”

“Don’t be daft,” Binnie said, while Alf collapsed in laughter. “There ain’t no such thing as Prince Dauntless.”

Oh, yes, there is, Polly thought. And he’s here. In the very nick of time.

“He is so the Prince,” Trot said, and started down the steps on the side of the stage. “I’ll show you.”

“No, you won’t,” Polly said. That was all they needed, the children down here asking questions. “Go change into your christening-scene costumes this instant.”

Trot headed immediately for the wings, followed by Nelson, but Polly should have known better than to think Alf and Binnie would obey her. “Sir Godfrey told us we was s’posed to go on from where we was,” Binnie said.

“I don’t care what he said, Binnie. Go put on your fairy costumes.”

Next to her Colin murmured, “That’s Binnie?”

Even he’s heard of the notorious Hodbins, Polly thought.

“Yes,” she said. “Go change for the christening scene now.”

“I can’t,” Binnie said. “Eileen ain’t back yet.”

Eileen. She’ll be overjoyed at the thought of going home.

“Eileen isn’t here?” Mr. Dunworthy asked.

“No, I think she went to check my drop first,” Polly said.

He and Colin exchanged glances.

“Why?” she asked worriedly. “The raids aren’t over Kensington tonight, are they?”

“No, they’re mostly over the docks,” Colin said.

“We can’t do the christening scene without I’m wearin’ my costume,” Binnie said. “And Eileen said not to put it on till she fixed the wing. It’s broke. Alf was the one what broke it,” she added unnecessarily.

“Put on the costume without the wings,” Polly ordered.

Eileen will be even more overjoyed at not having to cope with the Hodbins than she will be at going home, she thought, and then felt guilty. Alf and Binnie had already lost their mother, and now they were going to lose Eileen. Poor little—

“Eileen said not to,” Binnie said belligerently. “And Sir Godfrey said we was s’posed to go straight through to the end and no stopping.”

“Eileen said not to,” Binnie said belligerently. “And Sir Godfrey said we was s’posed to go straight through to the end and no stopping.”

“And I said go put on your costume,” Polly ordered. “And when Eileen gets here, tell her I need to speak to her.”

“All right, but you’re goin’ to be in trouble,” Binnie muttered darkly.

You’re wrong, Polly thought. We were in trouble, but now Colin’s here.

“Do as I say this instant,” she said, and Alf and Binnie trudged off the stage into the wings.

Polly turned back to Mr. Dunworthy and Colin. “I still can’t believe you’re here, Colin.”

“I can’t either. I had the very devil of a time finding you. Far worse than looking for a needle in a haystack.”

She could imagine. No one at Townsend Brothers would have known where they were, and even if he’d managed to find out they’d lived at Mrs. Rickett’s—

He must have seen the announcement of the pantomime in the newspapers, she thought. Mike had said they’d be reading the newspapers, looking for clues to where—

Oh, God, Mike. “Mr. Dunworthy,” she said, “did you tell him about Mike?”

“He already knew.”

Of course, she thought. He read that in the newspapers as well. Mike Davis, American war correspondent for the Omaha Observer. Died suddenly.

“What about Charles Bowden?” she asked Colin. “He’s in Singapore. He needs to be pulled out before the Japanese Army—”

“His drop was still working,” Colin said. “We pulled him out as soon as we realized something was wrong.”

Oh, thank God. “What about Denys Atherton?”

“He never came through, and neither did Gerald Phipps. Nor Jack Sorkin. Nothing would open. Except your drop, Mr. Dunworthy,” Colin said, “and it stopped working the moment you’d gone through. Till three years ago, we thought the entire war was permanently shut to us.”

Three years ago, Polly thought. And how many years before that had he kept searching, had he refused to give up, even though he’d believed they were permanently lost?

“Merope was right, Polly,” Mr. Dunworthy was saying. “She said our drops would open now that you’d saved Sir Godfrey. I went in to check mine, and there Colin was. I thought at first he was an air-raid warden and he’d seen an incendiary fall on the transept roof and come in to check on it, and then he said, ‘I’ve got to get you out of here, Mr. Dunworthy’, and I realized it was Colin.”

“I’ve got to get you both out of here,” Colin said. “We need to get back to St. Paul’s.”

Polly nodded, wondering why Colin hadn’t sent Mr. Dunworthy on through. He must not have known where the theater was and needed Mr. Dunworthy to show him the way.

“Colin, you need to take Mr. Dunworthy there right now and send him through,” she said. “His deadline’s only ten days off, which means he’s in far more danger than I am. I’ll stay here and wait for Eileen. I’ve got to notify everyone I’m leaving, at any rate. I can’t just go off without telling them. And they’ll have to find someone else to play my part. The pantomime’s in two weeks. I owe it to them …”

She faltered to a stop. I’ll have to tell them all goodbye, she thought sickly. Miss Laburnum and Trot and, oh, God, Sir Godfrey. How can I bear—

“Polly?” Colin said. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” She managed a smile. “I’ll stay here and tell them, and then when Eileen arrives, we’ll come and meet you at St. Paul’s.”

But Mr. Dunworthy was shaking his head. “I want to wait till she comes,” he said, looking at Colin.

Colin nodded. “There’s time.”

There was something here Polly didn’t understand, something they weren’t telling her. “Why is Eileen late?” she asked, remembering Mr. Dunworthy’s ashen look when he first came in and the unhappiness in Colin’s face. “Tell me. Has something happened to her?”

Mr. Dunworthy and Colin exchanged glances.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

“Polly?” Eileen’s voice called from the front of the theater. “Where are you?”

Oh, thank God, Polly thought, whirling to look at the stage.

Eileen came out from the wings in her hat and coat. She must have come in through the stage door. She shaded her eyes, squinting out past the footlights.

“I’m here,” Polly called to her, and before she could tell her, Eileen pattered down the side steps and started up the aisle, asking, “Why aren’t you rehearsing? And where’s the rest of the cast? I hope you haven’t been waiting for me to—Mr. Dunworthy,” she said, spotting him, “what are you doing here? Did something happen at St. Paul’s?”

“No,” Polly said. “Yes. Oh, Eileen, it’s Colin, and he’s here to take us home.”

“Colin?” she said joyfully, and turned to look at him, and as she did, her expression changed to one of—what? Shock? Dismay?

Polly looked questioningly at Colin, but he was staring at Eileen, and all the weariness had returned to his face.

What—? Polly thought, but the next instant she decided she must have been mistaken, that what she’d seen as dismay was only astonishment, because Eileen ran forward to embrace Colin.

“I knew you’d come!” she cried happily. “I told Polly things were happening behind the scenes.” She stood back to take a long, searching look at him and then smiled. “And here you are! I told them they mustn’t give up hope, that you wouldn’t let—” Her voice broke. “I knew you’d pull them out in time.”