Page 17 of Beloved Beast

“You will come back soon?” Joan whispered.

Bloody hell, yes. “Too right I will.”

As he strode down the walkway, Fred had an extra spring to his step. For the first time in years, he felt alive.

Chapter 7

Luke drove around the city for another two hours. Glancing at the gauge, he frowned at the needle hovering above the E, showing he was almost out of petrol. A good thing they were switching vehicles tomorrow. As for the green Austin Eight, it had disappeared by the time they left the teashop. “As far as I understand,” he had explained to Gillian, “these operatives often follow random autos seen leaving the vicinity of fifty-four Broadway on the outside chance they might happen upon one of our agents. I believe that is what they were doing with us. When we stopped at the teashop, they must have decided we were not worth following and were assigned elsewhere.”

Because of his explanation, Luke decided it was safe enough to head north to his attic loft. As he drove, he went over the list of upcoming tasks. First order of business was hiding the car in his landlord’s shed. Then wait for a word on where to pick up the vehicle they would be using to drive to Charlwood. On their way out of the city tomorrow, they would have to pick up Gillian’s meager belongings at one of SIS’s warehouses in south London. Hopefully the information would be included with where to collect the car. Luke had argued for taking the train, but Fred wanted him to have his own transport in case a hasty escape was needed.

“Luke, would you mind stopping at the next chemist’s you see? Or would there be any open?”

He turned to glance at Gillian. “Are you not feeling well?”

“Nothing serious. Perhaps you have headache powder at your place? That will do.”

He didn’t since he wasn’t bothered with simple human maladies such as headaches or pains of any kind. Due to his possible changed state of being, he was disgustingly healthy. He didn’t even suffer from dyspepsia. “Unfortunately, I do not have any. But I know of a chemist who will open for me. We are nearby, on the Bethnal Green Road.”

“Thank you. Are we still in the East End?” she asked.

“Yes, but earlier we were not. Are you sure you are all right?” He didn’t like the thought she may be in discomfort. An overwhelming desire to look after her and see to her needs gripped him. And it surprised him.

“Women’s complaints,” she murmured.

Ah. Being married for thirty-seven years he knew of what she spoke. Before he could reply, the air raid siren sounded, the noise reverberating painfully in his head. Damn. He should have expected it, seeing the RAF completed a bombing raid over Berlin two nights ago. London braced for retaliation, hence the sirens going off last night as well. Double damn, he should have made sure they were back at his place before now. Luke pulled the car over and put it in park. Where to go? “We must get to a shelter,” he said. “Would you rather the tube station? It’s not far along this street.”

“Thank you. I can’t abide the smaller shelters. I don’t do well in crowds, you see. Or enclosed places.”

The Bethnal Green station was brand new. Nearly completed, the tracks were about to be laid when the war broke out. Construction halted and the government decided to use the station as a permanent shelter. Over five thousand bunk beds were set up, along with chemical loos, a library, canteen, and a medical facility. A small town beneath the city. Luke checked his watch: around quarter past eight. All the street lights went out, cloaking them in darkness. Out of habit, Luke had been driving with his headlights off anyway due to blackout regulations. A good thing he could see well in the dark.

Pulling the keys from the ignition, he said, “We’d best hurry. There are a lot of people milling about. The shelter will fill up quickly.”

Gillian hesitated, he could sense her apprehension as her heart banged at a rapid pace. He clasped her gloved hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Stay close and hold my hand. All will be well. It will be like last night, a false alarm. I am almost sure of it.” He whispered in her ear, “I think we can forgo the old woman disguise for now. At least, as far as walking. Come, let us hurry.”

They sprinted across the street as two double-decker buses stopped in the middle of Bethnal Green Road. Luke frowned. There would be quite a crowd heading for the shelter as people were also pouring out of the nearby pub and cinema. In all the pandemonium, he could not see any Bobbies or Air Raid Precaution wardens. Vigilance caused him to halt briefly, and Gillian stared up at him in question. He could see her puzzled expression through the lace of the veil. Perhaps they should seek out another shelter. Yet, she could not abide crowds. There was certainly one forming here. If memory served, once they got down below there would be plenty of room.

“Do not let go of my hand. It is going to be crowded when we enter, but it will be better once we get beneath. I’ve read it is quite self-contained and spacious. Are you up to it?” he asked.

Biting her lower lip, she nodded and squeezed his hand. “Yes. I’ll manage.”

Luke pushed his way through the crowd; they were closing in all around him and moving forward far too fast. Gillian’s quick, sharp intake of breath told him she was affected already by the vast amount of people. There was only the one entrance. They had no choice but to use it. They were jostled as they traveled toward the doors. As they entered, Luke was shocked at how dark it was. Only one bare bulb flickered overhead, barely twenty-five watts. The blue tinge from the light cast an eerie pall over the crowd.

Something didn’t feel right to him. His gut alarm tolled at a distressing and insistent clang. Since it was completely dark, people slowed as they descended the stairs, as if not completely sure of their footing. Yet above, people still poured into the tube station. It hit him with a sudden clarity. Nobody was safe. Not he and Gillian nor any of the public seeking shelter.

Suddenly, a barrage of rockets sounded in the air. The loud noise caused absolute and utter chaos.

“It’s a bomb. We’re being bombed,” people shouted. Screams and cries of panic permeated the air as everyone started shoving and surging forward. The volley of rockets was like nothing Luke had ever heard before. They weren’t German, unless they were using a new type of weapon or aircraft. Luke turned his head toward the sound. It came from the Victoria Park area; the army must be returning fire. Or maybe they spotted the Luftwaffe in the air about to commence with a bombing run.

In response to the frightening noise, the crowd advanced, pushing on the people standing on the stairs. Everyone in front of him fell forward like a line of dominos. Luke was soon drawn to another sound. Blood-curdling screams turned to groans, then whimpers. Clasping Gillian’s hand tighter, he tried to head to the entrance, but the force of the crowd pushed him forward. With his extreme strength, he held his ground as overlapping, terrified voices from the bottom of the stairs reached his enhanced hearing. “I can’t breathe, get off me. Mama, where are you? Help!”

Jesus. More people fell forward and screams filled the air once again. He pulled Gillian toward the far wall and realized with a sickening lurch of his guts they were walking on fallen bodies. “Get back,” he yelled. “Everyone get outside!” But it was hard to be heard above the din of shouts and exploding artillery. Luke fought toward the exit, but even with his beyond human strength, he could not struggle through the solid wall of panicked people.

It hit him. He couldn’t leave, not without trying to help in some way. With the decision made, he shoved Gillian against the wall. “Stay here; do not move from this spot.”

She frantically clasped his hand. “Don’t leave me here. Please, Luke.”

He gently pulled his hand from hers. “I will only be a moment. I swear it.”