The Restoration Garden: A Novel - 30

Irene

The German attack didn’t stop. More and more planes covered the skies until it seemed like the entire city was blanketed. It was impossible to tell how many of them were RAF, fighting to protect us. Bombs fell in a cacophonous storm, filling the air with the acrid scent of death and destruction. People scrambled for underground shelters, only to be turned away when they were full. There was nowhere safe. Nowhere to go.

Smoke and dust filled my lungs as I ran through the dimming streets. Dusk was settling like a shroud. How long would this go on? How much suffering could we possibly face?

All I knew was I had to get the briefcase to Roger. He was the only one who would know what to do with it. I couldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands.

His flat in Marylebone was a last resort—he had given me the address for emergencies only. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a brief journey. But tonight, with so many roads reduced to rubble, it took me nearly an hour to reach it.

By some miracle, I arrived at the building unscathed. I could only hope he was still there. I had no other plan.

As soon as I entered the building’s foyer, I saw him. He wore a hat that shadowed his face and dark clothes that blended into the dim surroundings, but I instantly recognized him from the broad set of his shoulders. For the first time all day, the knot in my stomach loosened.

I had barely taken a step inside of the shadows when I heard his voice. “What are you doing here?”

I froze. He wasn’t speaking to me. Someone else was here.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” came a familiar voice.

James. The air rushed from my lungs.

“What a strange question to ask someone in their own home,” Roger said calmly, lighting a cigarette, seemingly unaffected by the tension crackling around him.

“Lying doesn’t suit you. Nor does your disloyalty,” James shot back, his voice sharp and cutting.

Roger took a slow drag on his cigarette, seemingly unfazed by James’s accusation. “You forget I was never loyal to you. I’ve always been loyal to the Crown.”

“All this time, I thought you were nothing more than a sniveling twat desperately clinging to my coattails. I only allowed you into our circle because I pitied you. And occasionally because I enjoyed taking the piss out of you.”

“I’ve known what kind of man you are from the beginning. It was no surprise to any of us that you would betray your country so callously.”

“Enough. Where’s Irene?”

How did James know I would come here? Had he known all along I was working for Roger?

Roger tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his foot. “Have you lost track of your new toy so quickly?”

I knew Roger was baiting him, but the comment pierced my heart nonetheless. I had been nothing but a toy to James. A doll for him to manipulate and play with. But I had managed to play him in return. I had the undeniable evidence of James’s involvement in a conspiracy too.

Roger straightened abruptly, jolted by something I couldn’t see. I took another step forward, angling for a better view. My heart crashed in my chest. In James’s hand was a pistol.

“Tell me where she is,” James repeated.

“She’s long gone. The evidence she had has already been given to the bureau. This time not even your uncle will be able to get you out of Holloway.”

Roger was buying me time to get away, I realized with a jolt. I needed to run, but my legs had rooted to the ground like tree stumps, too heavy with fear to move.

“You’re lying,” James hissed.

Run, you fool. Run before he sees you.

“Your arrogance was always going to be your downfall,” Roger said, impossibly calm with the barrel of a gun pointed at his heart. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.”

“You’re the one who’s out of time.”

The pistol went off with a brutal crack. I let out a scream as the bullet pierced Roger’s chest, blood bursting out in a horrible splatter. He staggered backward, his desperate gaze catching mine with a final plea before he fell to the ground.

I threw myself at the door, pushing it open with all my force. Another shot rent the air, the glass shattering into a million pieces.

I ran into the darkness, my feet pounding against the pathway with a speed I hadn’t known myself capable of. James fired again and again. A searing pain ripped through my shoulder. I fell to my knees, clutching the briefcase against my chest.

“It’s too late,” James called out.

I had seen so many sides of this man. He was cunning, charming, and exceptionally cruel. But this was a darkness I had never imagined. The void in his eyes held no trace of humanity. He would kill me without a second’s remorse. Just like he had killed Roger. The weight of that realization stole my breath, but fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford. My arm burned as I staggered to my feet and forced myself forward, each stride fueled by sheer will and the promise that I wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.

The haze of smoke from burning buildings made it nearly impossible to see anything as I ran. I didn’t stop until my knees threatened to buckle under me. I didn’t know where I was. The few buildings left standing were unrecognizable. But there was no sign of James.

Only then did the gravity of my situation hit me.

Roger was dead. The only person on earth who could prove I wasn’t a traitor was dead.

Panic crowded my lungs, leaving no room for air. Where was I supposed to go now? Who would believe me?

My ears still rang with the sound of the gunshots, so loud I didn’t notice the strange whistling sound above me until it was too close to ignore.

“Run!” someone screamed.

I couldn’t run. I couldn’t move. I could only look up to see a buzz bomb spinning toward me.

“We have to move!” A pair of strong arms grabbed my waist and pulled me back. Everything passed in a blur. I remember only clutching for the briefcase.

“We need to hide,” the man repeated. An air raid warden.

“Where?” I looked around frantically, but there was nowhere to go.

The warden pressed me against the brick wall of the building and shielded me with his body. There was no time to run. Nowhere to go. I cried out in desperate panic and braced myself for the end. A sickening clang rang out as the bomb collided with the concrete right where I had been standing.

Time slowed down to an impossible stillness. I thought how I would finally see my mother again. Of my father, and how he would never know how hard I’d tried to redeem myself. Of Margaret. Of how there would be no one to watch out for her.

“Open your eyes, dear,” the warden said. “You’re all right.”

His words washed over me like a spell. I blinked my eyes open. I wasn’t dead. I squeezed my hands and feet in disbelief. I wasn’t even hurt. The man who had saved me was much older than I expected, with hair so white it nearly glowed beneath the moonlight.

“What . . . what happened?”

“A miracle is what. The bomb didn’t explode on impact.”

My knees caved in with relief. He caught me by the arms with surprising strength for a man his age. “Don’t go having a fainting spell. The bomb could still go off, and there’s plenty more planes still out there. We need to get to the shelter. There’s still space in the church nearby.”

We hurried the last few blocks, stepping over broken glass and debris from crumbled buildings.

“Almost there.”

We reached the church a few minutes later. There was nothing to signal it as a shelter. But when the warden opened the door, a woman in a matching helmet was there to greet us.

“Still catching strays, Harry?” she asked the man.

“I’m hoping this is the last one.” He turned to me and urged me forward. “Go on. They’ll take good care of you down there.”

In spite of all we had just been through, I hesitated. There was no light to guide my way down the stairs, and that familiar, insidious fear of the darkness spooled down my spine. “Aren’t you coming?”

He shook his head. “Not while there are still people looking for a place to go.”

“Harry, please. It’s not safe,” I pleaded. After what we had just been through, I couldn’t bear the thought of watching him walking back out to the streets.

“I survived the Germans the first time they tried to kill me thirty years ago. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He turned around, helmet askew but head high, and marched back out with more bravery than I could have ever conjured.

The woman gave a gentle tug to my arm. “Come along. We need to get everyone safely belowground before it’s too la—”

A deafening explosion drowned out the rest of her words. A rush of air so violent it threw me off my feet. The sensation of falling overwhelmed me until my head slammed against the ground. The briefcase flying from my hand was the last thing I remembered before blackness took hold of my consciousness.