Winter's Song
~ London, 1946 ~
~ Anna tried to balance two canvas shopping bags, a small wooden crate, and carry the post up the flight of stairs.
She had been to the market that snowy morning to discover the grocer had fresh eggs. It was like Christmas had come again when she saw all those brown eggs, fresh from the country.
'I can fry them, boil them, even make fresh pasta.' she thought to herself as she hoisted her loot in arms not strong enough to carry such a load.
The market had freshly killed and plucked chickens to. No more rabbits or wild game. She also got good smelling soap, fresh winter vegetables, and best of all, a bottle of wine to have with dinner. All the shortages were so painful, Anna wondered if they really won the war at all. It was a sad day when the idea of eggs, fresh meat, soap and second rate wine could make her week.
Still, she had been subsisting during the war on lukewarm oatmeal, day old bread, watery soup, and canned ham. The crate with her groceries, almost a weeks pay, seemed like a feast.
She was quick to let herself into the flat. Her neighbors not home yet from work and she had a mind to close herself off for the rest of the day. It was only noon, she could read her book, eat her meal at five, take a long hot bath with her new soap and change into her warmest pajamas. Yes, that was the only way to spend a cold day like this.
The snow had come last week, and wouldn't cease. It was as bad as the German bombings the way it rained down on them. The cold finding every available nook and cranny to invade and chase out the warmth.
Anna had been bombed out of her own flat during the blitz. She had failed to wake up at the sounds of the sirens, she had always been a heavy sleeper, and a bomb crashed through the building. It had struck, fell right through her bedroom and down to the floors below. Thankfully, Anna had slept right though the whole thing. Even when the bomb went off and her bed fell though decimated floor.
She vaguely remembered the sensation of falling. Of her body slipping off the bed and landing hard in someone rubble. The ARP warden was shocked to find the petite girl who worked as a typist for the war office, buried under her mattress. The whole thing must have sent her into some kind of shock because she had fallen asleep again.
She might not have been found for ages if not for one of the neighbors liking her posh gramophone and, attempting to salvage it from the ruins, discover a small, filthy hand. She was pulled free from the wreckage, her neighbors, as was the custom, salvaging as much of her possessions as they could. An older man even fixing her bed while she recovered.
With no place to go, a flat was found for her in a busy, but not so bombed part of London. Her new flat mate, Eliza, had already taken the only bedroom, and Anna had to cram her full size bed into a corner, pull a cheaply made privacy screen by it and generously called the area her bedroom.
Her bedroom was also called the sitting room, dinning room, library and viewing room. The viewing room got the name because of the wonderful view of their neighbors and the street in general. Whenever the girls were hard up for entertainment, there was always some kind of drama to be had out their window.
The flat was cozy enough with their own kitchen and bathroom. It was cramp though, and not meant for their living conditions. Anna's bed, her once stylish reading chair, the mismatched dinning table and chairs, the wallpaper that hadn't been nice even when it was new, all of it clashed with the girls opposite tastes in decor and art.
Eliza was a great fan of Hollywood stars and hung her collection of autographed pictures on the wall. Anna always found it a little unnerving to undress in front of Clark Gable. The man had a way of looking at her even from his lifeless picture.
But she couldn't complain about how she lived. There were plenty of people with no place to live at all. Eliza was clean enough and gone most of the time. She stayed in her bedroom when she was home. This left Anna to enjoy her time alone, which was exactly how she liked it.
The chicken immediately went into the ice box, but the eggs remained on the counter. She unpacked her standard rations of bread, canned fruit and other essentials before feeling a little too warm.
'I'm wearing five layers.' she thought to herself.
She quickly peeled off her outer coat, the hand knitted scarf, the wool stockings that were ugly, but warm, the sweater, and finally she was down to the manageable skirt and blouse. She tipped all her layers onto her unmade bed as usual. She never had the heart to keep a tidy house these days.
The wind howled angrily at the windows and she shivered slightly. Once she lit the fire, their flat would be warm and well protected against the invasion of cold. Yet, seeing the snow pile up outside, made her want to crawl into bed again.
Anna turned on the wireless. She wanted noise. Music to drown out the sounds of the wind. A smooth, gentle voice, as kind as any lover, came on the magic airwaves. A man crooning about snow fall. His deep voice already relaxing her as she ran a hot bath.
~ Perhaps hot bath wasn't the right word. There hadn't been really hot water in the pipes for years now. Another casualty of the bombings and the ARP restricting everything. But the gas worked well enough, and Anna heated water, pouring it into the tub till she had enough.
She quickly stripped in front of the gas heater in the bathroom and away from Clark Gable's eyes, the rascal dog. She tried to ignore the hot, bitting water that attacked her cold skin, but her feet were still half frozen from walking all over the neighborhood.
It was nice to have a bath again. The rationing of water had let up and people weren't so limited with its usage. She could now have three baths a week with no tide mark on the tub.
~ Eliza came home just as the hot water was starting to cool, and Anna had almost fallen asleep in the tub for the second time. Her flatmate always did make more noise than necessary, but something was off about the way her feet hit the wood floors.
"It's alright, Charles." Eliza was saying hurriedly as muffled voices reached her through the bathroom door. "It's just my flatmate and she won't mind."
"It's just for tonight." said a sobering male voice from the hall.
Anna let out a groan and was glad she still had the habit of locking the bathroom door behind her. Eliza brought a man home again. Not a week went by that she wasn't madly in love with some new GI. She would stay over at his place, or he would come over for the night and be entrained in Eliza's room.
Anna always scurried to the theater to see the latest picture and then out for coffee or to the library. Her war had been a lonely affair with no GI to keep her bed warm. The bombing and war work kept her too distracted for anything but her most immediate needs. None of which involved a strange man in her home while she was in the tub.
She pulled herself out of the water and dried off. She wished she had thought to bring a change of clothes, that she didn't have to go out in her bathrobe, but who would have thought Eliza would be home so early?
Anna secured her faded blue robe, worn, but still serviceable and steeled herself to meet Eliza's new love interest.
~ There wasn't one, but two men sitting at the dinning room table. Eliza was apparently getting more open minded after the war. Both men, beguiling in uniform, stood up when she quietly appeared in the room.
"I wasn't sure you'd be home, Annie!" Eliza laughed. Her flatmate coming out of the kitchen with Anna's prized bottle of wine. "This is Lieutenant Charles Howard and Captain Darling. I met them on the way home from work. They need a place to stay for the storm.
Anna, distracted for a moment by the strangers in the very room she slept in, grabbed her wine bottle away from Eliza.
"They can stay with the rest of the army." she hissed.
"No, they can't. Someone reassigned something, it was all very complicated. I don't know." Eliza sighed and then beamed at the men in her company.
"I'm sorry. We should go." one of the men, an American, by the look of his uniform, said.
"You most certainly will not!" Eliza said quickly. She snatched back the bottle of wine from Anna and ran a hand through her course red hair.
"No, there's a storm coming. I won't have you heroes of the war caught in it!" she looked at Anna. A pleased little smile on her face.
"We can have dinner and then worry about the sleeping arrangements." she said.