"Tell me about Grandpapa," Glynis said, hoping over cracks in the heaving pavement (1) a few blocks away from our flat.

I sighed, taking her hand. "Well, Grandpa was a porter. He went all over England helping people with their luggage when they traveled on his chuffer (2)."

She paused, bending over a patch of grass growing between the stone. "How did he meet Grandmuma?"

"Grandma was a dancer. She was traveling from London to Birmingham when he helped her with her luggage. She said it was love at first touch when his hand brushed hers as he took her case." I smiled, remembering how she beamed when she told the story. "They were married before they arrived."

Glynis brushed hair from her eyes. "Grandmuma's Big Glynis."

I nodded. "Yes, love, Grandma's name was Glynis too."

"Can we see her soon?"

I shielded my eyes as I looked up at the thin grey clouds. "I don't know, sweet pea. We'll see. The cemetery's awfully far away."

Glynis jerked out of my grip and dashed across the street to the playground Peter took me to whenever Mum and Da were fighting about his spending all our pounds at the pub.

"Glynis!" I shouted, grateful no cars were on the street at the moment. "Get your bottom back here!"

She shrieked with laughter and raced ahead.

"Bloody hell," I muttered, running after her. "Glynis! Come back!" I grabbed her waist as she charged into the park. "Don't do that again! You scared me. I…"

I gasped, taking in the ruin before us. I'd been wrong in writing Peter there'd been little damage. The apple-red slide I loved whiled away the hours on had twisted and toppled onto a mess of concrete and steel that used to be the roundabout (3) Peter pushed on until I fell off in dizzy giggles. I couldn't even see the swings we catapulted ourselves off of anymore.

"Oh, Peter," I whispered, my heart feeling like it would shatter after each beat.

Glynis fidgeted under me. "Mum!" she whined. "Let me go! You're squishing me!"

"Sorry, love." I pulled her away. "C'mon. We're going to see Auntie Charlotte."

oOo

Charlotte looked like a bus had smacked her when she opened the door to her flat.

"What are ye looking at me like that fer?" she snapped, putting her hands on her ever-thickening hips. "Yer a fine one to judge, ye stinkin' fishwife!"

I smiled and hugged her. "The same to you, sea hag." Charlotte and I had been best friends for years. She used words like fishwife the way people used love or ducky. "You look like you just returned from battle."

Charlotte cursed as a steaming pot boiled over onto her stove. Her boy, Joseph, who she'd stuck in a cot, let out a wail as she waddled past him to the kitchen. "I'm still in the thick of it, thank ye very much. It won't end until I grab a few winks, and even the Jerries've been taking that away presently." She waved a spoon at me. "I could show our lads a thing or two about survival tactics, I'll tell ye."

Glynis grabbed my legs and looked up at me as if to say 'are you daft woman, leaving me with this loon?'

"Go on!" I hissed, prying her hands off me. "Get Mathew and the rest of the boys."

"What?" Charlotte called, sampling the pot's contents. "Speak up!"

I joined her by the stove. "How's Charlie liking the Merchant Navy?"

She shrugged. "'He doesn't complain much in his letters, which worries me. You know Charlie. He's not 'appy unless he's belly-aching."

I jumped back when her concoction whistled. "Don't worry. He's probably just busy giving the Third Reich hell."

"Aye, and wrecking havoc ashore. Thank the Lord they didn't put 'im and Peter together. There'd be nothing left of the Jerries, or of Britannia."

I frowned. "That's a fine thing to say!"

Her smile disappeared. "What's got yer knickers in a twist? You sound like ye lost yer best friend, and she's still here last time I checked."

I sighed. "You remember the old playground?"

"Yeh?"

"The Jerries reduced it to rubble last night."

Charlotte shook her head. "Those bloody bastards won't stop until they destroy everything, will they?"

I peeked out the window at the empty street below us. "How much is left for them to destroy? People are afraid to let their children out to play, or linger on the sidewalk too long in case that nutter in Berlin has ordered another attack." I looked back at her. "Don't take this unkindly, dear, but thank God Alistair's flat feet won't let him serve in anything more than the Home Guard."

She stared at me as if I'd told her I wanted to leap off London Bridge. "What?"

"I'm tired of seeing people I care about being sent off to die. I'm tired of being brave for Peter, writing him how everything's fine when I can't sleep at night for worrying I'll never see him again. I'm tired of telling Glynis we'll be alright when the world around her's gone crackers." I ran my hand through the tangles in my hair. "I'm sick of it all! I don't care if the Germans win anymore if it means I could live the rest of me life in peace."

Charlotte slammed her spoon back into the pot, spilling more liquid onto the stove. I covered my nose at the sweet burnt stench it gave off. "I ough ta give yer loaf a good soak in this stew. What kind of talk is that? Yer an Englishwoman! The Germans can take away our nights, our flats and maybe even a few of us, but they can't take away our dignity." She jabbed a thick finger into my shoulder, her hazel eyes blazing. "We can't let them! If they do, then the war's lost, and Peter's a prisoner for nothing."

I glared at her, which she returned tenfold. "Ruddy hell," I said, reaching for her. "You're right. I don't know what came over me. Ta."

She squeezed me back. "Anytime."

"And ta for looking after Glynis."

"It's a pleasure. She's such a well-behaved little darlin.' Yer Dad could take a few lessons from 'er."

I pulled away. "Speaking of him, I'd best be going. He's waiting for me."

"You're a better woman than I am. Good luck."

oOo

"Mavis! Where's my pipe? Where's my beer?"

I flinched as I looked at the middle-aged nurse behind the front desk. "Oi, Nancy. Has he been at it all morning?"

She nodded. "He's going on day number two now. Begging your pardon ma'am, but I've never seen such a cantankerous old fart. I don't know what's got him all riled up."

"Mavis!"

I sighed. "I'm sorry he's been a bother. I'll try to quiet him down."

"Good luck dear," she called after me as I followed his gravelly cries down the corridor to his ward. Thankfully, the patients in the beds beside him were either unconscious or deaf, as they seemed oblivious to his fussing.

I sat down on the edge of Da's painfully thin bed and took in his pasty complexion. His once handsome face had swollen up like a squirrel with a full mouth and his skin had turned a ripe banana colour since I'd last visited. Damn the drink. Look what it's done to him.

"Mavis!" he shouted.

"I'm right here, Da," I said, trying to ignore my ringing ears.

He leaned forward, his rheumy eyes struggling to focus on me. "It is you isn't it? About time you got here."

I took his hand. "How are you?"

"Terrible. The food's rotten, I can't sleep for all the people moaning and screaming day and night, and the nurses ignore me whenever I need something."

I gasped. "What? Why would they do that?"

"They hate me, that's why. Everyone hates me."

I rolled my eyes. "No, Da, nobody hates you. What do you need?"

"A drink."

I shook my head. "The doctor says you can't have it anymore. It's not good for you."

He slapped the mattress. "Blast their hides. I'm old enough to know what's good for me and what's not. I need a drink."

"What else do you need?"

"Fresh bedding, a dig (4) and someone to take me out for some fresh air."

I would've laughed if anyone else had said it. "You're in hospital, Da, not Buckingham Palace. I'll talk to the nurses, but I'm sure they're doing the best they can. There are other people here who need their help."

He tried to sit up, but fell back against his flatted pillow. "I don't understand why I'm here anyway. I want me own bed in me own house."

I took a deep breath as my patience wore thin. "Da, your house was destroyed by a bomb. You broke your leg when it happened because you didn't take proper shelter. Now, you have to stay here until it heals." If it ever heals. The doctor's didn't think it likely. "Now, I've got a letter from Peter. Would you like to me to read it to you?"

"No!" he snapped.

I took the letter out of my bag anyway. "Dear Mave," I read. "Ta for sending the woolly(5) with your last letter. It's been marvelous for keeping the cold away. The scones you sent were also delicious. I hope you don't mind, but I shared them with me mates in camp. Everyone said to tell you how good they were."

"Lord love a duck," Da mumbled. "I need a dig and you're flapping about baking."

"Just listen."

"Don't tell me what to do!" he spat. "Nobody tells me how to live me life; not you and especially not Peter. That bastard's always thought he was better than me."

My heart sank. "Don't talk that way."

"Now, your mum never ordered me about. She loved and supported me no matter what." He seemed to stare through me as his eyes unfocused. "The Lord broke the mold when he made her. I was the luckiest horse's arse that ever lived the day she married me."

I nodded. He'd said it before. "Yes, Da."

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't be cheeky. I've had my arse full of that with your brother. Utterly useless lad. Always being pinched by bloody coppers for stealing sweets or wallets. I had more bobbies on my doorstep than a bitch has litters."

"Da…"

"And you! You're never around when I need you."

I fought to keep my tone even as guilt surged through me. "I'm sorry I have to work so much, but Alistair isn't earning enough to support us right now."

"It's always excuses with you," he muttered. "Well, excuses don't do the shopping or laundry, or comfort me when I'm scared. You don't know what it's like to be all alone with nothing but your fears to keep you company, especially at Christmas."

I tapped my foot against the scratched floor. "We saw you Christmas Eve!"

"I have needs, Mavis, I can't do everything on my own. God knows it hasn't been easy with your mum's passing." He flung my hand away and pointed to his legs. "I needed you the night this happened to me."

My throat seemed to shrink with each of his words. "I came as soon as I heard and stayed with you the rest of the night."

He gave me a look that could've cut me like butcher's beef. "You think that makes up for all my suffering?"

"Da, I'm sorry." I whimpered, suddenly feeling as helpless as I did when he started raving at Mum.

"You ought to be. You've been a pain in my arse a good many years now."

I looked away. "What did I do?"

"What did you do?" He hissed. "What did you do? You let the first randy knob who ever looked at your ugly face put you in the club with his bastard before you made him marry you. You know how many people laughed in my face when they heard?" He rolled away from me. "Your brother may've been an embarrassment, but you, you, brought shame on my house. You aren't even fit to lick his boots."

I leapt up and bolted from the room, no longer fighting the tears.

1) sidewalk

2) train

3) merry go round

4) a shave

5) A woollen jumper or cardigan.