5.

~ Anna woke shortly before sun rise. She had slept almost every night of her life in this bed and always alone. She awoke to realize she had forgotten her American was sleeping beside her.

She remained quite and still, listening to the deep breathing coming from him. He was still asleep, even though it was morning.

The snow had let up slightly in the cold breaking day. The sun would shin brightly, but there would be no warmth to it. The heavy snow fall had left behind a neighborhood half buried. The bombed out building had been left to rot until the city could get around to properly demolishing them. The old, abandoned apartments looked like doll houses. Their wallpaper faded from exposure to the elements. In some rooms, there was even pictures on the wall. A glimpse into the lives of their occupants. Anna could see the rubble of several buildings from her viewing room. They always seemed to sad. Like ruins of a lost civilization. It's survivors, looking at what once was and wondering why.

Her American was sleeping peacefully beside her in their warm, little bed. Anna had to debate how much she needed to get up and use the bathroom. He was like a sleeping cat, looking so comfortable, she hated to disturb him. Besides, the approaching sunlight would wake him for her. No matter how tired the girls were after air raids, or work, or both, they never slept past sun rise. Their lofty residence on the fifth floor, made the sun a frequent visitor though their windows.

When she realized her bladder couldn't wait forever, she had to gingerly maneuver off the bed with it's squeaky mattress. Why didn't the springs ever bother her before?

William seemed to be capable of sleeping through anything. His snores weren't especially loud, but she could tell by his deep, long breaths he wasn't pretending to sleep.

On silent feet, Anna tiptoed to the bathroom to wash up and dress.

The door to Eliza's room was shut tight and Anna was glad. She hoped her flatmate would spend the day with her solider and leave her alone. The fire, left burning low all night, didn't effectively chase away the coldness of morning. The sobering cold floors on warm feet were unwelcome as she shut the door to wash up. The chill in the air made it difficult to wash up. The steam from the hot water curled off her skin like smoke, and only served to chill her even more. But she couldn't complain with a sink that burst free with clean hot water.

What a luxury it was to have piping hot water again in the taps! What a wonderful, simple joy she had forgotten about. It made her feel almost human. As though she had been in some depraved county and was in culture shock to how deselect people lived.

~ Refreshed and renewed, Anna felt a second wind take over. Her American was still sleeping soundly as was the rest of the house. It was still too early for anyone to be awake just yet, and she couldn't go back to sleep.

~ How she found the nerve to go through William's pack she never could explain, but when William woke up around noon, it was to find his hostess mending his meager clothes at the table.

"You slept so long. I didn't want to wake you up." she explained by way of a greeting. Her batter and broken sewing box open with spartan threads, buttons and other odds and ends that would never find a home. So, these bits of salvaged scraps were put in the sewing box with the idea that they could one day be pressed into service again.

His shirts were almost thread bare and wouldn't survive another year. She patched up the holes as best she could, but she was afraid another washing would do his wardrobe in for good.

William looked even more exhausted than he did yesterday.

"I was dreaming." he said in a groggy voice. His manners indifferent to her taking liberties with her clothing.

"Oh?" she asked. "Of what?"

I think we were at a carnival, and there was an accident." he said from his spot in her bed.

"A bomb?"

"No, I don't think so." he said. "People were panicking."

"Well the days of bombings are over." she told him as she folded his ragged clothes up and took his socks from the screen in front of the fire. They were nice and warm now and William looked up at her gratefully.

"Thank you." he said in a small voice of surprise.

"Your clothes are a sorry sight." she sighed as the snow started to pick up again.

"I know." he agreed.
"There's bread for toast in the tin." she told him stiffly and went to put her shoes on.
"Where are you going?" he asked. The flat was quite even though Eliza and her soldier must be awake by now.

"I have to check on my neighbors." she told him distractedly. Shutting the front door behind her.

~ "Mr. Baker's slacks." the widow Baker said proudly holding up a few pair of out of fashion pants. "He looked just like a film star in his suit, you know."

Anna smiled at the older woman, still in love with a man who had so recently been buried. The couple had lived here in this building all their married life. Nothing could move them, not even the bombs.
"I think it will suit my friend nicely." the younger woman said softly. Mrs. Baker seemed reluctant to hand over a dead man's clothes, but finally nodded and laid them on the bed.
"I have some good socks and shirts the young men can have as well." she said. "God knows my Jonathan won't be coming home to use them."

Anna kept her lips tightly shut when Mrs. Baker spoke of her lost son. Jonathan was only nineteen when he left home. He had been missing and presumed dead since the evacuation at Dunkirk. The Bakers were a poor family. Even though both husband and wife worked, it was clear that they were never well off. All Mrs. Baker had now was her husband's pension, his life insurance, and a few personal things. Their son had been an only child and it seemed she was destined to live out her days in the small flat, with only her memories to keep her company.

"You take them for your friend." the older woman ordered stiffly. Not an ounce of real charity in her heart. "If that's what you want."

"Do you need me to go to the market for you?" Anna asked as she folded the offered clothing.

"What, do you think I am? feeble?" Mrs. Baker retorted bitterly. "I'm not a charity case just yet. I can take care of myself. I may have to rent out the other room, but I'll manage."

Anna didn't ask anymore from the poor widow. She felt, as she always did, that she had robbed the woman. Even if they were given to her and there would be no Mr. Baker, junior or senior, to come back for them.

~ "Where did you find those?" William asked from the dinning room table. He had helped himself to a light lunch of toasted bread and cheese she had planed to use later in the week. A pain of selfishness rippled through her at the though of her precious food stores being used. In the war, and even after, nothing was more important than food. It was always a scarce meal in the best of times. A small sandwich for lunch, a bowl of soup for dinner. There was always the annoying pain of hunger creeping though the body when such small rations were dolled out.
"A neighbor." she explained. "Her husband had a lot of clothes and he was skinny, like you." she said feeling slightly happier now that she was back in her American's company.
"Stand up." she instated and held a shirt out to see if it would fit.

William placed his slice of bread down and stood as instructed. Ann held the shirt over his chest.
"I think it will do fine." she said happily. Even though the shirt was second hand, it was like new for the both of them. Anna had gone so long without anything new of her own. All her dresses and other clothing were torn, riddles with snags, and worn thin from too many washings.

"Let me guess, you ran one of those clothing swaps during the war. Going door to door asking for donations." he teased as he peeled off his and pulled on the late Mr. Baker's wardrobe.

"Hardly." Anna laughed. "I worked in the war office. Typing. When I wasn't doing that, I was working in a canteen."

She shook her head at the memory. Hours on her feet after work in an office. Her hands cracked and weathered from doing so many dishes with cheap useless soap. Her head and back aching just a few hours into her shift. Most nights she didn't get home till after midnight. Those were the good nights. When the air raids didn't make the whole operation of feeding the masses halt and run for cover. The good nights saw a full house of people. All of them wearing the same look on their faces of shock and weariness. As if they hadn't slept properly for days or even weeks. Which, in most cases, they hadn't

"We were bombed so much," Anna mused as she started pinning places on his shirt to hem. "They put sand bags all around the canteen to protect it from all the shrapnel. It was just a school canteen, nothing fancy, but they piled the bags around it so high, you had to climb down to get to it. It felt like a bunker."

William was quite as she worked to fit his shirt.

"We fed about four hundred people a day. I didn't work a whole shift, but the canteen was open all day and all night. Never closed, not even for Sunday. We managed to feed a lot of people who had lost their homes. ARP workers and… the people who dug out bodies." she whispered.

William turned slightly.
"That's you done." she said quickly.

"Thank you, for getting me some better clothes." he said at last.

Anna only nodded and refused to look at him. She had no idea how to talk to men on a personal level anymore. In the war, things were actually easier. There was always instructions to give, orders to follow. Personal conversations weren't needed and thusly, weren't implemented. It was day to day fear of death, coupled with needs of life. It made for a strange perspective on relationships.

"So, what will you do?" he asked her as she helped him out of Mr. Baker's shirt.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Now that it's over." he clarified. "Now that the boys are coming home. There's no more bombings now."

She knew what he was asking. It was a question she had asked herself many times since Germany fell.
"I haven't given it much thought." she said sadly. "Stay in London perhaps."

"Why don't you go abroad?" he asked.

She felt her face grow hot at the idea of leaving the country. So many people were flushed out of their homeland and into a frighting foreign land. She didn't have the courage to do such a thing. To start over new when everything she was, was here.

"Perhaps one day." she admitted.

She sensed some kind of judgment on William's part. As if he had expected her to recount some girlish dream of running off to hollywood and becoming a famous actress. He no doubt saw all of Eliza's movie stars on the wall and thought she to must exist in such a dream world.

"You'll really stay here?" he questioned.

"Why not?" she asked.

She was about to make an argument in the values of staying in London, but the destroyed buildings across the street, the brutal memories of how they got that way, seemed to make those reason laughable.

"It will get better." she told him. "I know the city is already rebuilding."

William said nothing.
"My friend and your roommate are here." he said casually after a long spell of silence.

Anna tried not to sound too shocked.
"Eliza must have convinced him to take her out." she told him.
"Perhaps we could go out to. Do you have to work today?" he asked.

"No." she told him simply. She didn't want to admit she had plans to do a little as possible for her meager days off. It was so rare to have such solitude and quite to ones self these days.

"Perhaps a walk?" William asked kindly. "I'm certainly dressed for it."