Author's note: Again, I have not put all of every letter in, nor have I put in every letter. This chapter starts off with letters and finishes with narrative.

Chapter 2 -1939

29th December 1938- Peggy Blackett to Susan Walker

Happy 21st Birthday!

Does being properly grown-up feel any different? I'm rather suspecting it won't. Why not have a party if your parents are offering? I can see why you might not have wanted it on your birthday though, quite aside from actually being at work.

I think you did very well with the material, which arrived yesterday. I was rather worried that Nancy might go for something like navy blue or red, and the danger is that Lillian would egg her on to "be striking". The sketches Lillian made did make sense to me too. Yes, definitely Bridget's dress gets made last. Not until Easter at the earliest I would say, and let's put in massive seam allowances and a huge hem allowance.

What presents did you get? And did they keep asking what you wanted? I'm not sure what to say really about mine. Nancy has got impatient with my not answering and bought something – supposedly a surprise. It was sitting on the chest of drawer all wrapped up. It started ticking yesterday at bedtime so no surprises there! It must not have wound down completely and Nancy slams drawers open and shut like billy-oh, which started it off again. Nancy had made them prove the bell worked, too, in the shop, and it woke us up at a quarter past three in the morning. It was nearly half past before we could stop laughing enough to go back to sleep.

I shall miss that sort of thing I suppose.

Yes, the cake is well in hand. The Misses Martindale are making it as their wedding present. They've been building up dried fruit stocks since September in case there was a war and they can't get things. Well, it did seem quite likely. They are planning to start it in a month or two's time. They do make gorgeous rich fruit cakes. (I wouldn't let Bridget eat too much of it at the wedding if I were you – the Miss Letty makes holes in the cake with a skewer and pour brandy down every month while it is maturing). They ask to be remembered to you of course.

Do you keep getting people asking what John and Nancy would like as a present? Nancy hasn't said anything, so I have no idea what to say. Mother says no toast-racks as she got three when she married and plans to give them one as an extra. She can't remember which one came from the great aunt's friend though, and she thinks one might have come from Father's friend – the detective one.

30th December: Helen Blackett to her sister-in-law

Dear Molly,

Happy New Year!

I'm glad you approve the fabric – and even more glad that Peggy approves since she'll be wearing it. Yes, I do remember the Pink Frock Incident – I got a couple of nice pen and ink sketches out of it for a boarding school series – one full page and one chapter endpiece – but Nancy was only ten then!

Of course she behaved perfectly this time. She was absolutely determined not to let John down in any way and was a model of patience and enthusiasm all day. I must say I am very curious to meet this young man.

You have no need to thank me. It really was a pleasure. It meant a great deal to Lillian to be involved. We both hope you'll come down for at least a week to help Nancy choose her dress though. What about the first week of March? That still leaves the best part of six months before the wedding, so it will be finished in plenty of time. You could buy your own outfit at the same time.

Much love from us both to you all,

Helen.

Ist January 1939

Dear Nancy,

Thank you very much indeed for the "Harriet Vane". I know you say the autograph and dedication cost you nothing but pride, but I value it anyway. And it is lovely not having to wait for the cheap edition to come out! Mother laughs at me and says it's the same book anyway whenever I read it, but it isn't the same as reading it before I've read all the reviews.

Yes, thank you, the arm seems to be completely better, barring the odd twinge.

With love,

Susan.

1st January 1939

Dear John,

Thank you very much for the bracelet; it's lovely. I'm going to wear it to the theatre the week after next. (I was possibly a bit too enthusiastic in my appreciation the first time Nancy's Aunt Helen asked me to the theatre, and since you got engaged I now seem to get invited to some very odd plays with no story at all.)

I say John, you will remember to get something for Peggy's birthday won't you? Nancy got me something, which she never has before except that New Year they came to stay. She's got four new people to buy for, six if she gives Mother and Father something. You've only got two new people. Peggy's birthday is the 1st March, so you've got time to think of something. Not an alarm clock though.

Much love, Susan.

15th January 1939

Dear Nancy,

Things are very quiet. Timothy is back. He's bought himself a motorcycle although he still seems to dislike anything but walking. He came to tea, ended up staying to supper and Mother got into such a flap about him riding off anywhere in the dark that he stayed the night as well. It took him a couple of hours to get over his shyness all over again – although I suppose he did come and see us of his own accord, so maybe he hasn't lapsed back into his old ways entirely.

He heard all our news. Oh, don't worry, I gave him the public consumption version, although I think it would have been safe enough to give him the other. I don't think he believed me in the slightest about us all just happening to get the chance to go to the Baltic anyway.

He laughed like a drain at the thought of you stuck looking after David and said he always thought John was insane and now he realises John must have committed terrible sins in a past life.

If you want him at the wedding, and I'm assuming you do, you'd better give him some kind of job or he'll probably bolt for the hills the moment he sees the congregation "gathered together."

with love from Peggy

19th January: Molly Blackett to Jim Turner

…seemed quite happy to stay and chat, or rather listen to Peggy. The motorcycle looks jolly good fun. I'm rather tempted to see if I can afford one. Oh, not this year, of course, with the wedding, though Nancy won't let me buy her half the things I'd like to. After all, I can ride a bicycle and drive a car, so riding motorcycle should be a mixture of the two.

Anyway, I did wonder if Timothy was laying it on a bit thick about Nancy driving any husband mad, but even if he was, pretending not to notice is the best thing.

20th January: Peggy Blackett to her sister

Oh don't flap. I said that it would have been safe enough to tell him what we were doing in the Baltic, not that I had, you galoot. You're getting a lot too much like John, you know.

22nd January: Jim Turner to his sister

I really wouldn't advise a motorcycle. Think about where you would put the shopping for one thing. You'll be right about getting petrol of course, although you might not get enough even for a motorcycle. I would advise you to seriously think about selling the launch now, or this spring at least, before everyone else makes the same calculation. Plenty of people will have done so already, so you won't get a good price for it I'm afraid. The sooner you get on with it the better.

26th January: Peggy Blackett to her sister

Maybe, but I didn't mean it as a compliment! Yes, I am expecting to use your words. Younger sisters always get pass-ons when their elder sisters get married. I don't expect you to hand over "Shiver my timbers" until after you're married. You won't be needing it when you're it shaking hands and holding tea cups and making polite conversation with other officers' wives. It's not as if any of your clothes are likely to be in good enough condition to pass on!

31st January: Peggy Blackett to her sister

Don't be a donk. I like John and I'm glad you're marrying him. He does seem to get rather intense about things – they all do except Roger and Bridget - and competitive, but he won't give in and say "yes, Nancy" to absolutely everything. A couple of years of being "yes dear"ed would make you unbearable or demented or both. I'm quite happy to hand the job of keeping you in order over to someone else. At the moment my spare time it occupied with learning to ride a motorcycle. It isn't ideal weather, but I'd like to have got the hang of it if/before Timothy goes off again.

2nd February: John Walker to Nancy Blackett

…So,is there any chance you can manage those days as leave and come down to Portsmouth? Mother will write and ask you properly of course. If you can't get leave isn't there anything you could wrangle having to do in Portsmouth? You always have been able to make plans work out. It would be wonderful if you were there when I arrived.

5th February: Nancy Blackett to Peggy Blackett

….So I am spending that week in Portsmouth, staying with the Walkers with more approval from Mrs M. than I thought I was likely to get.

Timothy teaching you how to ride a motor-bike? Did he volunteer or did you ask? It sounds good fun, but …. Timothy? This seems rather extreme in gratitude for a hutch he never did fit in!

9th February: Peggy Blackett to Nancy Blackett

Look here, I didn't tease you about John, so that's jolly unfair, or it would be if there was anything to tease about. There certainly isn't from my point of view. It could be really awkward if there is from his. Anyway, I thought we'd agreed that we thought Timothy's interests were different?

Rattletrap can't last for ever (the gear box certainly won't!) and fuel could be very difficult to get for the duration if there is a war. Motorcycles use a lot less fuel. (Bridget suggested a pony and trap last summer. At least a motorcycle doesn't die if you can't get fuel for it.)

13th February: Nancy Blackett to Peggy Blackett

It wasn't teasing! We don't really know about Timothy. So long as you don't care about him in that way, I don't expect it will matter. Maybe we were right and he wants it to look as though he's courting you. I wonder if you'll get anything interesting in the post tomorrow.

You can't eat a motorcycle if you run out of food, but you better hadn't tell Bridget that! Well, we are meant to be ruthless!

14th February: Peggy to Nancy

Apart from your letter, which gave me a bad moment until I saw your scrawl on the envelope, nothing!

17th February: Nancy to Peggy

Barbequed billygoats, Uncle Jim says that Mother is talking about learning to ride a motorcycle! You can't let her. Just think of the damage she could do to herself, let alone anyone else. Selling the launch is probably the right thing to do, though.

I shall be far too busy to write next week!

For the first time Nancy felt as if the Walkers, or one of them at least, saw her as an intruder. Bridget had been quite happy to see Nancy when she had arrived the evening before. This evening, Bridget plainly suspected Nancy of attempting to monopolise John's attention, scowling every time Nancy opened her mouth. Sitting on the sofa next to John (who had simply said, "Budge up, Bridget, I want to sit next to Nancy") Nancy felt quite content to listen Bridget recounting all her news to John and to hear John telling his family all the news he hadn't put into letters. Most of it, Nancy realised, she did already know from his letters. Without meaning to, she squeezed John's hand a little and he squeezed back gently, a slight smile reaching the edges of his mouth and eyes as he continued to listen to Roger airing his views on the latest idiocy of the powers-that-be at school. They would have plenty of time alone together over the next few days when the younger ones were at school (art or otherwise). Despite the "international situation", despite the sad news she had to tell John when they were alone, Nancy Blackett felt completely happy.

Two people had been hovering on the half-landing, waiting for Nancy to come out of the bathroom and chatting in whispers. A dressing-gowned Titty shot into the bathroom as Nancy came out. Nancy startled, muttered an apology. She really didn't think she had been long.

"You weren't long." John assured her. "Titty's just being tactful. I just wanted to say good night. Was it terribly painful being quite so good this evening?"

"Terribly." Nancy whispered, lips all but touching John's but still grinning slightly.

This wasn't a time for bad news. She lost herself in the more urgent matter of kissing John.

"You're growing your hair." He observed, some indeterminate time later, wrapping some of the strands around his fingers. "I like it."

"Yes, it needs to go up in a bun. I can't keep it tidy without a bun net. Maybe it will be.."

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed her neck and one ear.

"Something distracting you, Nancy?" She loved hearing his amusement like that in his voice. It was all the more precious because she heard it so rarely. "A bun net, you? Really?"

She held him a little closer. "Yes, really."

"You're perfect." He murmured between kisses.

"I do love you. Lots."

She had been noisy with the bolt, rattled the door handle, worked the bathroom door backwards and forward to see if the hinges would squeak and staged an entirely unconvincing coughing fit. Titty decided she had done her best. She walked determinedly out of the bathroom and passed Nancy and John.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Titty."

Nancy had recovered her presence of mind faster than John but not by much, Titty thought, grinning to herself. She searched for a soft pencil and some paper in the pile of art materials removed from the second bed and put on the dressing table. It was a good (and productive) ten minutes before the door opened and Nancy slid into the room.

Absorbed in her work, Titty absent-mindedly flung her pillow at Nancy. Nancy caught it and sat patiently on the edge of her bed until Titty looked up.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

Titty looked at her incredulously.

"I'm sorry if we inconvenienced you." Nancy clarified. She grinned. "I'm not sorry about anything else in the slightest of course."

Titty grinned back. Nancy was still Nancy. It was somehow reassuring. She held out the sketch of the two figures –all jumbled lines and lack of detail and no faces – so that Nancy could see.

"Is that really what it feels like?" Titty asked.

Nancy's eyes, wide and dark with astonishment, met hers. Startled for once into speechlessness Nancy nodded.

They walked a long way next morning. Nancy wondered if it was John's reaction to the confines of a ship. John wondered if it was Nancy's reaction to the confines of London and meetings.

Nancy had recounted what she knew of Anna and Jan's escape. There was a silence.

"You haven't said anything about their neighbour." John said.

"I asked. I knew you'd want to know. Even though it is something you don't want to know."

"She deserves… Deserved?" He looked at Nancy. She nodded.

He started off again. "When we were hiding under the bed and she came to see that Anna was alright, you could tell that her memory, her mind wasn't what it should be. Age, I should say, as well as the grief of what they did to her husband. Even with all that, you could tell what sort of person she had been, what sort of person she still was. It wasn't bravado or putting on a front. She was too frail, mentally as well as physically for that. Thinking about how to help someone in trouble was all she was thinking about."

John stopped. Nancy nodded. She had never asked him to translate that overheard conversation. Being John, he would not repeat something heard by eavesdropping, however excusable the circumstances.

They had stopped walking and were standing together on the pavement in some quiet side street. Nancy had not noticed its name.

After a few minutes John squeezed her gloved hand slightly and said, "Go on."

"It was on the 9th of November. In the night. Maybe it was already the 10th by then. Anna and Jan had the papers, the passports, the visas all ready for the 11th which was when they were due to go Anna says there hadn't been as much trouble in that area compared to some of the places. Anyway, the pastor's widow came across the landing earlier in the evening and said that she would sit with them. She said that there would be accusations, later on, and that she wanted to be with them, so that she could say they were in her company the whole evening."

John opened his mouth to speak, then did not. Nancy nodded.

"I know." She said. "Even an honest magistrate, or whatever their equivalent is, might not have taken her evidence as reliable, the way her memory was. So they were all three in the flat when a group of them came, yelling and banging on the door and clearly meaning harm. You remember the fire escape that we ran up? It goes up another flight, Anna says, and then you can climb onto the roof if you stand on the railing and use the drain pipe. It's quite a stretch. It isn't any good as a hiding place in daylight, because it is overlooked by other buildings, but it was night."

"They couldn't have done it with a baby."

Nancy nodded again. "If we hadn't taken David with us, they might have tried. It keeps coming back into my mind – what might have happened."

After a bit she continued again.

"They got all the papers and climbed up. Eventually they broke the door down. Anna says they never knew how many were there – about ten she thinks. They yelled at the pastor's widow, who just kept repeating that she was only old woman and that she was alone. Some of the mob were neighbours, so they knew it wasn't her flat. They knew about the fire-escape too, and crowded out onto it and looked up and down. They kept urging each other to climb on the roof to check, but it's a big stretch and a long fall if you miss, so none of them had the nerve to do it." Nancy voice shook with anger. "Only the nerve to hit an old lady – which is what they had done. Eventually they decided that Anna and Jan had run down the escape and gone somewhere else and left to harass someone else."

Another pause.

"The neighbour had a black eye and a broken nose and bruises on her arms and hands where she had held them up to protect herself. Jan said the injuries themselves were something she would have recovered from, but that she had had a problem with her heart for a while and the exertion damaged it further. Jan did what he could for her and they got her to bed, but even with all the right drugs and things it might not have been any good. He sent Anna to ask one of the other neighbours to send for a doctor, but the neighbour said she was too frightened to go out. Anna said she would go, but the pastor's wife kept asking for her and got very agitated even when she went as far as the other neighbours and Jan wouldn't let her go."

"Was Jan laying that on a bit thick to keep Anna safe?"

Despite herself Nancy couldn't help a brief wry smile. "I think so, too, although there was probably some truth in it. Maybe they couldn't have got another doctor to come out anyway. Maybe Jan knew it was pretty hopeless. She died, and in the morning Anna went to some people who knew the pastor's widow – went to the same church. It was quite a long walk I think. These said they would make all the arrangements, death certificates and things and that it was better not to change plans. Anna and Jan could stay with them for one night before they caught the train."

"Oh, Nancy."

She wrapped her arms round John and he put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She heard him swallow, hard, a couple of times. After a few minutes, he said, "Anna never did tell us her name, never used it where we could hear. It can't hurt her now, us knowing it. I don't suppose Anna told you?"

"I asked her. I thought you'd want to know. I wanted to know myself." And Nancy told him the name.

"Some people deserve not to be forgotten." John said. "Everyone does, really, but some people especially."