29th December 1940

Mary and Bert ran hand in hand and as fast as they could to the nearest subway they wanted a spontaneously but nice evening in the city and it started well: they were eating with relish, drank rum punch and just walked leisurely past St. Paul's when the sound of sirens sounded. It was not long before the unmistakable sound of aircraft engines reached their ears.

Buildings were destroyed in the immediate vicinity and they ran faster than ever before in their lives! However, they were always careful to hold hands so they would not lose each other. Everything around them was wrapped in clouds of dust and they could hardly see anything.

After about 300 meters, they arrived at the station and literally fell down the stairs. When they looked around, they saw the first people. Most of them were already in their sleepwear, but one thing was the same for everyone: the look of fear in their eyes! Bert turned to Mary: "Are ya alright?"

"Yes... at least physically."

He silently pulled her into a hug and was glad she was safe. But then his thoughts reminded him of another person.

Not far away, Elizabeth was on the rooftops of London. To be exact, on a roof on Tudor Street near Fleet Street. But she was not alone: a middle-aged man was also there, unpacking his camera. As he searched for a motive, Liz watched as her city was destroyed. But then something caught her eye. After a hesitation, she went to the man: "Excuse me? May I take a picture? "

"Of course" he handed her the camera and she looked through the viewfinder toward St. Paul's and shot a photo of the cathedral. But no sooner had it clicked, the young woman got a strange feeling. A feeling that has plagued her more often lately.

She handed him back his camera: "Thank ya mister..."

"Manson," he said as he looked in the direction in which Elizabeth had shot the photo. He also photographed St. Paul's and was grateful that she got that idea.

Liz watched him for a moment before nodding: "Take care of yerself, yes?" With that, she grabbed the backpack, climbed down the fire escape and ran into the streets. Since the beginning of the war, Elizabeth has noticed that her feelings often led her to people and animals that needed help-sometimes even before something happened! She never knew what it was all about, which is why she always had to improvise, but still she could not ignore the feeling.

She ran down the street and was no longer really aware of the detonations- she was so used to it. Her vision was clouded by the smoke, so she had to rely fully on her feeling. This took her to Shoe Lane, not too far away.

The smoke was not as dense here as on Tudor Street, so she could see better. But the street was bathed in a threatening red-orange light and it was difficult to catch her breath. Looking around, she saw the damaged houses and, not too far away, a couple of firefighters who were apparently changing of them came straight to Elizabeth when she noticed something: a wall to their right collapsed! The firefighters looked shocked at the wall and stood there petrified. "Shit!" Liz swore and ran without hesitation towards the two. As soon as she was able to pack their jackets, the building collapsed.

Meanwhile Mary lay in Bert's arms as he stroked her back reassuringly and gave her a featherlight kiss on her hair. Lost in thought she tugged at a hole in his sleeve and just wanted the war to be over. It hurt her to see him like this: thin, barely any money, tattered clothes despite all the work. She, on the other hand, always had good clothes and a perfect figure. She subconsciously snuggled closer to him and pressed her head against his much too thin chest. He smiled sadly at her, when suddenly a croaking voice came from the side: "I don't believe it!" Mary and Bert looked up and noticed that these words were addressed to them.

"Excuse me?", Mary straightened up. In front of them stood an elderly lady who obviously had a lot of money and seemed rather arrogant.

"How can such a respectable person spend time with such a shabby homeless man?" The two respondents could not find words, so perplexed by the woman's sudden appearance. "You are a wealthy lady and deserve better than... than... something like that! That's a shame!"

"You're a shame", the elderly lady was interrupted by an icy and monotonously voice and only seconds later Elizabeth came around the corner. She was dirty, her clothes were ragged, her arm was bandaged and she had several wounds and hobbled.

"Oh Elizabeth ... I did not mean-"

"Save yer excuses," she came over to Mary and Bert and handed them a bag of food she had just taken from her backpack.

Elizabeth was well known in some parts of the city. But this was not because of her stealing but because of her engagement - because she cared a lot for injured and helped with the construction. Yes, people appreciated her and her actions. Above all, this made one proud: Bert.

"What's wrong with ya, Miss Evans? Do you want t' forbid the two the contact, just because they aren't from the same class? We don't live in 1910! Everyone should be dealing with the people that make you feel good! And it doesn't matter if it's purely friendly," she glanced at the two," or out of love." Mary and Bert looked at each other as her cheeks turned red.

Miss Evans walked away sheepishly and Elizabeth dropped herself beside the two. She leaned her head against the stony wall and closed her eyes. She frowned and she was breathing heavily, but then she straightened up and took her notebook out of the backpack. In it, she drew a small but meaningful line on the last page - the 8th to be exact.

"Everythin' alright?", Bert asked hesitantly.

She did not answer him. Instead, she closed the book, packed it in her backpack, and took a piece of bread out of the bag. While she was nibbling on it she inspected a bleeding wound on her swollen ankle: "Later I 'ave to take care of it..."

For a felt eternity none of them said a word. Surprisingly, it was Elizabeth who broke the silence: "It was a young firefighter..." Mary and Bert exchanged a meaningful look before turning to the young woman.

She continued, "I was on Shoe Lane when I saw three firefighters... Two of them were standing in front of a 'ouse when the wall collapsed. I jumped and grabbed their jacket. William, the one firefighter, and I just could made it barely out of the rubble... the other couldn't…" she raised her bandaged left arm,"I just 'ad t' be a few seconds faster…" she said looked at the two with an empty look, "Two firefighters 'ad t' see 'ow their friend 'ad t' die in front of their eyes!" Liz played with the bandage on her arm: "Leonard, who stood next t' us, was replaced just minutes before. It would almost be 'im…"

"Lizzy," Bert put a hand on her shoulder, "I know it's not easy... but without you the others might 'ave died, too…"

"Maybe... but it doesn't change the fact that I 'ad to draw another line in my book!" She paused, "Do ya know what the worst is? In contrast t' the seven others I really 'ad the opportunity to prevent a death! This fuckin' war pisses me off!" She hit the ground aggressively and grabbed her hair.

Mary stayed calm all the time, for a good reason: she knew she could not join in the conversation. She has never experienced anything like that - no one ever died beneath her hands. Bert, on the other hand, unfortunately knew all this too well.

"This may sound a bit hard... but you can't 'elp everyone, Lizzy. You 'ave chosen t' 'elp people and now you 'ave t' learn t' 'andle it… "

Elizabeth just stared at the floor and nodded silently. But her thoughts said something else: 'I didn't choose this…'

I'm not a fan of this chapter to be honest. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to put it into as it has been in my head ...

According to my overview comes next chapter, which brings the story back on track and I'm really looking forward to your reactions on it!

I'm currently planning and if I can roughly estimate, Part III alone will cover 30-35 chapters - if not even more!