“Yes, and at Liverpool Street,” Polly said. “I’m not sure exactly how many. Over a hundred. But the raids weren’t over this part of London, and this station was never hit.”

She told them the February and March raids she remembered. Buckingham Palace had been bombed again, and the shelter at London Bridge Station and a popular nightclub, the Café de Paris, had been hit. She was starting on April when Eileen said, “Before we do any more, can we go to the canteen? I’m starving. What with getting the coats and all, I hadn’t any supper.”

“I’ll go with you,” Polly said, and got to her feet, but Mike said, “We’ll catch up with you. I want to ask Polly about something first.”

Eileen nodded and clattered down the steps. The door clanged shut, and Polly braced herself.

“What happened back there at the escalator?” Mike asked.

“Nothing,” Polly said. “I told you, I was worried because she was so late. Not knowing when the raids are has—”

“It was the coat, wasn’t it?” Mike said. “Is that what she was wearing on VE-Day?”

“No. I told you—”

He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. “Don’t lie to me. It’s too important. That green coat was the one she was wearing on VE-Day.” He shook her again. “Wasn’t it?”

It was no use. He knew.

“Tell me,” he said, tightening his grip. “It’s important. Is that what she was wearing?”

“Yes,” she said, and his grip slackened, as if all the strength had gone out of his arms.

“I kept hoping the fact that she didn’t own a coat like that meant she was there on a different assignment,” Polly said, “that we’d got out after all, and she’d talked Mr. Dunworthy into letting her go to VE-Day later.”

“It could still mean that,” Mike said. “The coat’s obviously the correct period. Wardrobe could have had one just like it. They could have had that coat, for that matter. Or it could have been someone else you saw. You said yourself you were too far away to be sure it was Eileen. She could have left it behind when we went back through, and it ended up at the Assistance Board again, and they gave it to someone else.”

Or it might have found its way to an applecart upset, Polly thought, wishing she could believe that was what had happened.

“And if she was there at VE-Day because we didn’t get out,” Mike said, “I’d have been there, too.”

Unless you’d been killed, Polly thought.

“If something had happened to us, she’d hardly have been there celebrating.”

“That’s not true. Everyone there that night knew someone who’d died in the war. And you and I could both have been killed a long time before—”

“Or we could all have been pulled out, and she was back to do the assignment she’d always wanted to do. Or maybe she decided not to go back after our drops opened. You know how she’s always wanted to see VE-Day—”