But Mike hadn’t been there on VE-Day. What if he’d gone with her? “Did Mr. Davis come to the boardinghouse this afternoon?” she asked Mrs. Rickett. “Did you show him this note?”

Mrs. Rickett drew herself up angrily. “I most certainly did not. I haven’t even seen your Mr. Davis today. I am not in the habit of handing over my boarders’ mail to their gentleman friends.”

“No, of course not,” Polly said hastily. “It’s only that I’m so worried. They should both have been here hours ago, and the raids are so bad tonight.”

“There’s nothing you can do till morning,” Mr. Dorming said.

Nothing except worry, Polly thought, listening to the crumping bombs and wishing she knew when Bank Street had been hit and what else had been bombed. And where Mike was. What if he’d spotted Eileen as she was leaving Mrs. Rickett’s and followed her? And then lost her in the crowd at Bank and didn’t realize she’d taken Alf and Binnie to another station? What if he was still at Bank looking for her?

You don’t know that he followed her, she thought. He could very well have gone to check your drop. Or to Fleet Street to deliver an ad and couldn’t get back. He’d been late last night because he’d been working on a story. He’s very likely in the cellar of the Herald and Eileen’s at a tube shelter which wasn’t hit, trying to prevent Alf and Binnie from picking other shelterers’ pockets, and the best thing you can do is get some sleep.

But the bombs kept waking her, and she crept off twice to see if either of them had come back to the emergency staircase.

The all clear went at half past five. “But they’ll have to wait till the trains start,” the rector said.

“I know,” Polly said, and gave them half an hour extra, in case the first trains were too crowded to squeeze onto, but they still didn’t come.

“They may have gone home and assumed they’d meet you there, Miss Sebastian,” Miss Laburnum said, folding up her blanket.

“I thought of that, but I’m afraid if I leave—”

“You’ll miss them,” Miss Laburnum said. “I quite understand. You stay here, and if Miss O’Reilly’s at home, I’ll tell her where you are. And I’ll stop at Mrs. Leary’s on the way and tell her to tell Mr. Davis.”

“I’ll be here for at least another hour,” Mrs. Brightford said, pointing at her still-sleeping girls, “so if you want to go look for her, I can have her wait here till you return.”

“Thank you!” Polly said gratefully, and ran out to each of the platforms to see which lines weren’t running, and then stationed herself at the foot of the District level escalator so she’d be able to spot Eileen and Mike no matter which way they came in from, searching the crowd anxiously for an orange scarf or a green coat.

There was Eileen, emerging from the northbound tunnel. “Eileen!” Polly called, and ran over to her. “Thank goodness!” She looked past her into the tunnel. “Is Mike with you?”