“And we need to be as quiet as we can,” Polly said. “We don’t want a warden to catch us and drag us into a shelter.”

“You forget, I’m a warden,” Colin said, tapping his helmet. “If he—or she—stops us, I’ll simply tell them that I’m taking you somewhere safe. Which, as a matter of fact, I am.”

He led the way, supporting Mr. Dunworthy and keeping close to the buildings. It had rained. The pavement shone with wetness, and, even though there were still clouds, the sky directly overhead was clear. In the wake of the searchlights, she could see stars.

As they neared Trafalgar Square, Colin said, “I hope it’s less crowded than the last time I was here.”

“You came to VE-Day to find me?”

He nodded. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to find you because I hadn’t found you, but at that point I was willing to try anything. And I wanted to see you.”

“And did you?” she asked, thinking of Colin somewhere in that celebrating crowd, searching for her.

“No, some wretched child tossed a firecracker at me and nearly blew my foot off. But it wasn’t a total loss. I got kissed by a large number of pretty girls.” He grinned his crooked grin at her.

“Ah, not quite as crowded, I see,” he said as they came into the deserted square. The fountains had been shut off, and the lions slumbered in the gray and silver silence. Even the pigeons were asleep.

Sleeping Beauty’s palace, Polly thought, and its spell seemed to fall on them. They passed silently through the square and down to the Strand, moving like wraiths through the darkened, deserted streets.

They ran into several diversion barricades and had to go around, till Polly was thoroughly lost, but Colin seemed to know exactly which way to go. Twice, at crossings, he took Polly’s arm to keep her from pitching off the curb, and once, on an uneven brick pavement, he took her hand. Otherwise he didn’t touch her, though even in the blackest lanes when she couldn’t see him at all, she was sharply aware of his presence.

It grew lighter as they neared the Thames. The searchlights were blunted against the overcast sky, and the fires from the docks stained the clouds pink, and they were able to see their way more easily. The diversions had forced them farther west than their original plan. The twin spires of Westminster Abbey lay directly ahead of them, and beyond the Abbey, the tower of Big Ben.

“It’s half past eleven,” Colin said as they went down the steps to the Embankment. “We need to hurry,” and they set off quickly along the walled walk, following the curve of the river.

The air should have smelled of mud and fish, but it didn’t. It was cool and clean and smelled of rain. And once, lilacs. They walked quickly, silently, past the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Bridge and Cleopatra’s Needle. I’m seeing all this for the last time, Polly thought.