When the explosion comes it picks him up and throws him down hard onto the road. He notes Paul at his side. He glances back at the house and coughs. He can’t stop coughing. The windows of the house are like eyes of flame looking down on them. A demon is taking the house and laughing at how powerless they are to stop it. He hears a wailing noise he assumes must be the dog, but then realizes he still has the dog pressed hard against his chest; he can feel its tiny body shaking. No, the noise is a siren, growing louder. Paul is crouched over Wentworth where he lies on the pavement. Tyler had forgotten Wentworth. Paul touches the man’s wrist and then bends forward and kisses him. Why is he doing that? Not a kiss, CPR. He’s forcing air between Wentworth’s tight lips. It looks strange, Paul Enfield’s thick lips pressed against Wentworth’s cigarette-puckered mouth. Each time Paul blows he has to pull away for a moment and cough. He hacks up a wad of phlegm and spits it onto the pavement. He has no spare breath to give but he gives it nonetheless.

Tyler kneels in the road and watches the house burn.

day seven

The Second Great Fire of London, 1940

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The Second Great Fire of London, 1940

Back then they were like family to you. A pair of elderly spinsters, though perhaps the word doesn’t apply in their case. Today they would be labeled lesbians.

Sometimes Edna, and especially Lily, would tell you stories about how they met during the war. How they watched for fires from the rooftop. They both liked stories, though Edna was more interested in “the Greats.” Edna, the born teacher; even the smallest exchange of pleasantries came with a built-in history lesson. Nero and Rome, Caesar and the Library. Those stories come from her originally, though you’ve done your own research since. And the greatest of them, the event she never tired of talking about—the Blitz.

Blitzkrieg. From the German word for lightning, classic weapon of the gods. In this case in the form of the German Luftwaffe, raining down fire upon Britain’s cities for eight long months. London wasn’t the only city affected, of course; even sleepy Sheffield had its turn in the spotlight as the Nazis attempted to cripple British industry. But almost half those killed by German airstrikes were in the capital. And there was one night in particular. The 29th of December, 1940. The night Lily and Edna sat up watching for fires. The 114th night of the Blitz. The night that would come to be known as the Second Great Fire of London.