The bottle of lemonade was cool in Grace’s hand. She put the glass to her lips and tilted her head. The sweet, tangy drink filled her mouth with a tartness that zinged at the back of her jaw. She hadn’t realized how parched she’d been until the refreshing wash of liquid ran down her throat.

“What was it like in the Great War?” Viv asked.

They all looked to Mrs. Weatherford, including Colin. Grace knew her own mother’s experiences, of course, but surely life had been far different in London.

“Well.” Mrs. Weatherford glanced about at all their faces. “It wasn’t pleasant. Are you sure you want to know when we’ll likely be facing the same soon?”

“Having knowledge is the best way to fight off fear.” Viv grinned at her. “As you said.”

“How can I say no to such a cheeky reply?” Mrs. Weatherford smoothed her skirt, took a deep breath and told them how it had been years ago. How the rationing of food was so carefully monitored that people could be fined even for feeding pigeons at the park. She spoke of zeppelins and how the light aircraft soared over the city like balloons before dropping bombs, too high for the RAF to reach.

But she also spoke of victory, how the zeppelins were defeated with new planes that could climb to necessary heights, how women were accepted in roles for work and were allowed to vote and how the British people overcame the trying times with a mutual camaraderie.

“What was the worst part of it?” Viv cast a nervous look at Grace. “So we’re prepared.”

Mrs. Weatherford regarded Colin with a rare solemnity before looking away with a blank stare. “The men who didn’t come back,” she said in a quiet voice.

The alarm’s blaring wail pierced the air once more, startling them with its suddenness.

Even in Grace’s jittery state, she noted the siren’s call was different from the first, with a drone holding one long note rather than wavering up and down in inflection.

“That’s the all clear.” Mrs. Weatherford drank the last bit of her lemonade and set the empty bottle in the box. “You’ve all survived your first air raid warning. May there be no more after this.” She gathered up the gas masks while Colin hefted the box, and they all removed themselves from the dismal, cramped little shelter.

It was announced later that evening on the wireless that the air raid warning had been a false alarm.

But what if the next one was not?

Such concerns edged to the forefront of Grace’s mind as she tried to sleep, the silence luring fear from its darkest corners.

The unending string of news on the radio the following day didn’t offer any more information before Grace had to make her way to the bookshop.