Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- POPULAR BOOKS FROM THE ERA
- When We Meet Again
- A Conversation with Caroline Beecham about When We Meet Again
- Discussion Guide
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“It was a miracle when you came along. We were so shocked, but it was obviously God’s will. He decided to bless us after all.” Ruth leaned back in her chair and let out a guttural groan. “I made a promise, Alice. When we were given William, I knew it was wrong in God’s eyes. Then we were blessed with you . . . I knew we would have to pay for it, one day.”
“So, when Eadie was born you decided she would be the sacrifice for the choice that you made.”
Ruth shook her head. “No, it was never like that. I never wanted you to pay for my mistake, or your own; we’ve paid enough with your father’s and William’s lives. No, I thought it would be better for her, and that you could recover from being a fallen woman, and even have a real family of your own one day.”
Alice’s whole being ignited with rage. She held her fists at her sides, suddenly aware of what she was capable of. “I had a real family,” she said. “Eadie and I were family—and now look what you’ve done.”
Twenty-four
London, April 17, 1943
“I want to see the lions,” the boy shouted as he skipped along the path.
“We will . . . just slow down!” his mother cried as she chased along behind him.
The walkways and gardens were crowded with families, children pulling parents from one enclosure to the next, as well as lots of servicemen—American, British and Royal Indian Army—all of whom Alice knew gained entry for half price. In fact, it was as if the two thousand daily visitors had descended at that very moment to invade her solitude. She sat on a bench, watching numbly as the boughs of a tree danced in the wind, white blossoms leaping like kids on a trampoline, the sunlight behind them crafting lacework from the leaves. Children’s squeals and laughter looped and fell, as though distant and then close again. It had seemed like a good idea for a Saturday outing: get the trolley bus to the zoo, stop at the corner store where her father had always bought sweets for her and her brother, re-create their childhood ritual. She had so desperately wanted to build the safe world for Eadie that her father had for her and William, but look how badly she’d failed. And she didn’t even know her family anymore; it was like seasickness, everything she knew kept shifting and changing. She really had no idea what to do next, so she just sat with the half-eaten bag of boiled sweets in her lap, feeling hopeless.