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Back When We Meet Again Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. POPULAR BOOKS FROM THE ERA
  53. When We Meet Again
  54. A Conversation with Caroline Beecham about When We Meet Again
  55. Discussion Guide
  56. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  57. What’s next onyour reading list?

As she passed the security fences of the closed Palace Pier, Alice thought how strange it was that her mother hadn’t seemed concerned by her loss of income or the extra expenses of the baby clothes and pram they would have to buy. Ruth’s usual parsimony made it even more surprising. Although she didn’t show it, perhaps she felt a small amount of pleasure at the prospect of a grandchild.

When Alice arrived back at the guesthouse, Hope was in the hallway, her long gray hair wound into a bun, a patterned apron obscuring her dark clothing. She greeted Alice with a solemn smile. “I’m sorry, pet, but your mother isn’t going to make it down today. She says there’s disruption on the tracks.”

The trains were frequently diverted, the lines commandeered as soldiers took priority, but apparently this was the third time it had happened just when Ruth had planned to visit. Alice found that difficult to believe, and tears pricked her eyes.

To distract herself from her loneliness she’d explored the seafront and hidden parks and squares. When it rained she’d taken refuge at the cinema, and when her feet had grown too sore or her back ached, she’d found a spot, like she had that morning, to sit and read. It had worked for a while, minimizing her anxiety. But now she really needed to see her mother, and she was angry and hurt that Ruth clearly didn’t want to see her.

She sighed heavily, and Hope put her bucket down and placed her hands on Alice’s shoulders. “How about you come to the sitting room, and I’ll make us some lunch?” she said sympathetically.

“Thank you,” Alice said, looking into her aunt’s pitying gray eyes—eyes that reminded her of her father’s—“but I think I’ll just go lie down.”

Over the past several months she’d felt betrayed, angry, afraid and excited, but no emotion had been as heartfelt as the disappointment that ached inside her now.

“All right, pet, but you let me know if you change your mind. I’ve got fresh eggs—I could make you an omelet.”

“I’m fine, honestly, Hope. Thank you, but you have them.” Alice sniffed then tried to smile. “I’ll be down later.” She climbed the stairs to her room, wondering, as she had the last time Ruth had let her down, whether her mother had become unstable again or if she just couldn’t face her anymore—and what that said about the future.

Six

New York, March 1943