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Back When We Meet Again
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?

Nelson greeted her with his wet nose, and she bent down to scratch his neck. “I’m sorry I’m late. The bus was so crowded I had to wait for the next one.” She quickly looped her bag and gas mask over the back of the chair before she sat down, gathering her coat self-consciously across her lap.

“Can’t be helped,” George replied in his gravelly voice, “and you’re here now.” He smiled broadly as he leaned back in his chair, lifting his elbows as he smoothed back his wisps of hair with both hands.

He was the younger of the two sons in the publishing family, and he had a gregarious and generous nature. He’d given Alice an opportunity, ignoring the gaps in her education as if he already knew what other powerful men didn’t—that thousands of young women like her around the country were completely unqualified for the roles war had chosen for them but immensely capable, nevertheless.

He leaned forward abruptly, resting his arms on the desk in front of him, which reminded her where Rupert got his habit of fidgeting from. “Actually, we started early because there have been some developments. Tommy, why don’t you fill Alice in?”

The boardroom had formerly been a morning room, its ornate light fixtures and oversized windows allowing in plenty of light as well as providing glorious views over Russell Square. Spread across the vast table were several editions of Bomber Command and The Battle of Britain, their eye-catching covers featuring images that had become all too common in recent months: the faces of actual pilots—the real heroes of the empire—not fictional characters. In the six months following its release by the Ministry of Information, The Battle of Britain had sold nearly five million copies to become a surprise bestseller, and none of them—not Penguin nor Hutchinson nor any of the other major book publishers—had been able to replicate the success.

“Rumor has it they’re planning a new one on minesweepers,” Tommy said, leaning across the table to push the latest edition toward her.

“You can imagine the drama and intrigue in that one,” Emily said, raising an eyebrow.

“The truth is, we can’t really compete with the Ministry anymore,” Tommy said, sounding glum. “We need some big new ideas of our own.”

George stood and moved over to the window, leaning his shoulder against the architrave, hands thrust into his trouser pockets as he gazed out onto the grass square.