An Ordinary Life by Amanda Prowse

An Ordinary Life by Amanda Prowse

Author:Amanda Prowse [Prowse, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 2021-02-08T16:00:00+00:00


THIRTEEN

St Pancras, London

May 1945

Aged 20

Molly lifted her head from her pillow. It was 3 a.m. A good three hours before her alarm was set in her St Pancras digs, and yet here she was, wide awake and smiling at the noise outside her window. It was no surprise to her that people were out celebrating, of course, especially when those who had been away fighting and posted overseas began to trickle home from the far-flung corners of the earth. Over the last week or so, she had in the middle of the night listened to life beyond the window, occasionally popping her head up to the curtain to watch the beer-drinking, flag-waving antics of the passers-by. Everyone shrieking their laughter, giddy with joy at the fact they had come through, but also excited at the many wonderful things that lay ahead: all the promises they couldn’t wait to fulfil, written in ink to those they loved while not daring to believe they might come to fruition. Celebrations were highly charged, as the returning heroes swaggered the streets arm in arm with sweethearts, family and friends, declaring they would never let them out of their sight again, never! Blinded by the novelty of being home, they seemed not to notice the bomb craters in the roads, the gaps in the streets where houses used to stand or the many families, like Mr and Mrs Davenport, her old neighbours, crying behind their curtains with mixed feelings: delighted for the safe return of their neighbours’ sons, while reminded that their own would never come home. And Molly knew what it felt like to be conflicted in this way. She hated the bitter spike of jealousy that lanced her heart whenever she heard of another lucky soul who was now reunited with his loved ones. Even when she heard that her own dear brother, David, was on his way back, a small voice echoed, ‘But not Johan, not my love, never him . . .’

She watched the faded net curtain flutter in and out on the breeze. There was much joy to be taken from waking to the light shining through the glass and to see the moon and stars twinkling overhead, without any need now for the blackout. The lamplight sparkled on the brass button that lived on her bedside cabinet and she sighed with contentment. No longer did she have to wonder whether the bed in which she slept was in the direct path of one of Hitler’s bombers or try and calculate how long she would be allowed to sleep before that darned siren sounded and she would have to traipse down to the Anderson shelter at the end of the road, wearing her coat over her nightclothes and with a blanket around her shoulders. And moreover, Joe was safe! He had survived the war and would be coming home. Her heart lifted at the thought. It was a new dawn and a new age, where fearful routine, safety checks, broken



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