The Safest Place in London Read Free Page A

shuttered and dark, and on the corner was, unmistakably, the entrance to a tube station. They saw the comforting red and blue and white of the Underground sign and the stream of people disappearing into its depths. Which tube station it was hardly seemed to matter: Whitechapel, Shoreditch ( was there a station at Shoreditch?) . . . Stepney, perhaps?
    ‘Here we are—almost safe now!’ Diana shouted above the rising noise of the siren, for they had made it, the two of them; in this hostile environment, they had triumphed!
    But Abigail promptly sat down and refused to move. At this display of defeatism when they were so close to their salvation, Diana felt a moment of despair. She kneeled down, and pleaded with her child to get up, but Abigail closed her eyes and shook her head resolutely. ‘Teddy doesn’t want to go down there!’
    From where Diana was standing Teddy looked extremely keen indeed to get down into the safety of the tube station, but sadly he was in no position to say so. ‘Very well, then. I’m going to leave you both here on your own to fend for yourselves.’
    At this, Abigail scrambled to her feet and flung herself at her mother’s legs. This hampered their progress, especially as Diana was carrying her best handbag and a small travelling case containing sundry other items she had thought it necessary to bring with them on this day trip into London, along with some that she had procured during the course of the day, but they were at least moving in the right direction and, once they joined the flow, the sheer mass of urgent and frightened people behind swept them along so that really all one had to do was to keep on one’s feet and not trip.
    In this manner they were carried down a short flight of steps and across a concourse, they squeezed through the open turnstiles (one did feel a little conspicuous not purchasing a ticket, even under such unusual circumstances) and found themselves at the top of the escalator.
    The crush of people was suddenly much denser as they were funnelled onto the stationary escalator and Diana grasped the handrail with one hand and her child’s hand in a fierce grip with the other, not caring at this moment if she hurt her, concerned only with keeping both eyes on the lip of the stairwell just ahead.An old woman wrapped in a grubby blanket blocked their way. Another woman, much younger with a determined expression and a small child in tow, grabbed the old woman’s arm and practically pushed her down the escalator. But now the crush of bodies behind them intensified and almost at once Diana lost her grip on the handrail and was swept away down the escalator, her feet barely touching the ground, and she scooped Abigail into her arms in the nick of time.
    Phee-oow! Phee-oow!
    Unseen enemy bombers flew overhead dropping incendiaries, or perhaps landmines—it was hard to tell, especially if you were more used to reading about the raids in The Times than experiencing them firsthand. But there was no need to look up for they were safely inside the station and all Diana could see above them was the enormous curvature of the enamel-tiled ceiling that led down to the platforms and the streams of people on all sides. The bottom of the escalator was in sight and with one final leap into the unknown they were at the bottom, carried by the sea of people onto the eastbound platform.
    They had made it, they were safe, and she held Abigail tightly to her. All they had to do now was find a spot where they could sit tight and wait it out.
    But there was no spot.
    Every inch of space was taken. Diana stood in the entranceway in silent dismay as around her the platform dissolved into a sea of bodies all trying to find a place on the hard concrete with whatever blankets and bedding they had brought with them, seething and wriggling like the glistening black cockroaches that had frequented the cellar of her dad’s old shop in Pinnerbefore the First War and that scuttled away to the corners