Page 46 of The Lost Story of Sofia Castello

45

LONDON, 1941

But nothing happened. I could still hear the hum of the planes and the boom of explosions and people crying out and the wail of the sirens, but there on the roof, I was still breathing. We were still breathing. I could feel Trafalgar’s chest going up and down on top of mine.

I dared to open my eyes and saw the folds of parachute silk all over the roof beside us, and the cylindrical shape of the bomb beneath. It was only a few yards away. Why hadn’t it exploded?

Trafalgar was clearly thinking the same. He wriggled off me and grabbed my hand.

‘Quick,’ he said, and he led me over to the door and we raced down the stairs.

‘What happened? Why didn’t it go off?’ I gasped.

‘It must have a faulty detonator. It happens sometimes.’

We burst out onto the street and started to run. A deafening boom reverberated through the ground, seeming to shake the buildings from their very foundations, and there was the sound of glass shattering as windows exploded. Trafalgar wrapped himself around me, and it took me a moment to realise that he was trying to shelter me from getting hit by the shrapnel and shards of glass raining down. Screams rang out from nearby. We turned the corner to see an apartment building with part of its front blown off. The air was filled with a choking cloud of dust.

‘Use your scarf like a mask,’ Trafalgar instructed before doing the same with a handkerchief.

We hurried over to the rubble in front of the building and started helping the wardens, digging people out.

I’m not sure how long we were there – time became this strange thing I was no longer conscious of as the bombing went on and on.

‘Do you think it will ever end?’ one of the wardens asked at some point.

One of the other helpers shrugged. ‘That bastard Goering has really lost his temper tonight. I don’t think he’s going to stop until he’s destroyed all of London.’

Finally, the all-clear sounded. As the last of the ambulances left, Trafalgar looked at me and gave a heavy sigh. His dark hair was grey with dust, his shirt was torn and his face streaked with dirt. We walked back to the Savoy in stunned silence. At one point, I saw a severed hand lying in the middle of the road. It was like being in a surreal nightmare that just wouldn’t end.

Thankfully, the Savoy was still standing and had escaped any damage. The lobby was abuzz – it was the worst attack of the war yet. Apparently even the Houses of Parliament had been struck, and most shockingly of all, Queen’s Hall had suffered a direct hit from an incendiary bomb and been left in ruins. Hearing this utterly devastated me, and the last thing I wanted was to be around other people. I didn’t want to be on my own though either. We reached the lifts and I turned to Trafalgar.

‘I don’t want to leave you,’ he whispered, echoing my thoughts.

‘I don’t want you to,’ I whispered back.

We went up to my room in stunned silence. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and gasped. I was so covered in dust, I looked like a ghost. My ears were still ringing from the noise, and my body was still numb with shock.

‘I should have a bath,’ I murmured. ‘Wash this off.’ But I wasn’t able to move.

Trafalgar nodded and went into the bathroom, and I heard the sound of water running. Some time later, he reappeared and took my hand and led me into the room. The bath was full, and the steamy air smelled of the rose salts.

‘Can I?’ he asked softly, reaching for the top button of my blouse.

I nodded, and he began to undress me. But it didn’t feel sexual. It didn’t feel like anything, I was still so numb. Even when I was standing in front of him in my underwear, I didn’t feel self-conscious.

‘Would you like me to leave?’ he asked, and I shook my head.

I slipped out of my underwear and stepped into the water. It was the perfect temperature. Almost too hot but not quite, and it quickly warmed me to the bone. I slid down further and further until my head was completely submerged. When I came back up, Trafalgar had taken his clothes off and was stepping into the tub. I still didn’t feel a thing. But I was glad of his closeness. I couldn’t bear the thought of being left alone. I kept thinking of Queen’s Hall and how, just a few hours previously, it had been full of music and life and defiance. And yet, in an instant, it had been reduced to rubble.

I brought my knees up to my chest to make room for him. He kept his gaze on me, and I couldn’t look away either. That connection was all that was keeping me grounded. It was all that was keeping me from drowning in fear and despair. Then he reached under the water for one of my feet and gently pulled it towards him, bringing it to rest on his chest, where he gently caressed it. It was such a simple thing and yet it was the most intimate and reassuring experience of my entire life. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the water, my body slowly starting to relax as Trafalgar stroked the life back into it.