(SIR) MR I. CHESTERTON

“Yes, I’ll try. I’ll try.” Barbara sighed. Ian was right. It didn’t do more good for anyone staying awake. Old habits died hard, she supposed. Her younger self was convinced if she just stayed awake, if she just never slept, the bombs wouldn’t get her.

But she soon learned that bombs didn’t discriminate. 

It didn’t stop her from trying. She was barely nine after all. Now she was thirty-four. It was so silly, she was an adult not a scared little girl, and yet…and yet…

She laid down in bed, still holding Ian’s hand a moment too long before finally letting go and curling onto her side. 

She tried to close her eyes, but just as she did something boomed in the distant. Her eyes shot open and she sat up in bed with a jolt. Breathing heavily and gasping. “Oh Ian, I–I can’t stand it here!”

He’s holding her to him before he even knows what he’s doing. He had intended to leave her there, but just like that, there she was again, sat up, white as a sheet. 

“I know, Barbara, I’m sorry....” Arms around her close. His best friend had never seemed to so frazzled, so upset. His hands gently pulling away, only to put his thumbs on her cheek.  “If I could take you home right now, you know I would. But we have to stay, just for now. Just for tonight....”

“I’m surprised you were able to sleep.” Barbara said softly. She certain wouldn’t be able to. It was like being in a bad dream. The rolling booms, the screech of distant bombs, the roaring of airplanes far far up ahead. She felt like a little girl again. Staying up in fear in her bedroom before the sirens cry pierced the night and her mother came running in to carry her to their make shift bomb shelter.

She half expected her father to come in, in his smart uniform, and promise to see her soon. Or her mother to complain about rations. 

She shuddered slightly on the love-seat, pulling the blanket the husband of the house had given her tighter around her shoulders.   “I keep waiting for the sirens. I keep wanting to run..” 

“I guess I must have been tired after all that running earlier...” For Barbara, the memory of the war was so strong, that Ian wished she could wipe it from her memory. For him, he had only been in London for a short time, before his family had the money to send him to relatives out in the South Coast, but even then, what he did remember was horrid and vivid --- but he didn’t associate them with the horrors that Barbara did.  After all, she had lost her father at that time, and no amount of growing up makes that loss any easier. Not when that time is forced upon her.  He reaches over and takes her free hand.  “We’ll be alright....you should rest, I won’t let anything happen to us, I’ll wake you if anything happens.” He gives her a confident smile, the best he can muster.  “You should sleep, we’ve not had the chance in days, and the Hoskins have been hospitable enough to give us normal beds to sleep in compared to that chair the Doctor gave us....”

        “Mister Chesterton, I assume? — It’s very nice to meet you. Miss Stewart sent me; right now she’s still caught up in a meeting, but it shouldn’t take too long and if you’ve got the time to wait for her… I can offer you tea. Or do you prefer coffee?”

        ❝   JOHNNY  never would have listened.  ❞     kate tells ian,  straight away.  there was no need for the elder man to pour more guilt on to him.  she knew both chestertons,  and knew that there was probably equal blame on both parts.  kate could never call herself an   EXPERT   on  father-child   relationships.   but she knows enough that they are complicated.  her own was testament to that, but kate was eager to reassure ian.      ❝           yes,  he did call.   wouldn’t tell me any details either,  but he sounds happy.  or,  if not happy,  content.   ❞  

        IT HAD BEEN A BOLT OUT OF THE BLUE.   but then again,  johnny never was the most punctual or   in-touch  of her friends.  touring had taken it’s toll, add the divorce and he truly could have been labelled a good ‘screw-up’ by all accounts.  johnny was a good friend,  and kate would always take what she could get.  she was there for him,  and he was there for her,  ever since they were teenagers.  she was  furious  with him for not being more specific,  but god knows she’ll turn up at his house with a frown on her face and he’d tell all.   but that can all wait.

“What just happened?? My wife and I were --- we were ---” everything is so dizzy, as Ian presses a hand to his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts. One minute, they were safe fine, the next... He stood there, feeling dizzy, like he’d been on a merry go round, and was confronted by this strange little man --- and Barbara was missing. 

Barbara was, of course, very delighted that Ian liked her cake. She had guessed on flavours–both with the cake itself and the frosted, but there were no complaints from the birthday boy. A wonderful success, then!

“Now hold on a moment, Mr. Chesterton, the night is still young. And I want to take you for a drink, it’s only proper.” Her smile was gentle, teasing almost, as she softly tapped him on the chest a few times. “You’re thirty nine, nearly ancient, you won’t be able to have late nights for much longer!” Her voice turned rather dramatic, as if she was preforming for the stage, rather than her dear friend. 

“Please Ian? Let me take you out..Our marking will be there in the morning.”

“Are you trying to take me out on a school night, Miss Wright? That’s rather dangerous isn’t it?” He winks, before picking up part of his cake slice, and giving a sigh of delight when he devours it. He licks his fingers as he speaks again to his best friend. “I think maybe you’ve lost a calling not baking for a leaving too, perhaps when you’re retired you should open a cake shop.” He can’t help the smile at her. In fact, it’s so wide it almost hurts his cheekbones. His head tilts as she pokes his chest.