Free Songs of Spring by Amy Myers

A bomb had hit the Odhams printing works in Long Acre. Although not many people were working there, the cellars were crowded with people sheltering from the raid. Most of the dead were children, and of the women killed one was their office cleaning lady. That was why there was no fire. Out of respect, they left it unlit for the rest of the day.
     
    The death of Mrs Hopkins depressed Caroline greatly. That unlit fire symbolised for her the whole stupid wastage of human life this war had caused. On the 30th, the day after the second raid, there was more bad news at work too, especially for Yves. The Germans had scored a victory in Brussels in their long-running battle against the clandestine newspaper La Libre Belgique . Arrests were not uncommon, but this time they had tracked down not only the two most wanted contributors, code-named Fidelis and Ego, but hundreds of others too, distributors, organisers and printers.
    Caroline moped for several days over the general gloom of this winter – until Yves produced a bag from behind his back, and flourished it. She had finished work early since it was a Saturday and returned home to tea to find Yves just arrived – he had been out of the office since early that morning.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘See!’ Proudly he tipped the contents onto a plate on the living-room table.
    ‘Muffins!’ she shouted in delight. ‘We can have real tea. Where did you get them?’
    ‘ Cara , I cannot provide the Rectory for you, but I can be second best,’ he said seriously. ‘Stolen muffins are a small price. I acquired them in the Belgian Embassy. There is good news to celebrate.’
    ‘ Good news?’ Was there such a thing nowadays?
    ‘Sir John told me that Daniel is bringing Felicia home to Ashden Hospital.’
    For a moment she could hardly take it in. Then all at once the full glory hit her. ‘She’s going to live!’ she cried in triumph.
    ‘She’s well enough to make the journey.’
    ‘That does mean she’ll live. Oh, how wonderful.’ She promptly burst into tears.
    Yves regarded her anxiously. ‘There is more good news too. Can you bear it? On Thursday night Governor von Falkenhausen was toasting their victory over La Libre Belgique with champagne when a special delivery arrived. It was a copy of the next issue of the newspaper with a photograph of the Governor on the front page and a jeering message. The editor, whom the Germans mistakenly thought they had arrested, has found new printers, and business is to be as usual. Now you can have your muffin.’
    ‘Did you really steal them?’ she asked when she could speak again after all the excitement.
    ‘I cheated. I put in an order for them to feed couriers bearing vital intelligence from Belgium.’
    ‘This courier is very grateful.’ Caroline promptly bit into one. ‘It’s real,’ she said contentedly. ‘Not made of potatoes.’
    ‘Nor am I.’ He put his arm round her and kissed her.
    ‘I wish you hadn’t done that,’ she complained.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I don’t want to leave this fire.’
    ‘Why should you? There is a comfortable sofa here.’
    She laughed. ‘Suppose Luke comes in?’
    ‘He will not. He is on a special mission chasing wild geese, and it’s Ellen’s day off.’ By this time his lips were on hers, and she wouldn’t have cared if the Kaiser himself had come in.
    ‘All this – and muffins too,’ she purred, as he took her into his arms.
    It was her turn for office duty on the Sunday, and she set out for work early. Today she lit the fire. It was her personal signal to the enemy that the embers of England still glowed, and would burst into flames once more – no matter what they did.

Chapter Four
    ‘Watch what you’re doing with that milk, Myrtle.’ Margaret spoke more sharply than she intended.
    ‘It’s not on the rationing list.’ The mutter was scarcely audible but Margaret caught it.
    ‘Butter will be, and you already need ration cards for it in London. And to think you were brought up