indigently as she tried to get the hang of things, before latching on and sucking hard for his first meal.
“Ooh, he’s a fighter, this one,” said Madeline, as they all laughed at his balled fists and determined action. “Tiny as a bird, but a fighter all right.”
“Like he’s at the milk bar!” Betty laughed, looking down. She loved watching the enthusiastic way he suckled, even if it did hurt.
“So what are you going to call him?” asked June.
“I think I’ll name him after my father. William. I lost both my parents to a virus before the war, and I miss them so much still. Always, even after all this time.”
They all smiled at her.
“William,” said June. “He looks just like a William, I reckon.”
Madeline nodded then quietly clapped her hands together. “Let’s give them some time to get to know one another,” she instructed. “Have a little sleep and then we’ll come back with something for you to eat.”
Betty nodded her thanks, conscious of how weary she was. She glanced down at her wee man and saw that his eyes had fallen shut, although his mouth was still sucking, just every so often, like he was hungry even in sleep.
“Good night, my love,” she whispered.
And as the ship continued to sway from side to side, the storm still beating on the deck, Betty let herself fall into the beginnings of slumber, lulling her into its embrace. She tried to forget about the pain, about the aches she was still experiencing, and think only of baby’s little face, and Charlie’s. Her darling Charlie.
She hadn’t dreamt of him since they’d left England, but tonight she had an inkling that she might see him. That she might remember. That she could go back in time and be with him.
* * *
The dance hall was crowded with young people. Betty played with a loose piece of cotton on her dress and shifted from foot to foot. She’d always been uncomfortable in large groups, and the squealing women and thumping music weren’t helping her mood.
Neither was the fact that she was standing alone.
She had walked for five miles with her best friend Lucy to get here. The night air had been warm on their arms, shoulders bare except for their shawls. Her friend’s mother had rolled her hair into a chignon, and she felt wonderful. She’d been nervous, but it had been good just to get out and have fun again. Forget the war and black outs and food rations, and just be young.
If she’d thought about it she would have realized that Lucy wouldn’t be by her side all night. The whole reason they’d gone was because a young American had invited Lucy to join him. And sure enough, they hadn’t been there fifteen minutes before she was whisked away to dance.
Betty surveyed the room again and smiled. She could just make Lucy out, lost in the arms of the handsome Yank she’d been yabbering about for days. Other young people looked wildly in love, wrapped together as the song slowed its beat.
It was silly worrying about standing alone, she knew that. There were men and women dying all over the world in this war, so standing alone while her friend fell head over heels in love was a predicament she should relish.
“Excuse me.”
Betty turned at a deep drawl. Was someone talking to her? Her eyes fell on a man standing less than two feet away. His wide brown eyes shone as he looked back at her.
“Is this seat taken?”
He was talking to her . She looked over one shoulder just to make sure there wasn’t a woman behind her before she made a fool of herself.
“Ah, no. Please go ahead.”
The young man sat down. She squirmed in her seat, not sure what to do. Should she introduce herself? She