We'll Meet Again by Mary Nichols

bat, not because of instructions from the MOD with a time set for it to be completed. I can’t tell them there are dozens of these secret bunkers all over East Anglia.’
    ‘And so they believe the worst?’
    ‘Yes. What is it they say? The first casualty of war is truth. How right they are.’
    ‘What does Mama know?’
    ‘After what happened, I had to tell her something but noteverything. She came to the site when Bill was lying unconscious after the blacksmith pulled him out, and she could see some of it. We can’t use it now, too many people know about it, so I’ve told the men to close it up and make it safe. It was all for nothing. Bill died for nothing.’ His voice cracked. ‘Mrs Stevens blames me and I don’t blame her. I have lost a faithful servant and a good friend and I can’t forgive myself so how can I expect anyone else to forgive me?’
    ‘Oh, Papa, you must not feel like that. It was an accident. Mr Stevens was a casualty of war, just the same as if he were in the front line trenches, flying an aeroplane or sailing the seas. You were both doing your duty.’
    He turned to smile at her. ‘Bless you, child, do you think I have not tried to comfort myself with that? The trouble is that I can’t see past the funeral and the knowledge I shall have to say something to the congregation. I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.’
    ‘You will, Papa, because you are strong and honourable, and Mama will come round, you’ll see.’
    He sighed and patted her hand. ‘I hope you are right. You had better go back to her, she needs you.’
    The funeral was held the day before Prue was due to go back to Bletchley. The whole village turned up, even the schoolchildren, who were shepherded into the back pews by Miss Green. The Earl and the Countess, with Prue between them, sat in the Le Strange pew. She was holding their hands, hoping her love and strength might flow from one to the other through her. Never in her whole life had she known her parents to be so at odds with each other and it was hurting badly. She wished Gillie were there. He was so strong he would be able to knock their heads together, which is what she felt like doing.
    She listened to the Reverend Mr Bradshaw intone, ‘I said Iwill take heed to my ways; that I offend not in my tongue. I will keep my mouth as it were a bridle while the ungodly is in my sight. I held my tongue and spake nothing. I kept silence, yes, even from good words, but it was pain and grief to me …’ Who, she wondered, had chosen that psalm? She squeezed her father’s hand and he turned to look at her and then at his wife. She was staring straight ahead.
    The Rector finished. ‘As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be: world without end.’
    The congregation murmured ‘Amen’ and the Earl rose and went to stand beside the coffin. Everyone watched him expectantly. He cleared his throat several times, then put his hand on the coffin, as if drawing strength from it. ‘Bill Stevens was more than a servant to me,’ he said. ‘He was my companion and friend through thick and thin. We served together in France in the Great War when we were young. We grew old together. But this war is different. It involves the whole population, men and women, old and young, servicemen and civilians. It is total. Bill understood that. He wanted to do his duty to protect those he loved and he died doing it. I …’ He paused to collect himself. ‘I regret the manner of his death more than I can say and my thoughts are with his wife and family at this sad time …’ His voice trailed away. He looked down at the coffin. ‘Goodbye, Bill, my friend, may you rest in peace.’ And with that he stumbled back to his seat. Except for Edith Stevens who was sobbing quietly, the congregation was utterly silent, there was not even a cough, a murmur or the rustle of hymn book pages. Prue could almost feel their stares on the back of her neck.
    The Rector read the twenty-third