A MOMENT BEFORE HEAVEN
London braced itself again as high above the drone of the German bombers became more insistent. The sirens had been sounding for half an hour giving everyone plenty of time to get to a shelter.
Henry Watson had just managed to close his shop in Hackney Road and scamper down Cambridge Heath road to the underground as the first bombs fell.
It was mid October 1940 and the bombers had been coming over every night since early September. East London was taking a hammering because of the nearby docks and many small industrial factories in the area. Bethnall Green had been heavily hit, even in Parmiter Road where Henry lived.
As Henry reached the lower level he was greeted by a near neighbour Fred Smailes who saw him arrive.
"Wotcher 'enry, left it a bleeding bit last minute haven'ch." grinned Fred.
"Ah gotta give them Jerries summit to aim at don't I." responded Henry with a lopsided grin.
"Some chance mate, them buggers don't give a sod wot they 'it. Never mind, me and Marge kept you a space." said Fred.
"Wotcher Marge." greeted Henry.
"'ello love, how yer been?" smiled Marge and her look made Henry's heart flip flop. He had always been sweet on her, ever since school days but when he had gone to learn about running his grocery shop, Fred had hopped in and married her.
Henry flopped down next to her in the space they had kept for him. The Underground was pretty full tonight so although he knew most people there from school and as customers, most of them had their kids there and they could get pretty noisy.
The ground suddenly shook as a bomb burst nearby and showers of dust rained down on everyone. This was followed by another close hit and Marge grabbed his arm in alarm. He allowed her to snuggle closer for a while and when it went quiet again they laid themselves out on the blanket Marge had brought. She had also brought a cushion for Henry as well.
"Wonder how long this lot will stay?" asked Fred.
"As long as their fuel lasts I expect." said Henry. " But they might have another lot already on its way."
"Oh well, better settle in for a doze then." said Fred and proceeded to settle himself with his back to Marge.
It was pretty quiet for about 15 minutes and people began to settle in to sleep. They could still hear faint explosions away to the west. Fred was soon snoring and Marge turned over to face Henry.
"You awake love." she whispered.
"I am chuck -- what's on your mind then?" Henry whispered back.
"Was wondering how you're coping since you lost Anne last month?" Marge asked softly.
"Not well love. She was a big part of our business and my life. It's lonely without her and hard to stay focussed now she's gone." Henry replied sadly.
Marge leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Well love just let me know if there is anything I can do for you. Shudn't be saying but, I still have a fancy for you. Don't know why I married Fred; I should have waited till you came back."
"Thanks Marge, I still love you too but with Anne gone so recent and sudden, it don't seem right somehow." Henry murmured.
"Never mind love, things have a way of sorting themselves out." Marge said and then held him tight in a passionate cuddle.
He could feel himself beginning to respond because it felt good to be held by a woman again. Anne hadn't been one for passion or even love making. She was always too busy organizing things to be bothered by that side of life.
So he just settled for enjoying the cuddles until he fell asleep. He didn't hear the second wave of bombers arrive and only woke when Marge kissed him and said "Time to go home love, the all clear has sounded."
He joined the exodus from the underground and like them was astounded by the mass destruction of nearby buildings, the fires that had started and the noise of the fire engines and ambulances arriving.
His flat in Parmiter St was just across the road and despite a couple of near misses was still intact. He spent about an hour helping to rescue an elderly couple from their ruined flat across the road then finally about 2:30 am climbed into bed.
Sleep was what he needed but his mind was full of Marge. Like most folk around here she was of mixed background though he had no idea of her heritage. She had been born here in the East End and he had known her since she was about 5 years old. He was only a few years older than her at 38. She had grown into a very attractive woman about 5 feet 6 inches tall with raven hair and big breasts.
He agonized for a long time about his feelings for her and his guilt that with Anne's death from a direct bomb hit on the bus she was travelling in, he was already thinking about another woman.
No, that wasn't right; he was thinking about someone who had been part of his growing up years. Someone that had taken him from boyhood to manhood all those years ago and whom he had almost married. And it was his best friend who had stepped in and nabbed her.