No Tomorrow Excerpt - Anne Morris Books

“Hello,” the woman said.
“Hello,” Lizzy said in return. “Do sit down.”
“Thank you; I find I can’t stand too long. I’m Anne or Ana,” she remarked as she settled in the chair next to Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth. I’m feeling a little out of place since it was my sister who was invited. I fear I was an after-thought,” she admitted. The woman was her mother’s age, with dark hair that was peppered with gray. Her clothes were exquisite and looked new.
Ana laughed. “I am too. It used to be that I was the one sought out, but now it is my son and daughter. I, too, am relegated to being an after-thought.” She shifted in her chair. “I’m sorry, perhaps that is rude of me. I’m being sentimental—but I think I’m always sentimental these days. I only meant that we old people are never wanted; it is the young people who are wanted. They are needed in so many ways. To fight this dreadful and costly war, but also to ensure that life goes on.” A finger was pressed against her lips as if she were sharing secrets and should stop.
“I understand,” said Elizabeth. “It’s our burden to keep going, no matter the cost. We have many roles to play and often pay with our lives.” She thought of all the people in her department who had parachuted into enemy territory and would never return. There were rumors of a massive Allied invasion on the Continent, but those were only rumors, and no one knew when that would happen. The ghastly attempt by the Canadians to land at Dieppe the previous August had shocked the nation.
“And mothers fear for their sons,” said Ana.
“Your son is fighting?” asked Elizabeth.
“Yes and no. He straddles two worlds. He is an army officer, yes, but few these days aren’t in the service in some capacity. He has done his duty since before England declared war on those Nazi scum. He has drive and was focused at the beginning, but something has changed him.”
“What happened? Did he fight? I know that battle often changes men,” she said sympathetically.
“William, as I said, straddles two worlds,” Ana mused. Elizabeth couldn’t help her heart leaping at the name, and she peered at the face closely when she had been intently staring at the emptiness of her coffee cup. The black eyes were similar, though the shape of the face was different.
“He’s a good boy,” Ana continued. Elizabeth couldn’t help the small smile. What mother doesn’t say that of her son? “Proud, very proud. That comes from my side of the family. I fear that it’s in his blood. His father was so kind; it was why I fell in love with George.” Ana Darcy’s cheeks glowed the same way that Jane and Lady Dalbury’s did. “William was doing his part for the war effort here, but he got permission to come get me. You see, after my husband died, I took my daughter back to Greece to live. To be near family, you understand, don’t you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Family is important, yes,” she agreed.
“Yes, and he came to get me and Georgia out of Thessalonica as he feared it would be the first place to fall if the enemy invaded,” her companion explained, wanting approval.
“When did he come get you?” Elizabeth asked, her heart beating so quickly she was surprised that Ana didn’t notice.
“It was May of ‘40. He brought my daughter and me back to England. Then he went back to fight. First against the Italians when they invaded in the fall of 1940, and then against the Germans when they came to shore-up the Italians the following April.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help the intake of breath. That was more fighting than she had realized. Orestes Kokkinos had said he and William had fought together against the Germans on the last day of fighting in April ‘41 on mainland Greece before fleeing to Crete. While Germany’s conquest of Crete had been accomplished in a month, William had been in Greece for more than seven.
“That spring was a horrible time,” said Elizabeth.
“Horrible, yes. My homeland overrun. So many innocents killed. The Nazis are ruthless, the reprisals…” Ana stopped speaking. Her breathing was just as elevated as Elizabeth’s. She shook her head. “This is not a very lady-like conversation for a dinner party.”
“I fear the war changes things,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes. The war changed many things. It changed William, as I said. But even before the fighting. I would have blamed the fighting for it, the darkness that he carries. But this was before. It was when he came to Thessalonica in 1940 to get Georgia and me. Something happened to him, but I’ve never been able to figure out what. He never speaks of his work, and I know he cannot speak about what he does. But a mother continually worries about her children, so I wonder what happened to rip the kindness out of him—even before he experienced the horrors of war.”