Hugh gaped at him. Never had he heard his father speak in such a manner.
“Nigel...” Mother’s voice warbled.
Father took two steps closer to Hugh, one finger raised, the light in his eyes building. “You, my boy, are brilliant on the wireless. Brilliant. I’ve listened to your reports lately.”
He had? Hugh’s chest caved in.
“You ... you have?” Mother said.
“You should too, Mary.” Father stood taller than Hugh had ever seen him. “I will hear no more talk about Hugh resigning from the BBC.”
Mother’s mouth and eyes stretched wide. Had Father ever stood up to her in all their years of marriage? She wobbled in her seat, then drew herself up straight. “Very well, Nigel.”
Hugh wobbled too, as if the very foundations of the Collingwood family had shifted, which perhaps they had.
“Hugh.” Father fidgeted with his hands as if he wanted to reach out to his son but didn’t know how. “I am—I am very proud of you. I always have been.”
As a man who made his living by talking, why could Hugh find no words? His mouth opened, empty. But his heart opened, full.
48
STEVENAGE, HERTFORDSHIRE
SATURDAY, MAY24, 1941
Hunkered under an umbrella, Aleida and Hugh scurried to the house Mr. Randolph rented in Stevenage, about ten miles from Collingwood Manor.
On the porch, Hugh lowered the umbrella and shook it out.
Aleida’s stomach jolted side to side, up and down, and she gathered back her hair on one side. “I wish I hadn’t cut my hair.”
Hugh took her hand, and her hair swished down around her chin. “If he remembers you, he’ll remember your voice, your smile, your lovely eyes.”
“And if he doesn’t remember...” Her breath snagged.
“Shh.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.
She inhaled Hugh’s love and God’s peace. “If he doesn’t remember, we’ll make new memories, the three of us.”
“Right you are.” Hugh kissed her nose. “Are you ready?”
For a year and a fortnight—379 days—she’d dreamed of this moment, labored for it, agonized over it, even surrendered it. Now it had arrived. And now, every word and thought and action had to be only for Teddy, not for herself.
At her nod, Hugh rang the bell.
Mr. and Mrs. Randolph opened the door and let Aleida and Hugh inside.
Dora Randolph wore her fawn-brown hair rolled around her face, and she had large eyes of the gentlest brown. Aleida liked her at once.
“Welcome. It’s so good of you to come.” Dora pressed her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, Julian. Her eyes—so like Teddy’s. How could you have doubted her?”
Julian stammered and flushed.
“Please don’t.” Aleida took Dora’s hand and smiled at Julian. “I am thankful for how you protected a vulnerable child, for how you’ve cared for him.”
Dora’s mouth twitched beneath her fingers. “We do apologize for keeping you away—”
“For keeping Teddy safe? Please don’t apologize.” Aleida squeezed the woman’s hand. “God placed him in your arms, and you have cherished him. When I think of all the horrible things that could have happened—they didn’t happen because of you.”
