That was the power of live broadcasting, and Hugh raised a grim smile.
9
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER4, 1940
“With a railway map” before her and a list of towns beside her, Aleida planned her survey.
When Aleida had proposed recording the problems faced by evacuees, Miss Granville had shown no interest. Until Aleida suggested a positive report might persuade mothers to send their children to the country.
Miss Granville did have concerns about a foreigner inquiring about the children, but no one else in the department was free for the venture.
Aleida marked locations where children had been received, places where she could also ask about Theo.
So many towns, and her heart dove low. But each town offered a sliver of hope.
Motion and noise, and Aleida lifted her gaze from the map.
A tall, dark-haired man in his thirties marched out of Miss Granville’s private office and out of the department.
Miss Sharma scurried to Aleida’s desk with a light in her big eyes. “Granny had a fit.”
“Shh.” Aleida couldn’t allow herself to laugh at the disrespectful nickname, no matter how appropriate. “Were you listening at her door?”
“Always.” Miss Sharma rested her hands on Aleida’s desk and leaned closer. “I don’t know who he was, but Miss Granville was not pleased at his visit. Did you notice how quickly he left?”
“You don’t know who he was?” Aleida frowned at the front door. Miss Sharma had worked for the ministry for five years—two years longer than Miss Granville—and she seemed to know everyone.
And the man had entered as if he owned the place. “Doesn’t he work here?” Aleida asked.
“No, I’ve never—”
“Ladies.” Miss Fuller stood nearby, glaring at them. “We mustn’t gossip, especially about our superiors.”
Miss Sharma rolled her eyes for Aleida alone, then gave Miss Fuller an innocent smile. “I only wish to guard Miss Granville’s schedule. That gentleman didn’t have an appointment, and her time is valuable.”
Aleida ducked her head to hide a smile.
“Oh! It’s time for lunch. How time flies.” Miss Sharma grabbed her purse.
Aleida wanted to become better acquainted with her. “Would you like to get lunch?”
“Thank you, but I’m meeting friends.” She waved and departed.
“Why do you keep asking her?” Miss Fuller cast a dark gaze at the shutting door. “Those Indians eat strange foods, and they keep to themselves.”
Did they keep to themselves out of choice? Or due to a lack of welcome? Aleida hardly blamed Miss Sharma, but she also disliked eating alone. “How about you, Miss Fuller? Would you like to get lunch?”
“I’m eating at home, but thank you.”
Aleida stifled a sigh and set on her hat.
“Want some fish and chips?” Louisa Jones stood at the counter with two newspaper-wrapped bundles.
“Louisa!” Aleida sprang to the counter. “We’ve missed you this past week.”
Louisa raised an eyebrow at the door shutting behind Miss Fuller. “Real friendly sorts.”
“They’re fine in the office. But—”
