Adela went to leave, but Joyce caught her arm.
‘Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you, Adela. I know how difficult things are for you, how much you miss your family. I... I just want you to know how fond I am of you.’
Adela smiled, her beautiful blue eyes lighting up the dim interior of the mobile library.
‘Nisht geferlekh,’ she shrugged.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Yiddish for no big deal.’
‘But it is,’ Joyce persisted, gesturing to the perfectly curated interior of their travelling library. ‘We’ve worked so hard on this, you and I.’
They had worked flat out for the past two months, painting and fitting out the mobile library, fixing the shrapnel-shattered wing mirror, badgering the council for more funds for electricity, lighting and heating, and arguing over book selections. She wondered if they’d been working so hard in order to forget their troubles.
‘Do you think about Dorotha much?’ Joyce ventured, tracing her fingers up the bookshelves.
‘Every day,’ Adela replied, her gaze sliding to the floor.
‘Your sister would be so proud of you. I promise, when we’re all reunited, I’ll make sure to tell her what an exceptional young woman her little sister is.’
Adela’s head jerked up, her eyes filling with tears. ‘And when do you think that will be?’
Joyce shook her head.
‘I wish I could answer that, my love. But I have a feeling that wherever Dorotha is, she’ll be resisting in her own way.’
There was a silence into which they poured all their hopes and dreams, that wherever Dorotha and the rest of Adela’s family were, they were alive and had each other for comfort.
‘It’s time to show Nan off. Now, shall I drive?’ Adela asked, briskly changing the subject. Joyce nodded with a rueful grin.
‘You’d better.’
‘Cooey.’ The door to the mobile library opened and up stepped Mitsy. ‘I’m so glad I caught you both.’
Adela took her arm and helped her into the mobile library.
‘Gracious, would you look at this,’ the elderly lady exclaimed, her pale eyes lighting up in surprise. ‘I’ve seen some things in my time, but nothing quite as unexpectantly magical as this.’ She clapped her soft, liver-spotted hands in delight. ‘It’s a perfect little library in miniature.’
‘Thank you,’ Joyce glowed, feeling absurdly proud, until Mitsy looked her up and down.
‘Oh dear. Is that what you’re planning on wearing for the launch?’
Joyce looked down at the drab tweed skirt and grey blouse she’d snagged at the WVS jumble sale last week. The skirt was a little on the large size for her slender frame, so she’d wrapped a gentleman’s tie around the waistband to stop it sliding down.
‘Erm, yes.’
‘No, no, no, darling. That will never do. I purchased you this from a divine little store in Knightsbridge. You’ll wear this instead.’ From her bag she pulled out a box tied in green ribbons.
‘Go on then, open it.’
Bemused, Joyce untied the ribbon and eased open the nest of soft tissue, to find the most exquisite pistachio-coloured gown.
‘I thought it would go with your new blonde hair,’ Mitsy said. ‘Go on, slip it on.’
Speechless, Joyce allowed Mitsy and Adela to help her into the dress.
‘It’s silk, crêpe de Chine, pin-tucked with shoulder yokes and a pleated skirt and, oh my...’ Mitsy breathed as Adela finished doing up the tiny satin-covered buttons up the back. ‘Don’t you look a picture.’
