Codes of Courage, page 26
U-boats sent frequent weather reports to their headquarters. If BP could read those transmissions, they’d have a better idea of what the U-boats were saying in all their other messages. “A current one?”
Mr. Turing nodded with a satisfied smile. “I expect you’ll have some c-c-cribs for us soon?”
Millie nodded. Mr. Turing had begun walking away before Millie found her voice again. “Where did it come from?”
Mr. Turing gave a slight shrug. “M-m-maybe a pinch . . . m-maybe the Poles.”
Millie had heard him use that exact phrase before on another curious codebreaker. Wherever the codebook had come from, it was secret, and Millie didn’t need to know that secret in order to do her job, so she would be given no answer. But if it was a current codebook . . . there weren’t many explanations for how it might have arrived in Bletchley Park. Either it had been stolen from U-boat headquarters, or it had been stolen from a U-boat. Pinched by the British or pinched by one of their allies. Each possibility seemed far-fetched, but the proof was in Millie’s hands.
She didn’t forget Karl and go to work. She remembered him and the likelihood that he might soon be tangling with U-boats again, and she put all her efforts into using the codebook as a lever to crack open the German ciphers.
* * *
A few days later, scraps of German weather reports covered Millie’s desk. U-boats condensed their weather reports into a short weather cipher, then ran the messages through their Enigma machines. Then the meteorological stations that received those reports decoded them before using their own codes to send them on. Perhaps someone thought having two codes was more secure than having one, but at Bletchley Park, two codes provided double the opportunities to crack a message. Once the meteorological station’s code was broken, Millie had a good idea of what the original message, encrypted with the Shark Enigma code, would have said, giving the bombe machines a place to start as they ran through all the possible settings in which the suspected text might be the actual text.
When the phone call came, Millie answered and took down the settings given by the bombe operator. A stop on the machine didn’t mean they had broken the code, but it meant they’d found a possibility that encoded the crib without any of the letters encrypting as themselves. Millie used the settings from the bombe’s latest stop to adjust a Typex machine that had been modified to imitate an Enigma, selecting the correct rotors, putting them in the proper order, modifying how they aligned with each other, then choosing the right starting position. Then she typed out the encrypted message. She needed to type but a handful of letters to recognize that only gibberish appeared on the printed tape. Nothing German, in words or abbreviations.
She frowned, but then the phone rang again. Another stop. Another setting to test. And this time, the text that printed across the tape read the wind speed, atmospheric pressure, and temperature at the latest position of Kommandant Baumann’s U-boat. Millie’s breath caught with a surge of gratitude and relief and triumph.
“I think we’re in,” Millie said to the rest of the watch. The information itself might be insignificant, but now that they knew the day’s inner and outer settings for the Enigma machine, the rest of the day’s messages would be relatively simple to decrypt. And those other messages might yield information that would be key in saving a convoy or sinking a U-boat.
Word spread around the hut with an almost tangible elation. Some of the men and women took the information and immediately went to work. Others allowed themselves a few moments of celebration before joining them. February to December, an awfully long time for German U-boat messages to remain unread, but once again, Shark was cracked. She knew what that meant to everyone in Hut Eight who had been working so hard for so long to read the enemy’s transmissions, and she knew what it would mean for Karl and every other Allied sailor on the Atlantic.
The next week flew by as Millie and the others in Hut Eight continued to break open the U-boat cipher. Uncle Silas came. He said very little and smiled a great deal, so Millie assumed the information was being used to route convoys to safety.
Then a week of night watches came. They had never been her favorite shift, but this one left her even more drained than usual. She woke the day after a particularly busy shift and checked the time. Nine. Could that be right? She held her watch up to her ear to make sure it hadn’t stopped working. Then she tugged a small sliver of the blackout curtain free to look outside. Blackness met her eyes. Had she really slept eleven hours? The intensity of her work the last week had been high, but eleven hours? That wasn’t like her, not even when she was tired.
Shirley was in the kitchen when Millie made her way there. “Hungry?”
“Not really, but I suppose I ought to have breakfast. I can’t believe I slept so long.”
Shirley took a sip of tea. The cup covered her mouth, but not before Millie caught what looked an awful lot like a smirk.
“What?”
Shirley put the cup down. “Do you think you’re falling ill?”
“No. Other than being completely exhausted, I feel fine. No congestion. No sore throat. No headache.”
“And your appetite?”
“Nothing sounds appealing at the moment, but you know how it goes when we’re working nights. Supper foods at breakfast time and breakfast foods at supper time and the cafeteria is not at its best in the wee small hours.”
“Mmm hmm.” Shirley poured Millie a cup of tea. “And usually by the week’s end, you’re craving anything salty.”
Millie nodded. Odd meal schedules plus night shifts equaled a desire to eat peanuts or toast with anchovy paste. But that could change depending on whether she was menstruating. She was probably due. She hadn’t given the matter much thought, but she couldn’t remember having a period in November . . . or in October, for that matter.
Oh. Millie chuckled softly because she was fairly certain what a pair of missed periods plus exhaustion plus a reduced appetite added up to. “I wonder if maybe I’m . . .”
Shirley gave her a pointed look when Millie trailed off. “I’ve suspected as much for a few weeks.”
Millie put her fingers on the teacup, feeling the warmth from the liquid inside. “Well, it’s not really unexpected, I suppose. I’ve been married for almost four months, and well . . .” She ran a hand along her neck. “Karl and I are always happy to see each other.”
A baby. The thought made her smile. She was certain it would make Karl smile too. They wanted children. Maybe the middle of a war wasn’t the best time to start a family, but when they’d married, they’d decided the war wouldn’t dictate their lives. “I think I have a letter to write before we ride off to work.”
* * *
18th December 1942
Dearest Karl,
Do you remember when you spoke about setting up train tracks and building doll houses? Well, I think you’ll have a reason to next year sometime. Or maybe not until a few years after because babies don’t really play with toys right away.
This will change everything, won’t it? Life will be a little more complicated, our budget a little more strained. I’m not sure I’ll be able to catch a train at a moment’s notice when you come into port. I’m not even sure if I’ll still be able to work. But even when I worry about how we’ll manage everything, the emotion I most feel is joy. Two people in love plus God’s blessing equals a little one.
I don’t suppose there’s any point wondering if it will be a boy or girl, have your eyes or mine, dark hair or fair. Do you think we’ll have to wait until the baby is born before we’ll be granted clothing rations? I don’t want to be entirely unprepared when the baby comes.
I slept far too much today, and soon, I need to head in for another night shift. This week has left me more tired than usual. I suppose that’s one more thing that has changed.
You’ll write to me soon, won’t you? I’m eager to hear what you have to say.
Love,
Millie
Chapter 37
Karl’s training had provided an intellectual challenge he hadn’t realized he’d missed, but the sea was calling to him—though not more strongly than his yearning to see Millie again. He waited at the village station when her train pulled in with a burst of steam. The village was small and quiet, perfect for a quick reunion with his wife before he joined the crew of the HMS Fireweed as the corvette’s newest coder.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when Millie stepped onto the train platform, but she looked much the same. Of course, she wasn’t very far along yet, and she wore a coat.
He wrapped her in his arms the moment she was clear of the crowd. “I missed you desperately,” he whispered into her ear. “And now there are two of you to miss.”
She laughed into his shoulder. “Can you miss someone who hasn’t been born yet?”
“Most certainly. You and the baby are the most important people in the world for me now.” Her hat blocked the top of her head, so he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Her lips were tantalizingly close, but the wind picked up, and he felt Millie’s shoulders tense at the chill. He’d save a more involved kiss for somewhere sheltered and private. “Let’s get you to the cottage. It’s nice and warm there.”
Three whole days. Just Millie and him. It sounded a lot like paradise. As much as he looked forward to hunting Nazi U-boats and protecting convoys, he wished he could stop time and make the getaway with Millie last. He picked up her bag, and she took his offered arm.
“How are you feeling with . . . everything?” Karl had been old enough to remember when his mother was expecting Anna. He hadn’t noticed much of a change, other than those last months when her dresses pulled tight across her abdomen, but he wouldn’t have known if she went to bed earlier than normal or vomited up her breakfast.
“I can’t remember ever being so tired. Some days, the ride to and from work is enough to wear me out. I’m looking forward to sleeping a great deal on our holiday.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have a pleasant view, then: Millie sleeping.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “I’m planning to do more than just sleep. But I still haven’t received your reply to my last letter.”
“I wrote back.”
“Well, what did it say?”
Karl led her along the village’s main road. “It said that I couldn’t be happier.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The news still left him a bit in awe. Millie would become a mother. He would become a father. Their love would create someone who was part her, part him. Karl had lost his first family, but now he was going to have a new one. “And you?”
Her face grew thoughtful. “Happy. A little uncertain about how everything will work out. I can’t very well take care of a baby and keep working. Not with the nearest family an hour away in London.”
“And I don’t think we can afford a nanny.” The wages of a coder in the Royal Navy were barely above subsistence. Good enough for men without families but a challenge for someone with a wife and child. That was unlikely to change for the duration. He’d been told that regardless of how well he performed his duties, because of his birthplace, he would never rise above the rank of petty officer.
“A nanny? Only rich people and widowers hire nannies.” Millie gave him a teasing smile.
“I had a nanny even before my father was widowed.” That was simply how things were done at Falcon Point, and he’d always expected the pattern to hold for his future family. “You didn’t?”
“Certainly not. There were only three of us. I recall having a maid when we lived in South America, but that was mostly because there were a lot of people who needed work. Sometimes I forget you used to be wealthy.”
“I might be wealthy again, if we win the war and Falcon Point survives.” That was plan the first. But when it came to children, he needed more than one plan, especially since the war didn’t seem to be cooperating with his first child’s due date. “And in the meantime . . . I suppose we ought to figure out what to do. I earn four shillings a day, but I won’t need most of that. I’ll eat and sleep on the Fireweed. I’ll need train fare so I can see you occasionally, but the bus conductors almost never charge a man in uniform. How much do you need for food?”
Millie shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s part of my billet fees. I’ve been handing my ration coupons over to Mrs. Twill, and she does all the shopping. I can ask her how much she spends.”
“Then there’s lodging, and I suppose that will depend on where you live. Have you given much thought to how long you’ll keep working?”
Another shrug.
Karl slowed, then stopped walking, and turned to study her face. Subdued. “Millie?”
“It’s just a lot to think about all at once, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we still have months to sort it out. Things will change, but in a marvelous way. When I got your letter . . .” Karl couldn’t keep the wonder from his voice. “Millie, having a family with you is what I prayed for when the Hillingdon went down and I wasn’t sure we’d ever be rescued. You and this baby are the answer to my prayers.”
He put her luggage down and took each of her hands in his. “How about this? We won’t talk about budgets for this entire holiday. We can figure it out by letter. We’ll have to do that anyway, because we don’t know the right numbers yet. No talk of money. And no talk of the war.”
“We can’t pretend that nothing is going to change. And isn’t it better to figure out our plans while we’re together?” A vulnerability wove its way into her voice and her expression. She didn’t like uncertainty, needed time to get used to change. He should have realized that before, after all her letters and all their previous times together. This was a larger change than most.
He nodded because she had a point. “Maybe we’ll talk about it tomorrow. But not today. Today is just about being with the most wonderful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He pulled her closer and brought his mouth to hers. The wind might still be cold, but he didn’t think the kiss should wait a moment longer.
* * *
Millie pushed aside the blackout curtain to see how late it was. Clouds shadowed the sun, so she reached for her watch before realizing it lay on the wooden chest on the other side of the room. Karl’s side of the bed was empty, and while she regretted not waking up next to him, she was grateful he’d let her sleep. This was what she needed—a few days with her husband, away from the rest of the world.
She put a hand on her abdomen. Her body hadn’t changed much, but somewhere beneath her hand, a little baby grew. She’d been thrilled that first day she’d figured it out and had alternated between worry and excitement ever since. But Karl’s confidence that the news was the best possible thing they could hope for was infectious. The day before, he’d promised to learn how to change diapers and wash bottles and whatever else was needed when families couldn’t afford a nanny.
Karl. She was even more in love with him now than she’d been on their wedding day. Perhaps other marriages between someone born to such privilege and someone born solidly in the middle class would have resulted in hurt feelings and discord when it came time to plan for a new arrival, but she had a feeling that everything would work out for them.
Millie climbed from bed and noticed a paper sticking halfway under the door. She picked it up to read Karl’s words.
My dearest love,
I could scarcely pull myself away from you this morning. You have my entire heart, and you always will. I think I could spend four watches in a row just looking at you as you sleep. Maybe five. But I have a surprise for you, and I need to go get it. I’ll be back soon. And since we planned to discuss budgeting today, I’ll add that it won’t cost us any money. Goodness, I’ve just ruined the love letter, haven’t I? The word “budget” does not belong in a letter in which a husband is professing his love to his beloved wife. I’d start over again, but I’ve looked through this entire cottage and there isn’t much paper to spare. I think I’d better save the other sheets in case we need them. Maybe I’ll be back before you wake up, and I’ll hide this letter away until I can write you a better one.
I love you, Millie. Thank you for being the miracle in my life time and time again.
All my love,
Karl
Millie smiled and brought the letter to her lips. She’d known her husband loved her before this latest time together, and if she’d had doubts, the previous evening would have wiped them all away. Still, she didn’t mind him telling her that he loved her over and over again.
She went looking for breakfast and found bread and preserves. Karl had left a pan out for toast, but she didn’t want to wait that long. She hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, but today, she was hungry. She ate while reading the Bible Karl had left open to Luke chapter two.
She heard her husband’s return before she saw him. The sound of a hammer striking a nail sounded from outside and echoed around the little cottage. She thought it prudent to go see what he was doing, so she went back to the bedroom to change into something presentable.
When she came back, Karl had opened the front door and was dragging a fir tree through it.
“Karl, why are you bringing a tree inside?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Since we decided to celebrate Christmas early, that makes today Christmas Eve. We have to have a Christmas tree.”
The bottom of the trunk was wrapped in a potato sack and had scraps of planks positioned to keep it upright. That explained the hammering. The tiny room had furniture situated all along the walls, so Karl placed the tree in the room’s center, and the woodwork at the bottom held it upright and level.
He rubbed his neck and stared at the top of the tree, where the highest branch nearly brushed the ceiling. “I made sure to measure the height because they never seem as tall out in the forest. But I forgot to think about how wide it would be.”
Mr. Turing nodded with a satisfied smile. “I expect you’ll have some c-c-cribs for us soon?”
Millie nodded. Mr. Turing had begun walking away before Millie found her voice again. “Where did it come from?”
Mr. Turing gave a slight shrug. “M-m-maybe a pinch . . . m-maybe the Poles.”
Millie had heard him use that exact phrase before on another curious codebreaker. Wherever the codebook had come from, it was secret, and Millie didn’t need to know that secret in order to do her job, so she would be given no answer. But if it was a current codebook . . . there weren’t many explanations for how it might have arrived in Bletchley Park. Either it had been stolen from U-boat headquarters, or it had been stolen from a U-boat. Pinched by the British or pinched by one of their allies. Each possibility seemed far-fetched, but the proof was in Millie’s hands.
She didn’t forget Karl and go to work. She remembered him and the likelihood that he might soon be tangling with U-boats again, and she put all her efforts into using the codebook as a lever to crack open the German ciphers.
* * *
A few days later, scraps of German weather reports covered Millie’s desk. U-boats condensed their weather reports into a short weather cipher, then ran the messages through their Enigma machines. Then the meteorological stations that received those reports decoded them before using their own codes to send them on. Perhaps someone thought having two codes was more secure than having one, but at Bletchley Park, two codes provided double the opportunities to crack a message. Once the meteorological station’s code was broken, Millie had a good idea of what the original message, encrypted with the Shark Enigma code, would have said, giving the bombe machines a place to start as they ran through all the possible settings in which the suspected text might be the actual text.
When the phone call came, Millie answered and took down the settings given by the bombe operator. A stop on the machine didn’t mean they had broken the code, but it meant they’d found a possibility that encoded the crib without any of the letters encrypting as themselves. Millie used the settings from the bombe’s latest stop to adjust a Typex machine that had been modified to imitate an Enigma, selecting the correct rotors, putting them in the proper order, modifying how they aligned with each other, then choosing the right starting position. Then she typed out the encrypted message. She needed to type but a handful of letters to recognize that only gibberish appeared on the printed tape. Nothing German, in words or abbreviations.
She frowned, but then the phone rang again. Another stop. Another setting to test. And this time, the text that printed across the tape read the wind speed, atmospheric pressure, and temperature at the latest position of Kommandant Baumann’s U-boat. Millie’s breath caught with a surge of gratitude and relief and triumph.
“I think we’re in,” Millie said to the rest of the watch. The information itself might be insignificant, but now that they knew the day’s inner and outer settings for the Enigma machine, the rest of the day’s messages would be relatively simple to decrypt. And those other messages might yield information that would be key in saving a convoy or sinking a U-boat.
Word spread around the hut with an almost tangible elation. Some of the men and women took the information and immediately went to work. Others allowed themselves a few moments of celebration before joining them. February to December, an awfully long time for German U-boat messages to remain unread, but once again, Shark was cracked. She knew what that meant to everyone in Hut Eight who had been working so hard for so long to read the enemy’s transmissions, and she knew what it would mean for Karl and every other Allied sailor on the Atlantic.
The next week flew by as Millie and the others in Hut Eight continued to break open the U-boat cipher. Uncle Silas came. He said very little and smiled a great deal, so Millie assumed the information was being used to route convoys to safety.
Then a week of night watches came. They had never been her favorite shift, but this one left her even more drained than usual. She woke the day after a particularly busy shift and checked the time. Nine. Could that be right? She held her watch up to her ear to make sure it hadn’t stopped working. Then she tugged a small sliver of the blackout curtain free to look outside. Blackness met her eyes. Had she really slept eleven hours? The intensity of her work the last week had been high, but eleven hours? That wasn’t like her, not even when she was tired.
Shirley was in the kitchen when Millie made her way there. “Hungry?”
“Not really, but I suppose I ought to have breakfast. I can’t believe I slept so long.”
Shirley took a sip of tea. The cup covered her mouth, but not before Millie caught what looked an awful lot like a smirk.
“What?”
Shirley put the cup down. “Do you think you’re falling ill?”
“No. Other than being completely exhausted, I feel fine. No congestion. No sore throat. No headache.”
“And your appetite?”
“Nothing sounds appealing at the moment, but you know how it goes when we’re working nights. Supper foods at breakfast time and breakfast foods at supper time and the cafeteria is not at its best in the wee small hours.”
“Mmm hmm.” Shirley poured Millie a cup of tea. “And usually by the week’s end, you’re craving anything salty.”
Millie nodded. Odd meal schedules plus night shifts equaled a desire to eat peanuts or toast with anchovy paste. But that could change depending on whether she was menstruating. She was probably due. She hadn’t given the matter much thought, but she couldn’t remember having a period in November . . . or in October, for that matter.
Oh. Millie chuckled softly because she was fairly certain what a pair of missed periods plus exhaustion plus a reduced appetite added up to. “I wonder if maybe I’m . . .”
Shirley gave her a pointed look when Millie trailed off. “I’ve suspected as much for a few weeks.”
Millie put her fingers on the teacup, feeling the warmth from the liquid inside. “Well, it’s not really unexpected, I suppose. I’ve been married for almost four months, and well . . .” She ran a hand along her neck. “Karl and I are always happy to see each other.”
A baby. The thought made her smile. She was certain it would make Karl smile too. They wanted children. Maybe the middle of a war wasn’t the best time to start a family, but when they’d married, they’d decided the war wouldn’t dictate their lives. “I think I have a letter to write before we ride off to work.”
* * *
18th December 1942
Dearest Karl,
Do you remember when you spoke about setting up train tracks and building doll houses? Well, I think you’ll have a reason to next year sometime. Or maybe not until a few years after because babies don’t really play with toys right away.
This will change everything, won’t it? Life will be a little more complicated, our budget a little more strained. I’m not sure I’ll be able to catch a train at a moment’s notice when you come into port. I’m not even sure if I’ll still be able to work. But even when I worry about how we’ll manage everything, the emotion I most feel is joy. Two people in love plus God’s blessing equals a little one.
I don’t suppose there’s any point wondering if it will be a boy or girl, have your eyes or mine, dark hair or fair. Do you think we’ll have to wait until the baby is born before we’ll be granted clothing rations? I don’t want to be entirely unprepared when the baby comes.
I slept far too much today, and soon, I need to head in for another night shift. This week has left me more tired than usual. I suppose that’s one more thing that has changed.
You’ll write to me soon, won’t you? I’m eager to hear what you have to say.
Love,
Millie
Chapter 37
Karl’s training had provided an intellectual challenge he hadn’t realized he’d missed, but the sea was calling to him—though not more strongly than his yearning to see Millie again. He waited at the village station when her train pulled in with a burst of steam. The village was small and quiet, perfect for a quick reunion with his wife before he joined the crew of the HMS Fireweed as the corvette’s newest coder.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when Millie stepped onto the train platform, but she looked much the same. Of course, she wasn’t very far along yet, and she wore a coat.
He wrapped her in his arms the moment she was clear of the crowd. “I missed you desperately,” he whispered into her ear. “And now there are two of you to miss.”
She laughed into his shoulder. “Can you miss someone who hasn’t been born yet?”
“Most certainly. You and the baby are the most important people in the world for me now.” Her hat blocked the top of her head, so he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Her lips were tantalizingly close, but the wind picked up, and he felt Millie’s shoulders tense at the chill. He’d save a more involved kiss for somewhere sheltered and private. “Let’s get you to the cottage. It’s nice and warm there.”
Three whole days. Just Millie and him. It sounded a lot like paradise. As much as he looked forward to hunting Nazi U-boats and protecting convoys, he wished he could stop time and make the getaway with Millie last. He picked up her bag, and she took his offered arm.
“How are you feeling with . . . everything?” Karl had been old enough to remember when his mother was expecting Anna. He hadn’t noticed much of a change, other than those last months when her dresses pulled tight across her abdomen, but he wouldn’t have known if she went to bed earlier than normal or vomited up her breakfast.
“I can’t remember ever being so tired. Some days, the ride to and from work is enough to wear me out. I’m looking forward to sleeping a great deal on our holiday.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have a pleasant view, then: Millie sleeping.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “I’m planning to do more than just sleep. But I still haven’t received your reply to my last letter.”
“I wrote back.”
“Well, what did it say?”
Karl led her along the village’s main road. “It said that I couldn’t be happier.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The news still left him a bit in awe. Millie would become a mother. He would become a father. Their love would create someone who was part her, part him. Karl had lost his first family, but now he was going to have a new one. “And you?”
Her face grew thoughtful. “Happy. A little uncertain about how everything will work out. I can’t very well take care of a baby and keep working. Not with the nearest family an hour away in London.”
“And I don’t think we can afford a nanny.” The wages of a coder in the Royal Navy were barely above subsistence. Good enough for men without families but a challenge for someone with a wife and child. That was unlikely to change for the duration. He’d been told that regardless of how well he performed his duties, because of his birthplace, he would never rise above the rank of petty officer.
“A nanny? Only rich people and widowers hire nannies.” Millie gave him a teasing smile.
“I had a nanny even before my father was widowed.” That was simply how things were done at Falcon Point, and he’d always expected the pattern to hold for his future family. “You didn’t?”
“Certainly not. There were only three of us. I recall having a maid when we lived in South America, but that was mostly because there were a lot of people who needed work. Sometimes I forget you used to be wealthy.”
“I might be wealthy again, if we win the war and Falcon Point survives.” That was plan the first. But when it came to children, he needed more than one plan, especially since the war didn’t seem to be cooperating with his first child’s due date. “And in the meantime . . . I suppose we ought to figure out what to do. I earn four shillings a day, but I won’t need most of that. I’ll eat and sleep on the Fireweed. I’ll need train fare so I can see you occasionally, but the bus conductors almost never charge a man in uniform. How much do you need for food?”
Millie shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s part of my billet fees. I’ve been handing my ration coupons over to Mrs. Twill, and she does all the shopping. I can ask her how much she spends.”
“Then there’s lodging, and I suppose that will depend on where you live. Have you given much thought to how long you’ll keep working?”
Another shrug.
Karl slowed, then stopped walking, and turned to study her face. Subdued. “Millie?”
“It’s just a lot to think about all at once, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we still have months to sort it out. Things will change, but in a marvelous way. When I got your letter . . .” Karl couldn’t keep the wonder from his voice. “Millie, having a family with you is what I prayed for when the Hillingdon went down and I wasn’t sure we’d ever be rescued. You and this baby are the answer to my prayers.”
He put her luggage down and took each of her hands in his. “How about this? We won’t talk about budgets for this entire holiday. We can figure it out by letter. We’ll have to do that anyway, because we don’t know the right numbers yet. No talk of money. And no talk of the war.”
“We can’t pretend that nothing is going to change. And isn’t it better to figure out our plans while we’re together?” A vulnerability wove its way into her voice and her expression. She didn’t like uncertainty, needed time to get used to change. He should have realized that before, after all her letters and all their previous times together. This was a larger change than most.
He nodded because she had a point. “Maybe we’ll talk about it tomorrow. But not today. Today is just about being with the most wonderful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He pulled her closer and brought his mouth to hers. The wind might still be cold, but he didn’t think the kiss should wait a moment longer.
* * *
Millie pushed aside the blackout curtain to see how late it was. Clouds shadowed the sun, so she reached for her watch before realizing it lay on the wooden chest on the other side of the room. Karl’s side of the bed was empty, and while she regretted not waking up next to him, she was grateful he’d let her sleep. This was what she needed—a few days with her husband, away from the rest of the world.
She put a hand on her abdomen. Her body hadn’t changed much, but somewhere beneath her hand, a little baby grew. She’d been thrilled that first day she’d figured it out and had alternated between worry and excitement ever since. But Karl’s confidence that the news was the best possible thing they could hope for was infectious. The day before, he’d promised to learn how to change diapers and wash bottles and whatever else was needed when families couldn’t afford a nanny.
Karl. She was even more in love with him now than she’d been on their wedding day. Perhaps other marriages between someone born to such privilege and someone born solidly in the middle class would have resulted in hurt feelings and discord when it came time to plan for a new arrival, but she had a feeling that everything would work out for them.
Millie climbed from bed and noticed a paper sticking halfway under the door. She picked it up to read Karl’s words.
My dearest love,
I could scarcely pull myself away from you this morning. You have my entire heart, and you always will. I think I could spend four watches in a row just looking at you as you sleep. Maybe five. But I have a surprise for you, and I need to go get it. I’ll be back soon. And since we planned to discuss budgeting today, I’ll add that it won’t cost us any money. Goodness, I’ve just ruined the love letter, haven’t I? The word “budget” does not belong in a letter in which a husband is professing his love to his beloved wife. I’d start over again, but I’ve looked through this entire cottage and there isn’t much paper to spare. I think I’d better save the other sheets in case we need them. Maybe I’ll be back before you wake up, and I’ll hide this letter away until I can write you a better one.
I love you, Millie. Thank you for being the miracle in my life time and time again.
All my love,
Karl
Millie smiled and brought the letter to her lips. She’d known her husband loved her before this latest time together, and if she’d had doubts, the previous evening would have wiped them all away. Still, she didn’t mind him telling her that he loved her over and over again.
She went looking for breakfast and found bread and preserves. Karl had left a pan out for toast, but she didn’t want to wait that long. She hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, but today, she was hungry. She ate while reading the Bible Karl had left open to Luke chapter two.
She heard her husband’s return before she saw him. The sound of a hammer striking a nail sounded from outside and echoed around the little cottage. She thought it prudent to go see what he was doing, so she went back to the bedroom to change into something presentable.
When she came back, Karl had opened the front door and was dragging a fir tree through it.
“Karl, why are you bringing a tree inside?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Since we decided to celebrate Christmas early, that makes today Christmas Eve. We have to have a Christmas tree.”
The bottom of the trunk was wrapped in a potato sack and had scraps of planks positioned to keep it upright. That explained the hammering. The tiny room had furniture situated all along the walls, so Karl placed the tree in the room’s center, and the woodwork at the bottom held it upright and level.
He rubbed his neck and stared at the top of the tree, where the highest branch nearly brushed the ceiling. “I made sure to measure the height because they never seem as tall out in the forest. But I forgot to think about how wide it would be.”
