Daughters of Liverpool by Annie Groves

the tarpaulins, Luke could hear the music from the dance band down below them. He had a mental image of the snooty girl with her shiny dark curls and her plain silver-greydress, which had somehow looked so much more eye-catching than the fancier dresses of any of the other girls, going quietly from table to table lighting candles. It was an image at odds with his initial impression of her. She hadn’t struck him as the sort that would do anything as homely as light candles, never mind be quick-thinking enough to find some and put them to good use in the circumstances. She was probably only doing it because she wanted to see if there were any rich blokes about, Luke told himself cynically, unwilling to give her any real credit for thinking of others.
       
    ‘Are you all right, love? Can you stand up?’
    Emily wasn’t sure. She ached all over, but at least her rescuer had removed the debris that had fallen on her. As she turned her head to look at him, Emily could see that he was extending his hand to help her. Emily blinked and focused on the ARP band on his arm. There was glass and debris everywhere, and the air smelled of smoke and fear and roasting poultry.
    Watching her sniff the air, the warden told her, ‘They got St John’s Market, so that’s half the city’s Christmas dinner gone up in smoke, along with the rest.’
    The warden was still waiting for her to make an effort to stand up. Reluctantly Emily did so, exhaling shakily in relief when the boy moved with her.
    To her astonishment she actually seemed to be in one piece and unharmed, and the boy too, unlike some of the buildings nearby.
    Taking the ARP warden’s outstretched hand, Emily struggled to her feet, dragging the boy with her. All around her Emily could see blown-out windows, the road a mass of broken glass and roof slates, a front door sticking up at an odd angle from amongst the rubble of what had been a wall. The whole northwest side of the city seemed to be on fire. The street was empty apart from themselves.
    Apprehensively Emily turned round to look towards the theatre, her breath easing from her lungs in a creaking gust of relief when she saw that the building was still standing. She was just about to ask the ARP warden if he knew if anyone had been hurt, when there was a sudden whoosh of sound, followed by the loudest bang Emily had ever heard, which would have had her diving for the ground again if the warden hadn’t kept hold of her.
    Another warden came racing up the street. ‘That was the chemical factory in Hanover Street,’ he told them breathlessly. ‘The Corporation’s had to send to Lancashire for reinforcements, we’ve got that many fires burning.’
    Emily was properly on her feet now, and the boy with her, miraculously also unharmed.
    ‘You two are a lucky pair,’ the warden told her. ‘There’s a bomb dropped on Roe Street that’s left a crater the size of a house, and if you’d been a dozen or more yards down the road, you’d have had it and no mistake—’ He broke off and cursed under his breath as a fire engine came racing down Roe Street towards them, and the bomb crater.
    ‘No, stop!’ The warden ran towards it, waving his hands and yelling in warning, but it was too late. Right in front of her eyes Emily saw the fire engine, with its crew on board, plunge right into the crater, with a sickening sound of breaking glass and tearing metal.
    ‘Jeff! Pete!’ the warden was calling out, Emily and the boy forgotten as two other ARP men raced with him towards the crater, from which flames were already emerging.
    Emily took the boy’s hand and turned away. There was nothing they could do, after all.
    To the north, the whole of the city along the shoreline seemed to be on fire and the planes were still coming, attacking the dock area now, the night sky illuminated by the growing number of fires and the coloured arcs of the tracer bullets from the anti-aircraft batteries.
    The ARP men by the crater were saying