Elizabeth felt her blood heating up at the well-aimed barb, but before she could respond, the thin droning of an airplane made itself heard above the clatter in the shop. Everyone fell silent. Even Rita ceased her chatter to listen.

“One of ours?” one of the women asked fearfully.

“Hard to tell.” Marlene walked over to the door. “Whatever it is, it sounds as if it’s in trouble.” The spluttering sound of an engine confirmed her observation.

Rita got up from her chair, and, like sheep, the other four women followed. Marching in line wearing their helmets of metal curlers, they looked for all the world like ancient soldiers heading into battle. Elizabeth watched them all in the mirror as the spluttering grew more pronounced.

Marlene opened the door and stepped into the street. As she did so, one of the women uttered a loud shriek. “My God, it’s a bloody Nazi! There’s a swastika on its tail!”

“Inside, everybody!” Rita yelled. “Take cover! We’re being invaded!”

“I don’t think so,” Marlene said, staring skyward. “I think the poor bugger’s trying to land.”

Her words galvanized Elizabeth into action. Thrusting aside the green cape, she leapt from her chair and rushed to the door. The rest of the women charged in the opposite direction, nearly sweeping her off her feet in their hurry to find shelter.

Joining Marlene on the pavement outside, Elizabeth shaded her eyes against the bright sunlight as she followed the young girl’s transfixed gaze. The plane was indeed a German bomber, longer than a Messerschmitt, but with the distinctive black German cross on each wing. Her stomach heaved. Her parents had been killed in London during the Blitz. Probably by bombs from a plane like this one.

In spite of the danger, she felt compelled to watch the plane dip lower as the engine coughed and spluttered again, then died altogether. The bomber seemed to be coming right at her, yet her legs refused to move. She felt as if her entire body had turned to ice.