Durability - Michael James

Will was unable to sit still. He paced the almost empty waiting room of Dr Bloom’s office on Harley St, rehearsing what he was going to say to the eminent gynecologist whom his lady friend was visiting. But he kept trying to convince himself that silence was the better course of action: he should wait, he told himself for the doctor to reveal himself first. That way Will would be most able to dodge any insinuations from the medic about Audrey’s condition.

At last the doctor come into the waiting room, walked straight up to him and motioned for him to follow. They went through a doorway and into a smaller room. The doctor closed the door quietly and stood still looking at Will.

"Lt Jeffries, I must ask you a delicate question for which I need a forthright answer. Is it possible, as far as you know, for Miss Wentworth to be pregnant?”

Will’s blood froze and he held his breath involuntarily. Time stood still. When he finally breathed, it was to enunciate a quiet, “Yes.”

"Thank you for being honest with me. This will allow me to make a more thorough estimate of the cause of her condition. You may go home now. I shall call you when I have news. Audrey’s parents will take her home.”

"Thank you, Doctor,” said Will as he walked slowly from the waiting room and out onto the dark street in time to hear the first air raid siren begin its mournful wail. He quickened his pace and broke into a run.

Warm. No other sensation, not even sound, though he can feel air going in and out of his lungs as if by its own volition. He seems to be either suspended or on a very soft bed for he feels no pull of gravity.

"Lieutenant.” The woman’s voice is soft and inquiring. “Nod your head if you hear me.”

Nod. “Normally?” Shake. “Faintly?” Nod. “Very faintly?” Nod. “How about now. Is this louder?” Nod. “I have my mouth close to your ear. Are you comfortable?” Nod. “This is how we will communicate. All right?” Nod. “You are going to sleep now.”

The floating sensation again, but now he feels as if the element he is in is starting to move. Gradually it feels as if he is flowing over a waterfall and sliding into a pool below. Warm.

Welcoming. All-embracing. Again only the susurration of breath coming and going.

In the distance Will could hear the “crumph” of exploding bombs muffled by the distance and the buildings between them and him. They would be getting nearer by the minute and he had to hurry to the nearest Underground station at Regents Park. If trains were still running, he hoped to be able to reach his post by the end of the raid. But he had a long run ahead: up Harley St, right on Devonshire all the way to Portland Place, then left to the crescent and the Regents Park Underground. Let’s hope the air raid wardens don’t try to stop me, he thought.

The major would be fuming as usual if he were not at his post when the first UXB was called in. The image of his superior officer’s red face barking at him spurred Will to greater speed but the flack was already popping and the searchlights pointing overhead when he reached the Regents Park station. He practically fell down the long flight of stairs and into the tube when the first bomb went off in the street overhead.

Audrey’s doctor was pulling him by the arm into his surgery in a desperate hurry. Audrey had a bomb in her belly ready to go off. He had to disarm it quickly. But where were his tools? He cast around the room calling for them and the doctor only brought him a scalpel. Where was his bag?

"What’s the matter? Do you need something?” the soft voice addressed him.

Quiet. He’d been dreaming. Breathe in, then out, then in and out with machine-like regularity. Calm now; the storm is over.

By the time he reached his post, the bombing raid was over in his section and Lt Jeffries and the rest of the UXB squad fanned out over their area to answer calls regarding suspicious holes in the ground. He was taken to one quickly. Already there was a fence around it and the ARP’s were clearing the nearby houses. The Lt recognized the group that was digging down to the bomb and he stood by watching them work as daylight crept over the scene. A house nearby was still being hosed down after a bomb fire. Ambulances and fire engines were scrambling along the streets. When the diggers had uncovered most of the bomb, they stopped their work and climbed out of the hole.

"Five hundred pounder, Sir,” said the first man. “Looks like one of them new detonators. Let’s hope I’m wrong.”

"Amen,” answered Will as he lowered himself into the muddy hole.

He stood astride the iron beast which still had its nose in the muck, and cleared away the last of the earth around the little door in its side through which he had to go to disarm it. Briefly he stood up to see that no one was standing around the edge of the hole. But all had been shooed away by the ARP and he was free to do his best.

That bloody frenchie he’d used with Audrey must have broken. He determined then and there that he would devote his life after the war to developing the perfect condom, one that would never rupture, would fit snugly so stay on, and not deny sensation. He’d seen some sheathing created for the war, including the gloves he wore to feel movement in the mechanism of the detonators, which could easily be used to make condoms for peacetime. Where are those gloves he wore tonight? He should look at them more closely.

"Is there something you need, Lieutenant?” Nod. “Is it something you need to know?” Nod. “About what happened to you?” Nod. “The bomb you were working on blew up. They think you were getting out of the hole to fetch a different tool when it went off. Your body armor saved you. Let’s go to sleep now. You’ve heard enough for today.”

Calm. Again the warm river and he floating downstream. Dissolve in the warm water, he told himself. Let yourself float on and on and into the sea. Resist the machine. Quit breathing. Rest. Rest. Rest.