The following Tuesday morning, I wake up at 6:45, grinning. For a millisecond, I don't know why I'm so excited. Then it comes back to me.
It's my thirteenth birthday.
"Happy birthday, Elizabeth!!!"
Maddie (who has clearly been awake for quite a while, waiting for me to wake up) hurries over to my bed and tugs on my arm.
"Get up, get up, get up! Uncle's making you a special breakfast!" She squeals.
I almost spring out of bed. "A special breakfast?"
"Yes!" Maddie tells me excitedly. "He says that you get to choose what we have!"
"Really?" I hastily pull on my slippers and catapult downstairs, Maddie following.
Uncle emerges from the kitchen. "Happy birthday, Elizabeth! You're a teenager now!"
I hadn't yet thought of that. Yes, I was now a teenager. Thirteen. My grin widens.
"Thank you, Uncle."
"I assume Maddie has told you that you get to select our breakfast menu for today?" He smiles.
"Yes, she has," I tell him excitedly.
Uncle chuckles. "It'll have to be something I can whip up in twenty minutes. Middle school doesn't just stop happening on birthdays, you know." Maddie rolls her eyes, grinning.
"Er – can we just have bacon and eggs? I simply adore bacon."
"Absolutely. One large platter of bacon and eggs for the birthday girl, coming right up!" He grins once more and hurries back into the kitchen. He pauses on the threshold and turns back around.
"While I'm cooking, you two should get dressed."
"All right," I call after him. He goes back into the kitchen. Maddie and I dash back upstairs and get dressed. As soon as I've put on my favorite purple dress and combed my hair to celebrate what is to me the best day of the year, I race back downstairs and sit down at the table.
"Tuck your napkin into your front," Uncle reminds me. "I don't want you to get egg yolk on that nice dress. But you do look beautiful." I grudgingly tuck in my napkin like I am told, even though I look like I'm about four.
Maddie joins us, wearing a nice red dress to celebrate with me, just before Uncle serves the bacon and eggs. I listen to the inviting sound of the sizzling bacon in the pan as Uncle prods it occasionally, waiting for it to cook all the way. I notice that he doesn't tell Maddie to tuck her napkin into her front, and she doesn't do it herself. She simply puts it on her lap. I sigh. He clearly trusts Maddie to not spill more than he trusts me.
"Breakfast is served!" Uncle calls, brandishing a large plate covered in the aforesaid. He lays it down on the table. Maddie goes and collects forks and knives for everyone.
I begin by plunging my fork into the egg yolk, watching it seep into the bacon and egg white, which Uncle says is called the "albumen". I cut a small portion of the albumen, now covered in the yolk, and eat it. Then I pick up the bacon with my fingers. Uncle usually tells me to use a knife and fork to eat bacon, which is more difficult because bacon is hard to cut, but he doesn't. I suppose it's because today is my birthday. I try to conceal a small smile and crunch into the bacon, savoring that delightful, salty taste that I love so much.
"Have a wonderful day, girls," Uncle tells us later as he ushers us out the door. "And do try to keep those dresses clean," he adds. I pull on my favorite black coat that Uncle got me last year, swing my backpack strap over my shoulder, fix the laces on my shoes (I may be wearing a dress, but I'm still going to wear trainers, and that's that), and march out to the car.
"I can't believe you're actually thirteen," Maddie tells me as we buckle our seatbelts. "I'm going to be seventeen next month, though, which is amazing." She grins at me. "But, just for a month, we're technically only three years apart." Maddie's seventeenth birthday is on July seventh.
"That's funny, Maddie, you're going to be seventeen on the seventh of the seventh month."
"Oh, why yes, I hadn't thought of it like that." She smiles
We ride the rest of the way to school in thoughtful silence.
When we arrive, I am met with a pleasant surprise. Someone (i.e. Josie MacMillan) has stuck a piece of paper with the words "Happy birthday, Elizabeth!" on it, above a picture of balloons. I look over at locker 62. Josie is there, blushing furiously.
"Josie! There you are! Thanks so much for the note."
She turns around and pulls me into a hug. "Happy birthday!" She says. I smile.
"Thank you, Josie! Now let's go to History. Did you do the homework? I didn't understand question four..."
And we launch into normal conversation.
At the end of the day, Uncle pulls up in his car.
"How was school?" He inquires.
"Enjoyable. I wrote some more of the story I was doing in English class. And many people wished me a happy birthday."
We drive by Maddie's school. She has made a considerable amount of friends since September. Her best friend is called Elisa. Maddie strolls up, arm in arm with her, and gets in the car.
"Uncle, can we do presents when we get home?" Maddie asks. "I want to give Elizabeth mine."
Presents? I was surprised to get presents on Christmas, but on my birthday? The Earl never acknowledged our birthdays. In fact, when it was our birthday, he made us clean twice as much and he didn't let us have supper. He was, after all, a spiteful old git who turned out to be a criminal.
"Why, of course, Maddie. In fact, I have something to give your sister as well." He turns around, his eyes twinkling. Suddenly, he looks surprised. "Oh, it's Queen Elizabeth's coronation today, isn't it? It's going to be on American television at seven o'clock. We can eat supper in front of the telly."
It is! I had forgotten. This made me sad. Queen Elizabeth was supposed to have a present from her sister Margaret Rose, but in fact, this present was in our attic. Not in England. I look at Maddie. We appear to both thinking the same thing.
When we arrive home, I immediately lead Maddie upstairs into our shared bedroom.
"Maddie, since the police won't believe us, we need to take matters into our own hands."
Maddie looks surprised at this.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we need to write to the palace, tell them we have the jewels and also tell them exactly what happened, with Richard and Marissa and everything like that."
"Elizabeth..."
I know Maddie is angling for a counterargument, but nothing comes. She shakes her head slightly and sighs.
"I suppose we should, really. How else are they going to get back to England?"
I do not need to answer this; it is a rhetorical question. I fold my hands in my lap. We sit there for another few minutes before traipsing solemnly downstairs. Clearly Maddie doesn't want to write to the palace either. What if they didn't believe us? What if the jewels were lost on the way there, or were intercepted and stolen?
When we get downstairs, Uncle is sitting on the sofa with a huge grin on his face.
"Why are you so happy, Uncle?" I ask rather bluntly, without any preamble whatsoever. This results in a rather painful nudge in the ribs from Maddie. But Uncle doesn't seem to notice the impoliteness.
"Oh..." His grin widens. "I'm just pleased that my niece is thirteen."
I don't quite believe him. "Are you sure that's all?"
"I just feel rather in a good mood today. Or is that a crime now?" He laughs.
I frown. That surely can't be the only reason he is so jolly.
Maddie breaks the awkward moment by once again demanding that I open my presents.
"After supper, I should think," Uncle says, still grinning.
Maddie looks horrified. "So, after we watch the coronation, and everything?"
I shrug. "I really don't mind," I tell Uncle. "I never used to even get presents anyway. Maddie and I stopped receiving them in 1949."
Maddie continues to look horrified. "But, Uncle Henry..."
He cuts her off. "I'm sure it can wait until after supper," he repeats.
"I really don't mind at all," I say again.
Maddie looks grumpy but says nothing. We sit down on the sofa, but Uncle remains standing.
"Now," Uncle claps his hands together. "What for supper? How about... pork sandwiches, with loads of ketchup?"
Suddenly my sister looks rather surprised. I glance at her, curious.
"Yes, that would be wonderful," I tell Uncle, and he strolls gaily into the kitchen.
"What was that all about?" I ask Maddie.
Maddie looks misty-eyed. "Oh, nothing. It's just... pork sandwiches with ketchup was always... was always Dad's favorite."
I put on a pensive face. "I wonder why Uncle's making that."
"Maybe he likes it too. It probably doesn't matter, anyways."
We sit there, again in thoughtful silence.
"Dinner is served!" Uncle calls later, at 6:15. He brings out a tray of delicious-looking sandwiches. I grin. They really look delicious. He places them down on the coffee table, joining us on the sofa. "We'll put the television on at 6:50, all right?" He hands us all plates. "Serve yourselves. Three sandwiches maximum. And after the coronation, we can do cake and presents. Is that all right, Elizabeth?"
"Cake? You made me a cake?"
He laughs his rumbling laugh. "Of course I made you a cake! A birthday without cake? Preposterous! Let's have our sandwiches." He sits down, but he doesn't look very laid-back. He's sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward.
"Uncle, is everything okay?"
"Okay? I'm not okay. I'm wonderful! I'm feeling really happy!" He rubs his hands together, still leaning forward. I frown. Something was up.
Suddenly, there's a knock on the door.
Uncle practically jumps out of his seat. He dashes over to the door. The blinds are drawn, so I can't see who it is.
"Who is it?" Uncle asks, even though it's perfectly clear that he already knows.
"It's me," says the door in a very slightly familiar voice.
Uncle opens the door. I am confused – "it's me" isn't any clarification as to who the person was. Clearly he had been expecting someone.
There's a middle-aged man standing on the threshold. His hair is a sandy brown, and it's in a shaggy state. He has a scraggly beard of the same color as well. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, and they have a slightly familiar twinkle in them that I can't quite lay a finger on. He looks rather windswept, as though he had just been on a long trip.
Maddie freezes, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. Her eyes widen, and she drops the sandwich. It clatters onto the plate. Her hands are still in their previous position. Then she almost falls off of the sofa, her arms whirling through space, her legs wriggling all around, as if she was being electrocuted. She ricochets over to the man standing grinning in the doorway. Then, to my absolute, utter surprise, she hugs him. I stare at her, also dropping my sandwich.
"Maddie! What are you doing?"
Maddie looks at me, still hugging the strange man. He's hugging her back, equally as tearful and happy.
She speaks in a very soft voice, her speech cracked. I can see a tear leaking out of her eye. Her cheeks are red.
"Elizabeth, don't you understand?"
"No, I don't. Who is this man?"
She speaks again, her voice still soft and cracked. Several tears of happiness are trickling down her face now.
"It's... oh, Elizabeth, it's Dad!"
I feel like a current of electricity is surging through my body. But I ignore it. I shake my head vigorously, staring at them.
"N-no. No. It isn't Dad. It can't be. It isn't Dad. It isn't. Dad went missing in action. He died. It isn't Dad, Maddie, it isn't! It isn't!" I have to convince myself that it isn't Dad, because if I let myself be lured into that trap of believing it's him, and then later find out that it isn't really him, my world would shatter.
Uncle gazes at me. I had forgotten that he was there.
"Elizabeth, it is your father. It's really, truly David Edward Murgatroyd, your father."
I don't know what to think. It couldn't be Dad. After eight whole years of the war being over? He would have come back before then. It was impossible.
I stare into the man's eyes. That twinkle...
Suddenly, I remember. Dad's eyes did twinkle like that.
"Dad," I whisper.
"Lizzy-B," he says back.
I laugh. "It's Elizabeth now, really."
And soon, I'm hugging Dad alongside Maddie, and he squeezes us back.
"Ten years," Dad whispers. "Ten whole years, and you were alive the whole time. And oh, how you've grown. Elizabeth, are you really thirteen today? And Maddie, oh, Maddie, you're almost seventeen. You're both so grown up. I'm so sorry. I gave up too soon. Ever since I saw that that orphanage had been bombed..."
I wriggle out of Dad's strong arms, still holding his hand, and stare up at him.
"How? How did you find us? Where were you for eight years, after the war?"
Maddie looks up at Dad too.
"Yes, Dad, tell us what happened. We need to know."
Dad takes us by the hands and leads us back onto the sofa. Uncle sits next to us, but on the other side of Dad, so that we could be next to him.
"Ooh, you're having pork sandwiches with ketchup? My favorite!"
Maddie and I exchange glances. So Uncle had known. For how long had he known?
"It's rather a long story," Dad says. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all, David," Uncle says.
Dad takes a deep breath, and begins his story.
"Hitherto, I truly thought you both were dead. And I know you did too, after your reaction just now." We nod.
"Before I left for the war, I had an argument with Henry. I don't remember what it was about, but I know that it made us both very cross at each other." Dad and Uncle share a somber look.
"In 1944, I was taken into a prisoner-of-war camp in Germany, called Biebelsheim. I stayed there for a year and half. You probably got a telegram saying I was missing in action, did you not?" Maddie and I nod again, highly interested in what Dad had to say.
"Then the war was over, and we were released. I returned to England in 1946, only to find that our house had been destructed. Bomb, it looked like."
I have to blink back tears. "It was bombed?" I say softly.
"By the looks of it," Dad repeats. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth."
I look at Maddie again. She also looks sad.
"I knew that Mum and Granny were dead. I had a brief conversation with someone who lived nearby. He told me that you two had gone to an orphanage in Notting Hill. But when I showed up – it wasn't there. There was only a pit. It had also been bombed. I thought you were dead as well."
I watch Dad as he tells his tale. I feel sorry for him. He was finally released, only to discover that his entire family was supposedly dead?
Maddie opens her mouth to speak.
"But we evaded the catastrophe, Dad. Brilliant Elizabeth here" (at this, I blush) "saved both of our lives. She wanted to go outside. We were just down the street, and then there was a huge noise. We turned around, and the orphanage and everyone in it were reduced to rubble because of a huge explosive dropped by a fighter plane."
Dad raises his eyebrows. "So, if it weren't for clever Elizabeth, my girls wouldn't be here today?" He smiles.
"No," Maddie affirms.
I cut in. "Well, I wouldn't say that... really, it was just a bit of luck... I was only five at the time..."
"No, Elizabeth, you saved our lives."
I blush again, but don't argue. I suppose I did, in a way.
"All right, where was I? Ah, yes. Right after I found out that the orphanage was bombed, I tried to correspond with my apparent only remaining family member – Henry. So I wrote him a letter, to say sorry again for our argument. But I never got a reply, so I thought you were still cross."
At this, Uncle looks taken aback. "You sent me a letter?" He exclaims. "But I never received any letter!"
Dad seems surprised too. "You didn't? It must have gone missing, then! So you weren't angry anymore?"
"Of course I wasn't cross anymore. In fact, I was wondering myself if you were dead. But I didn't think of it much, because I was busy raising Charlie." Uncle looks at me sadly. "He would have been almost exactly your age, Elizabeth, if he was alive today. He was born in 1940 too." He sighs, clearly remembering his little son.
"I lived in a flat in London alone for years after that. But one day, very recently, only about two months ago, I met with a man in a coffee shop in Reading. I told him my name was David Murgatroyd, and he said he used to know a man named Murgatroyd – Henry Murgatroyd. So I told him that he was my brother, and he told me that your wife and son had perished." He looks at Uncle again. "So I wrote to you again, to share my condolences..."
"...and this time it got through. I was amazed. I thought for sure you were dead by then. It had been so long. So I wrote back, but all there was on the letter was a phone number so you could phone me up and have a proper conversation." The brothers smiled. Uncle kept on, this time addressing Maddie and I. "I told him I had his daughters, and, of course, your father was extraordinarily surprised."
I stare at Maddie. She stares back. So that was the truth about the mysterious phone call I had overheard Uncle having one night. When he said he had something, he was talking about Maddie and I. Not the jewels. And he was talking about coming to see us. That, at least, was cleared up. But Uncle had kept it a surprise for two weeks? The sly man! I grin.
Dad talks again. "So, naturally, I spent about a week packing up all my things and selling the flat, and then it took another week for me to take the boat here. I arrived two hours ago. I've brought this red suitcase" – Dad gestured to a suitcase next to the door that I had not noticed upon his arrival – "which contains a few things, and I shipped the rest of it out separately. It should arrive in two or three days."
Uncle nods. "You can have the spare room," he says. "It's right across the hall from the girls' room."
I gape at Dad. "You're... you're going to live with us, Dad?"
He laughs. "Of course I'm going to live with you! Did you think I was just visiting, or something? What a ridiculous idea! Yes, I'm going to live here with my daughters and my brother. Is that all right?" He adds, grinning boyishly.
I don't say anything but jump back into his arms, holding him tight.
"Don't ever leave me again, Dad," I whisper into his ear.
"I promise, I won't, for as long as I live."