April 1940
April 1940April 1940The spring rain should have made Elizabeth smile. It misted and coated every bit of soil in the gardens and the fresh flower boxes. She’d even glimpsed a row of fine crocuses that had bloomed on the Marriage Bureau’s rooftop in the half dozen pots that Marcus had been charged with tending to. Snowdrops had grown lazily on the patches of grass along the pavement outside the bureau’s headquarters, as though spring was desperately trying to show it was here and that the bitter winter had finally ended.
But the appearance of early flowers wasn’t enough to warm Elizabeth’s heart. Today she felt the cold down to her very bones.
She stood on a train station platform with Hetty and Charles, far from everything beautiful and flowering in the world that made her fee
