They decided to take in a west end show.  As the performance ended, the  

Luftwaffe began a heavy bombardment of the capital, the first of many.  Crowds were 

ushered hurriedly from the theater, where wardens barked instructions for them to 

take shelter in a nearby tube station.  Thomas and Emma decided instead to make for 

Charing Cross and a train home. 

Bombs were falling as they ran.  Buildings were towers of flame, destruction out of 

control, windows shattered.  Fire wardens and the army were fighting losing battles on 

every street.  The heavy drone from above them was unremitting, as were the booming 

anti-aircraft guns returning fire into the searchlights.  Incredibly, trains were still 

running from Charing Cross, even now.  In fact there was a train to Blackheath waiting 

to leave, and they were hurried aboard without ceremony.   

It was a sobering ride.  London glowed like a red hot coal field around them as the 

train headed slowly south.  It was becoming increasingly obvious as they traveled, that 

the bombing was even more concentrated south of the river,  as though the Germans 

were seeking to target the industrial suburbs.  Thomas suggested that they jump off at 

the next station, which was Lewisham. The ride had become just too perilous. 

Holding hands, they ran for their lives across the square.  The Gaumont was still 

standing, but closed.  There would be no refuge here.  Opposite, on a corner off the 

High Street stood a pub.  The door was open. 

The inside was in darkness, but a voice responded to their panicked calls. 

“Quickly, we’re down in the cellar. “ 

The owner of the voice came into view, holding a candle that sent flickering shadows 

around the room. 

“Follow me, “ he said and so they did, around the bar and down a flight of stone steps 

to a dimly lit cellar, filled with wooden casks and frightened people. 

“Here,” he grinned reassuringly, passing them each a large glass of something. 

“Lets drink to the health of ‘dear Adolf’. ”   

They found a space in one corner and sat down to wait.  The assault continued for 

another half an hour.  With each bomb that landed in their vicinity, another white 

cloud of ash and dust was dislodged from the ceiling.  Emma had the strangest feeling 

that she’d been here before… 

Three evenings later,  Thomas and Emma met at their local as arranged, and made a 

decision to see The Maltese Falcon in Lewisham.  The memory of their escapade of three 

tempestuous nights ago returned, as they left the station and crossed the square 

towards The Gaumont theater. 

As they left the building at the end of the film, they thought to search for the pub, The 

Derwent, that had been their salvation.  Their search took about five minutes, around a 

couple of corners, before they found the street where it used to be.   

Used to be, but now was no longer.  

The entire building had been raised to the ground.