The escape game, p.1
The Escape Game, page 1
Praise for The Escape Game
A fascinating read! In The Escape Game, Marilyn Turk shows the human cost of war, from harrowing conditions in England to the bleak life of an Allied prisoner of war in Germany. The true tidbits about the ingenious methods of secretly sending escape kits to those POWs make the story even more interesting. Enjoy!
–Sarah Sundin, bestselling and Christy Award–winning author of The Sound of Light and Until Leaves Fall in Paris
In The Escape Game, Marilyn Turk draws her readers into the perilous days of World War II, including carefully researched details that bring this fascinating era vibrantly to life. I was intrigued by the brilliant premise of this book, and I kept turning pages to see how it all unfolded for Beryl, Kenneth, and James. Turk infuses danger with hope, fear with faith, and stirs in the sweetness of a long-distance romance. Pour yourself a hot cup of tea and escape into The Escape Game!
–Laurel Blount, Carol Award–winning author of Strength in the Storm
In Turk’s cleverly staged The Escape Game, the reader glimpses just some of the many behind-the-scenes plans to either undermine the enemy or help prisoners escape. A beautiful story of endurance and sacrificial love!
–Ruth Logan Herne, USA Today Bestselling author
The Escape Game is historical romance with characters the reader can’t help but root for, Beryl and Kenneth, two brave souls thrust into war. A job well done by Marilyn Turk.
–Cynthia Hickey, author of Secrets of Misty Hollow series
Filled with spell-binding suspense, strong women, and fascinating history, The Escape Game will take the reader’s imagination to a new level. Marilyn Turk captures tension during World War II England in a page-turning, thought-provoking, well-researched story you won’t be able to put down. Cuddle up with this intriguing novel you’ll not soon forget.
–Susan G Mathis, author of Peyton’s Promise
I love stories set during WWII, I love stories built around true-life events, and I love stories with surprise endings. The Escape Game satisfied me on every level. With relatable characters and enough adventure to keep me turning pages, the story was a true delight from beginning to end.
–Kim Vogel Sawyer, author of Still My Forever
The Escape Game is a well-researched and fascinating look at WWII from the perspective of an American POW and a woman on the British home front. Marilyn Turk has paid special attention to the details that bring this wonderful story to life. Some of it is almost unbelievable but based in truth. The story grabbed me from the beginning and kept me on the edge of my seat all the way to the very satisfying end. Bravo to Marilyn for another wonderful book in a fantastic series.
–Liz Tolsma, New York Times bestselling author of What I Would Tell You and Picture of Hope
The Escape Game by Marilyn Turk is a World War II story based on true events, but it is also a love story guided by faith and courage. The story centers around Beryl Clarke and her brother James, both English, and their American friend Kenneth Bordelon. While Beryl works in England trying to do her part for the war, she worries about her brother who is a pilot for the Royal Air Force. When she learns he and Kenneth are both prisoners in a German war camp, she wants to relay a secret to them that can help them escape. The story is compelling to the end. Impeccably researched and woven with a tight, gripping plot, this is a wonderful book for World War II buffs as well as romance readers everywhere. A good read!
–Lenora Worth, author of The Memory Quilt
If you like World War II stories with a strong dose of romance, you’ll love The Escape Game. From the opening scene to the last turn of the page, Marilyn Turk takes her readers on a wild ride that will leave you breathless.
–Kathleen Y’barbo, Publishers Weekly bestselling author of Dog Days of Summer and The Black Midnight
The Escape Game ©2023 by Marilyn Turk
Print ISBN 978-1-63609-508-0
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63609-509-7
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher. Reproduced text may not be used on the World Wide Web.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover image © Mark Owen / Trevillion Images
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible.
Printed in the United States of America.
DEDICATION
“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
JOHN 8:32 (NIV)
This book is dedicated to all the women and men who
have served their country both at home and on foreign soil.
Thank God for their courage and commitment to honor, protect,
and persevere, so that future generations can enjoy freedom.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
United States
Present Day
Jillian picked up a piece of Bubble Wrap to cover the last of Grandma’s treasures. Lifting the creamy ivory vase with the other hand, she admired the delicate pink roses and gilded edges. The vase was one of her favorites of her grandmother’s possessions. It had come from England, just as Grandma had so many years ago after marrying Grandpa. Knowing how much Jillian loved the vase, Grandma had promised to leave it to her when she died. A pain pinched Jillian’s heart at the thought. Grandma was closer to that day than ever, but Jillian couldn’t bear the thought of life without her. However, Grandma Beryl would soon celebrate her one-hundredth birthday, the milestone of a lifetime. And even though she was in pretty good health for her age and her mind sharp as ever, Mother had insisted she move in with the family.
Jillian carefully wrapped the vase, securing the wrap with a piece of tape, then placed it in a box. She scanned Grandma’s small apartment in the assisted living home, now stripped bare except for the bed and dresser. “I guess that’s it.”
Grandma’s pale blue eyes followed her gaze and nodded. “All my worldly belongings are in those boxes.”
Jillian sighed. “Are you sad to be leaving here, Grandma?”
Her grandmother shook her head, then smiled her sweet smile. With eyes that still twinkled, Grandma said, “Not at all. I’m looking forward to living with my family.”
“We’re looking forward to you being with us too, Grandma. Unfortunately, I’ll be going back to college in a few weeks.”
Grandma nodded. “That’s important. I went to college once.”
“You did? I didn’t know that. Where? When?” Jillian tried to picture a younger version of her grandmother in a college setting.
“Oxford. But I didn’t finish. The war interfered.”
Grandma had never talked much about the war, and her mother said it was a painful subject for her, so Jillian didn’t pursue the matter. As she studied her beloved grandmother’s face, one that still revealed signs of her younger beauty, Jillian’s attention was drawn to a necklace peeking out of her blouse. A charm hung from a strand of tiny pearls. Grandma had worn the necklace for as long as Jillian could remember and thought the race-car charm commemorated a special car her grandmother had owned.
Jillian pointed to her grandmother’s neck. “Grandma, why do you always wear that necklace? Did you have a car like that?”
Grandma’s translucent-skinned hand, its purple veins protruding, went to her neck and grasped the charm.
Smiling, Grandma shook her head. “Not like that one.”
“It looks like an old-timey race car. Were you a racing fan?”
With a smile that made her eyes crinkle at the corners, Grandma said, “Not exactly. But this was a very special car. In fact, I think it’s time I told you about it.”
CHAPTER 1
Leeds, England
May 1941
Air raid sirens wailed as Beryl jumped off her bicycle and rushed into the house. She jerked the blackout curtains closed and turned to look at her mother sitting on the couch. Mum clutched the picture of Dad with both hands, tears trickling down her cheeks. Beryl pus
“Mum! Come quickly! We must get to the shelter!”
Her mother slowly lifted her head, as if in a daze.
Beryl grabbed her by the arm and pulled. “Mum! We have to go now!”
Mum glanced at Beryl, then nodded and slowly rose from the couch, still holding the picture in one hand. Beryl grabbed her mother’s knitting bag while holding on to her mother, then led her through the house toward the back garden where the Anderson shelter was.
As they hurried out of the house, Beryl’s eyes searched the dark sky for planes. How far away were they? What would be hit tonight? The persistent wail of the air raid siren as it moved from a low to a high pitch every few seconds permeated the air as she helped Mum navigate the back steps and wished she could turn on the torch to guide them. They crept carefully around to the entrance of the shelter that was partially sunk into the ground and covered with earth, grass, and a few of Mum’s flowers, alongside some potato and carrot plants her father had planted in their victory garden. Beryl handed her mother’s knitting to her, then removed the steel shield that covered the opening. “Go ahead and step inside, Mum.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t like it in there.” Mum planted her feet.
Beryl didn’t blame her mother for feeling that way. Who liked spending the night in a hole in the ground like a mole? But it was either here at home or one of the shelters under the buildings in town packed with strangers. At least they would be close to home whenever the all-clear sounded.
“Mum. Listen! Hear the siren? We must go inside the shelter before the bombs come.” Beryl scanned overhead again, looking for signs of the enemy in the searchlights that roamed the sky. Mum glanced up as well, as if trying to verify Beryl’s statement, then looked back at Beryl with worry.
“Remember how James and Dad worked so hard to make this shelter for us so we’d be safe?” Beryl listened for the drone of planes and the ack-ack of antiaircraft fire. “Now, be a dear and stoop down so you don’t bump your head.”
When Mum complied, Beryl gently guided her mother inside, holding on to her to keep her from falling as she stepped down into the shelter. Still wearing her air raid warden helmet and uniform, Beryl climbed in behind her mother before replacing the steel shield over the opening.
Dark and damp, the shelter smelled musty. Beryl’s eyes adjusted as she and Mum crouched down to sit facing each other on the narrow cots, their knees touching. She groped for the battery-operated shelter lamp. As a precaution to keep any light from emitting from the shelter, she had placed a piece of black cloth over the door. Of all people, she was well aware of the danger, often reprimanding other people for not covering their windows at night as part of her duty. But they had to have some light in the shelter, plus it helped ease her mother’s fears. She turned on the switch, then set it as far away from the door as possible in the confines of the six-foot-long shelter.
Mum placed Dad’s photo beside her as she lifted the knitting and began clicking her needles, her only pastime since Dad died. At least she had something to busy herself, but Beryl worried about how isolated she’d become from her friends and neighbors.
She hoped all the people in town had made it to a shelter somewhere. Not everyone had a garden with one of these corrugated steel shelters or a Morrison shelter inside, so Beryl’s job was to guide those people to the public shelters. And sadly, some people were too stubborn to go to shelters, taking their chances of being hit by a bomb. Unlike London where she served when the war started, Leeds had no tube tunnels where hundreds of people could gather. But there were some large shelters like the ones built in the town square. She might be in one of those now too, except for the fact that she had to get home to take care of Mum.
Her mother was still in the throes of depression and grief over the loss of Dad, killed only two months ago in the Nazis’ biggest attack on Leeds. How unfair that Dad, a hero in the Great War, would be killed trying to help others despite his old injuries. When he volunteered to be one of the first air raid wardens in town, Beryl had been so proud of him for being so selfless in so many ways. She missed him terribly, missed hearing his jovial laugh and his praise for her, his “baby girl.”
In fact, because of his example, Beryl too had become an air raid warden first in London when they allowed women to serve in that capacity, garnering praise from her father for “doing her duty.” Beryl had always gone to her father for advice and support, and now that he was gone, a piece of her heart was missing as well as a piece of her whole life. The hated “nasties,” as some of her friends called the Germans, had taken so much from her, and she could never forgive them for what they’d done to her family and her country.
The city was still reeling from the devastation of that Friday evening on March 14. Reports estimated forty German planes dropped bombs on Leeds, only a small percentage of the more than eight hundred that bombed the whole country that night. However, the disaster here was no less horrific. First, the planes dropped incendiary bombs, starting fires all over town. While the citizens were still putting out fires the next day, another wave of planes dropped high explosive bombs. The railway station, town hall, post office, museum, and Kirkgate Market were hit. The surrounding area of the town had also been hit, causing major damage to factories.
At least one hundred homes were destroyed, over four thousand damaged. And sixty-five people were killed, including her father.
Thankfully, Leeds had not been hit so badly since then; however, every time the sirens sounded, citizens hid in their shelters wondering when the bombs might fall next. Since that night, more people had taken the air raid warnings seriously, reinforced by the crumbled ruins that remained in town as a constant reminder of the danger. With Dad gone and her brother James off to war as a RAF pilot, Beryl was the only one left to care for Mum, a position she hadn’t been prepared to take.
Every day, Beryl made sure Mum got out of bed, dressed, and ate breakfast before Beryl left for her secretarial job at the Waddingtons, a printing company that specialized in making playing cards and board games. Mum had changed so much since Dad died. Somehow, their roles had been switched as Beryl took over caring for her mum instead of her mum caring for her. The mum Beryl used to have was lively and always ready with a witty remark. But the stranger who’d taken her place was stuck in a melancholy that practically paralyzed her. Once very careful of her appearance, keeping her clothes ironed and hair styled, Mum didn’t show any effort in how she looked now.
The ground shook as another bomb fell somewhere in the area. Beryl jerked her head toward the sound. She should be out there helping the other ARP wardens on duty. How many fires had started? Even though it wasn’t her night for duty, she could do so much more outside than in this hole in the ground. But she couldn’t abandon her mother.
How Beryl’s life had changed. Just two years ago, she and James were at the university in Oxford, looking forward to bright futures. Studying had been her primary responsibility. But having fun was important too, like going to parties and meeting nice guys. One in particular stood out. A smile crossed her face at the memory of Kenneth Bordelon, the handsome American with that unique accent from Louisiana, his home in the States.
James, who shared a class with the American, had introduced them. Kenneth had a way of making her feel giddy inside, just by glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye. But when Germany attacked England, the days of flirting and parties were over as everyone scattered to perform their duties. James left university and joined the Royal Air Force, and Kenneth went back to the States. And now, here she was, working fulltime, taking care of Mum, and being an air raid warden at night. During Beryl’s duty shifts, Mum went to Mrs. Findlay’s town house next door. The woman had been a godsend for helping out with Mum.
If only Beryl could find a way to get her mother back to her former self, independent and involved in the community, spending time with friends. But Mum wasn’t the only one who suffered and grieved. All over the city, people mourned the loss of loved ones either from the bombings or in the military. The pall of death was a constant threat, and the crowded shelters and anticipated sound of sirens unnerved even the most stalwart.
In the shelter, Beryl began talking about her job at Waddingtons—anything to keep Mum from focusing on what was happening outside. She shuddered at the shadow of a spider on the wall of the shelter, trying not to dwell on how many creepy things lived alongside them. She kept up the jabbering about people she worked with, throwing in insignificant details about them, hoping to keep Mum from hearing the distant drone of planes. She wished they had the wireless radio in here with them but was afraid that whatever was on the radio would frighten Mum even more. Music would have been replaced by talk of war, either by one of the British leaders or the foreign voice of the hateful Lord Haw-Haw, the Nazi propaganda broadcaster.
