In 1940, Alice Lamb Gemma Arterton sits at her typewriter in a windswept cottage by the Kent coast, a solitary writer whose hard exterior has earned her a reputation among the village as distant or temperamental. She Endures the taunts of local children who treat her as a witch for living on the outskirts and steering clear of the world. Her days unfold in careful ritual, her focus fixed on research into mythology and folklore as the war drags on around her.
As the conflict intensifies, Alice is unexpectedly asked to care for a young evacuee, Frank Lucas Bond, who has been uprooted from London. She initially refuses the arrangement, fearing it will derail her work, but she eventually concedes, hoping the arrangement will be brief and manageable. The arrangement begins under a cloud of reluctance, yet Frank’s curiosity about her scholarly life gradually breaks through her reserve.
In the background of her memories, she recalls Vera Gugu Mbatha-Raw, a fellow university student who dreamed of becoming a novelist and with whom she fell in love. Vera’s choice to end the relationship isn’t driven by taboo or stigma but by a different longing: Vera yearns to be a mother, a dream that cannot be fulfilled within their partnership. The ache of that broken bond lingers in Alice as she opens herself to the new responsibility in her care.
As Frank grows to trust and engage with her, he takes an eager interest in her mythic explanations. Alice teaches him about Fata Morgana and the idea of the Summerland—the suggestion of an afterlife that surrounds them in the world. The bond between healer and student deepens as they wander through stories and the shapes of memory, and Alice begins to see a possible future for the two of them beyond the week.
The week comes to an end, but Alice’s resolve shifts. She decides to keep Frank, realizing that moving him would force a relocation to another village and school, severing the fragile understanding they have built. The choice marks a turning point in her life, binding them together in a way she scarcely anticipated.
The moment of shared peril arrives just before Frank’s birthday when she learns that his father has died in battle. Struck by her own memory of losing her father, she hesitates to tell him, hoping to shield him from further pain. While preparing a permanent room for him, she discovers photographs of Frank and his parents in his scrapbook, and the truth lands with a jolt: Vera is his mother. The revelation is a blow that rearranges the day’s events, and when Frank learns of his father’s death, he runs away to find his mother in London. Alice follows, and the two reach the city just as a bombing devastates their home. They shelter in an air-raid shelter through a long night, then return to Kent at dawn.
Back in the village, they confront the truth about Vera’s role. Vera is waiting for them, having orchestrated the placement of Frank with Alice in the belief that Alice would care for him if anything happened. The past ties and present loyalties begin to bend toward a different arrangement as Vera reveals her involvement once more.
In the present day, Alice—now deep into completing her manuscript—faces another interruption from Vera. The two women have found a way to coexist, and their shared history has drawn them into a fragile, renewed bond. As they stroll along the beach, an adult Frank returns for a visit and discovers the dedication in Alice’s manuscript, a heartfelt space reserved for him. The dedication confirms what the story has always suggested: a lasting connection between one woman who sheltered a boy, his mother’s choice, and the family they have become.
