me that ahead of time,” she said, relaxing somewhat.
“I know, and I’m sorry. Anyway, sending you gave me the chance to see you again,” he said. She was caught off guard by his sudden warmth. She felt herself unexpectedly drawn to him as well. Seeing Julian now, she realized she had missed him in the days since their last meeting, which seemed odd, since in the beginning she really hadn’t liked him at all.
“That was a lucky break at the station, getting out of the queue just before inspection,” he remarked, shifting topics abruptly. “How did you manage it?”
“I told him I had my period,” she admitted uneasily. “Josie taught me that in training. She said Eleanor had told her that the surest way to get a man to leave you alone is to mention the time of the month.”
“Clever,” he said, a touch of admiration in his voice. “I’ve heard quite a bit about Eleanor. She’s meant to be very good at her job.”
“Yes. She recruited Josie, and me as well. She’s very stern. Not all of the girls like her.”
“But you do?”
“I suppose I admire her. She selected me and I want her to think I’ve been up to the task.”
Marie took off her coat and went to hang it on the rack. “You’re bleeding,” Julian said, moving closer.
She looked down and saw the red that had seeped through her blouse. “From where I tore the tape off,” she said.
He walked to the basin and wet a cloth, then came over to her. “It needs to be cleaned. May I?” She nodded, then lifted her shirt slightly and looked away. He washed the wound tenderly, the pads of his fingers warm, almost hot, against her raw skin. “This needs a dressing,” he fretted. “Or it could get infected.” His hand shook worse than she had seen previously as he tended to her.
“Your tremors...”
“Worse when I’m tired,” he explained.
“Rest then.”
“Easier said than done.” He shook his head. “I have to keep going.”
“Rest here,” she said in a firm voice that she hoped would ward off any argument.
Of course it did not. “I have to go. I’m expected at the airfield at daybreak.” She wondered why; there had been no radio transmission announcing a drop. But she didn’t want to tire him with more questions.
“That’s still hours away. Now sleep,” she said sternly. She pointed to the bed.
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” But he sat down in the chair next to it, leaning back and resting his head against the wall. “Just for a bit.”
“You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re dead from exhaustion.” She meant this as a joke, but the words hung hollow between them, too close to the truth. Death, whether by flu or German arrest, was always just steps behind them, pursuing. She offered him her blanket. “I’m afraid this is all I have.”
He waved it away. “I’ve slept in much worse places, I assure you. Rowboats and swamp beds. Once even a sewer. I was in a barn in the countryside last night.”
She turned out the lamp and lay down on the bed. She desperately wanted to go and bathe and scrub off the memory of the day, but she didn’t dare run the water at this hour and risk drawing the attention of the Germans billeted in the house. Neither of them spoke for several seconds. “Don’t you get tired of it?” she asked. “All of the moving around.”
“I don’t mind it much. I don’t really have a place I call home.” There was unmistakable sadness in his voice.
“Will told me about your family,” she said, then hoped he wouldn’t take offense. “I’m so sorry.”
“I met Reba when I was sixteen. I’ve never loved another. I put them on that boat,” he said stiffly. “They had been living in Guernsey. I thought it best to get them out of Europe altogether because of the work I was doing. So I arranged for them to go live with Reba’s sister in Canada. That’s where they were going when the ship went down. I sent them to their deaths.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You were trying to keep them safe.”
“Doesn’t matter in the end, does it? They’re dead—as surely as if they had gone to the camps. I like to imagine they were together at the end, Reba holding the boys. But I’ll never know for sure.” Marie struggled for the right words, but found none. He cleared his throat. “And you? What does your husband think