saw that there was something a bit stiff in his movements.
“Are you hurt?” I asked suddenly.
“Nothing too bad,” he said lightly. I could tell from his tone that he didn’t want me to press him further, so I let the matter drop for the moment. For now, I would just enjoy the fact that he was here, alive and well.
He seemed to be feeling the same way, for he looked around the room with a smile. “It hasn’t changed much.”
“No, I suppose not. You haven’t been gone all that long, you know.”
“It just seems like an eternity, I suppose.”
“Yes,” I said solemnly. “I can imagine that it does.”
He settled onto the end of the sofa, loosening his tie. The gesture was so familiar that I felt a little pang of happiness.
“How are Colm and Toby?” he asked.
“Colm’s stationed in Torquay, fixing RAF planes.”
Felix smiled. “All those hours at the Aerodrome came in handy, eh?”
I nodded. From the time he was young, Colm had gone frequently to the Hendon Aerodrome, and not just for the Aerial Derbies and Royal Air Force Displays. He’d spent so much time hanging around that he’d begun to know some of the airplane mechanics. They’d taken a liking to his gregarious and eager-to-learn personality, and by the time he was twelve or thirteen, he’d known the workings of airplanes inside and out. The RAF couldn’t ask for a more knowledgeable man.
“They’re lucky to have him, and he loves the work. He was home on leave last month and looking well,” I said as I took a seat beside Felix. I managed to get the next words out without too much strain in my voice. “We haven’t heard from Toby since Dunkirk.”
He swore. “Have you written…”
“Yes, we’ve done everything we can. They don’t know what happened to him. He … it’s assumed that he was either captured or … killed.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie.” He reached out to squeeze my hand and then held it tight. There was something so solemn in his normally jovial tone that the tears I had done so well at holding back all these months seemed to spring into my eyes without my even noticing them.
“I don’t think he’s dead,” I said, glad that the words came out sounding as though I meant them. Sometimes I was very sure of it, but sometimes I only pretended to be sure in order to convince myself.
“Yes, don’t give up hope. There was a lot of confusion at Dunkirk. It’s very possible that you’ll hear something any day now.”
He sounded as certain as I had, and I appreciated it. Of course, I knew what a good actor Felix had always been, how easily he spun illusions, but, in this moment, it was something we both wanted to believe.
I remembered with a pang of nostalgia the last time the four of us were together. Felix had come to the house one rainy afternoon with Colm and Toby. The boys had shouldered their way in through the door as they always did, as though they were still children and not grown men, trying to get the best of each other when crossing the threshold. They were hatless, both their dark heads wet from the rain, their jackets dripping water onto Nacy’s clean floors. She’d scold them later and they’d charm her and all would be forgiven. And then Felix had come in behind them, closing his umbrella with a flourish and wiping his feet on the rug before he stepped into the room.
He was tall, thin, and elegant, so different from my rugged, sturdy cousins. There was a debonair set to him, a smoothness to his movements and expressions. He carried himself with the perpetual grace of an actor making his entrance onstage.
“Hello, Ellie,” he said, his eyes settling on me. “You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”
“You say that to all the girls, and don’t think I don’t know it,” I retorted.
“But I only mean it when I say it to you,” he answered with a grin.
Colm watched this exchange, his eyes going from one to the other of us, that set look coming over his face that appeared whenever he thought a man was getting fresh with me.
Felix had flirted with me for years, of course, but that never stopped Colm from scowling at him. Colm had been protective of me since I was a wee thing, like a big brother. Toby cared about me deeply, but his was a quieter, less observant way. Colm had enough bluster