bad film one might see on a slow week at the cinema.
As I had suspected, working with Major Ramsey was going to be very trying.
CHAPTER SIX
It was raining when I arrived at the address the major had given me, the sky spitting out cold, hard pellets of water.
I had left early for fear of being late, and I now found myself standing outside at half past seven with an umbrella unequal to the slanting rain and wet stockings inside soggy leather shoes.
Looking up at the sign above the door, THE BELL AND HARP, I realized I knew the place, and I was a bit surprised the major would’ve chosen to meet there. It was a pub that catered to the working class. Uncle Mick and the boys had stopped here for a pint often enough. It wasn’t exactly the type of establishment I would’ve thought a toff like Major Ramsey would frequent.
Of course, that was probably the point.
A large drop of rain hit my hat and rolled down the black veil that hung over my face before dropping onto my chest. As I lowered my head to look at it, another hit me squarely on the back of the neck, cold water trickling down between my shoulder blades. It was enough to make me go inside.
Cold, wet, and cross, I closed my umbrella and stepped into the pub, casting my eyes around the dim interior for a place I might sit until the major arrived.
The inside of the pub felt warm and cozy after standing out in the rain. It was fairly typical as far as pub décor went—all wood paneling and furniture, wide-planked wood floors, yellow lights shining out of sooty sconces, and a long bar, a glittering array of bottles displayed behind it—and filled with a typical array of working-class men and women, enjoying a meal and a pint after a long day’s work. I felt soothed by the atmosphere in some way I couldn’t quite name.
Glancing around, I was surprised to see the major already sitting at a table in the corner, not too far from the fire that crackled in the large stone fireplace. He gave me a short nod as I entered, and I made my way across the room toward him.
He rose when I neared the table. It was the first time we had stood side by side, and I realized that, in addition to his well-built frame, he was quite tall. A fine figure of a man, Nacy would have called him. He did indeed have an impressive physique, I admitted to myself grudgingly. As though he needed another reason to feel superior.
“Good evening, Miss McDonnell. I trust you’re well?” He reached out to help me out of my damp coat.
So we were going to play at politeness, were we? Well, I could do that well enough.
“I’m very well, Major. Thank you.” I managed not to sound as insincere as I felt.
He set my dripping coat aside and pulled out my chair as I brushed at a few stray rain spots that dotted my gray dress.
He must have arrived before the rain began, for his uniform was dry and spotless. Despite myself, I felt a bit self-conscious in my rumpled state and three-year-old dress. For all the safes we had emptied over the years, we had never made ourselves rich on it, and fashion had never been very important to me. The things I owned were serviceable and stylish enough for my tastes.
It was only when I had been dressing to meet the major, looking for something to go with the gray felt netted hat, that I realized I had very little in the way of fashionable clothing. Not that it mattered, especially not in wartime, but I never liked to feel at a disadvantage.
I took a seat and the major resumed his.
“What would you like to eat?” he asked.
The question caught me by surprise, and I was prepared to refuse him when I remembered I’d had nothing since the cup of tea and buttered bread I’d had for breakfast that morning.
“I … whatever’s on hand,” I said.
He motioned over the waitress and ordered a pot of tea and steak and kidney pies. I realized suddenly that I was absolutely famished. I had, in fact, eaten very little since breakfast the day before. I was always too on edge to eat before a job, and, after getting arrested and the surprise of Felix’s return, I hadn’t taken time since for a proper meal.