at times, and it made life seem much less vexing when viewed through the lens of his good humor. But there were other times when he ought to have been a bit more solemn, and I felt barely escaping a lengthy prison sentence was one of them.
“First, tell me what the major said to you,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Nacy had not returned to the dining room. I hadn’t yet told Nacy the nature of our ordeal. She was sharp and knew that something was amiss, of course, but I supposed she knew I would reveal everything in time. I had never been any good at keeping secrets from Nacy.
“I didn’t see the major,” Uncle Mick said. “They came to my room and told me I was free to go. You can bet I didn’t stand around to ask questions.”
“No,” I agreed. I didn’t know why, but I was a bit disappointed Uncle Mick hadn’t seen Major Ramsey. I supposed I was curious to know what he would have had to say about our adventure. And I also wanted to know if he intended to let us continue helping.
“It came off all right, then?” Uncle Mick asked. “The job, I mean.”
“Not exactly,” I said.
In a low voice, I related to him the details of what had happened. It was strange to me now, as though it had all happened a long time ago. It seemed impossible that it had only been the night before. Even the grim element of having found a body seemed like the dregs of some bad dream that had faded with daylight.
He let out a low whistle when I had finished. “A body, was it? It seems this is a serious business.”
I nodded. “It’s quite serious, I think. The major didn’t confide in me, of course, but I had the impression this was a blow to their plans.”
“What’s the plan now, then?” Uncle Mick asked.
That was the question, wasn’t it? For some reason, I was reluctant to tell Uncle Mick how much I hoped we might continue to be involved. It wasn’t that I thought he would object. After all, he had argued that it was our duty to do our part. Why, then, did I already feel as though there was a tug-of-war between my life a few days ago and the one now?
“Major Ramsey said he would contact me,” I said at last.
He looked at me, his gaze sharp, but when he spoke his tone was light. Focus on what’s before you and wait to see what comes. That was his motto, and he proved it again when he spoke.
“Going to contact you later, is he?” he said. “Then I guess there’s naught to do but wait. Where’s that breakfast? I’m half-starved. Prison works up a man’s appetite.”
* * *
I could tell that Uncle Mick, for all his cheer and good humor, was tired, and I soon left the house so that, indulged with good food and a comfortable bed, he could get some rest.
Nacy was working in our garden, and I went to help her. She’d kept a kitchen garden even before the war, but it was bigger now, every available space given over to rows of vegetables. With the Germans marauding their way across Europe, the supply lines to Britain were tightening. We had all quickly realized that it was necessary to do as much as possible to help ourselves.
I looked at the neat rows, which had produced tomatoes, lettuce, onions, radish, cabbage, turnips, peas, and other fresh produce over the past few months. There was a beauty in it, in the symmetry of the rows and the way the greens glistened with dew. There were birds chirping happily as they pranced and flew around the garden. Even with the noise of cars in the background, it was like a bit of the country in the middle of the city.
“Your uncle hasn’t learned his lesson, I take it,” Nacy said, as she pulled up an encroaching weed.
“What do you mean?” I knelt in one of the rows, the wetness of the dewy vegetation seeping into my skirt, and pulled at the weeds there.
“I know that twinkle in his eye. Whatever he’s gotten into, he plans to get further into it still. It’ll lead to trouble, I’m sure. It usually does.”
“Oh, I don’t…” I began.
She waved a gloved hand, covered in dirt. “You needn’t start with your excuses, Ellie. I know well enough when there’s something going on