Page 133 of Strangers in Time

“We have a man who follows Cedric when he comes here. So when you left with Cedric, he reported it and we followed. They must have had someone else kill Mrs. Macklin, and used the cover of the bombing raid that night to do the deed.”

Oliver took up the story. “And the place I took us to is the prearranged spot when something is amiss.” He glanced at Bryant. “Secret communications do not always necessitate a machine or aseries of esoteric numbers; sometimes it is simply what someonedoeswhile being observed.”

“Quite so,” agreed Bryant.

Oliver continued. “I was to be shot with a blank gun and Cedric would manage to escape.”

“But you was bleedin’,” said Charlie.

“Just a little capsule I keep for such occasions, Charlie. Slipped between my teeth and cracked open, and one has instant blood. And then I simply rubbed it across my shirt. Which means I’m down to just the one clean one now,” he added, ruefully looking at his ruined garment.

Bryant rose. “And now it’s time that I was off.”

He left them there in front of the now-dying fire.

Molly and Charlie came to sit on either side of Oliver as he continued to stare at the winking embers.

Molly said, “When you were ‘shot’ and dying you said ‘sorry’ to us?”

“Yes. I felt truly horrible for having placed you and Charlie in such danger.”

“I’m just glad you’re on our side,” said Molly, as Charlie nodded. “And I’m so very sorry about Imogen.”

He took their hands and squeezed them. “We all have each lost a great deal in this terrible war. But amidst all this destruction and despair, we managed to find one another. As a mathematician I can tell you the odds of that happening are staggeringly long. But here we are, together. As though it were somehow preordained. Now, I want you both to know that so long as I am here, you will always have a home. Never question or doubt that. Promise?”

They both nodded, and said together, “Promise.”

WORDS OF AFEATHER

AT DINNER THE NEXTnight Molly could barely stay awake. Oliver filled their plates with what he had managed in the way of food. Their teacups were up to the brim at least. Charlie looked as tired as Molly. His eyes were half-closed as he forked some potato and then a sliver of parsnip into his mouth.

Oliver sat down and eyed them both. “Rough days, I take it?”

Molly stirred. “Three patients died today, and I would be very much surprised if we didn’t lose a similar number tomorrow.”

“That is awful, Molly,” said Oliver.

“I delivered four more ’a them telegrams,” said Charlie. “‘We deeply regrets to inform you…’” He put his fork down.

“Did the people have someone with them when they got the messages?” asked Molly.

“One didn’t. She went right down to the floor. I hugged her till a neighbor come along. Couldn’t think ’a nothin’ else to do.”

“I’m sure it was of great comfort to her, Charlie,” said Oliver.

Charlie shrugged. Next, he rose and did something he had never done. He left the table without finishing his food. He went to the room he and Molly were sharing and closed the door.

“He’s upset,” said Molly.

“He has a right to be. He’s lost his entire family to this damn war. And look at what you have to confront on a daily basis. It’s not fair. None of it.”

“War doesn’t care about what’s fair. It’s like a virus. It only wants to invade and do harm.” She put her fork down. “I do have a question.”

He settled an anxious gaze on her. “All right.”

“When you told me about Imogen and the decisions that she had made, it caused me to think about what my father had done, the decisionshehad made.”

“And what exactly did you think about?”

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