“You went into the water?”
She looked at me as panic crept into her eyes. Her voice was shrill and I had to put my finger to my lips to get her to lower it, so her old man wouldn’t wake up and lower the boom.
“You know, even if there had been enough life vests, we couldn’t have put them on some of them wounded. They couldn’t have endured it. But there weren’t enough, not nearly.”
“No, there must’ve been hundreds of wounded. How could there have been enough?”
“Yes, yes, there couldn’t have been,” she said loudly, as if trying to convince herself. I put my finger to my lips again and listened for footsteps in the hallway.
“It wasn’t our fault,” she said in a lower voice. “But I didn’t know what to do!”
I almost wished for Sir Richard to break down the door.
“There was nowhere to move them. The fire was coming toward us, and the ship was keeling over. I tried dragging one stretcher out of the fire, but we all slid toward the rail when the ship went over-”
“Oh no,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying. “Oh, no.”
“I wanted the ship to sink faster, to put out the fires, but it was so slow. So slow. The men on stretchers couldn’t move. Smoke rolled over them, enveloping them. Then they all went into the water, toppling over one another. It was so cold. I managed to swim away from the ship before she sank. But the wounded… they couldn’t.”
“You did your best,” I whispered. “You did everything you could; it wasn’t your fault.”
She leaned forward and thrust her face against my chest, sobbing from someplace deep inside, choking on her tears as she tried to suppress them. She needed a deep, angry screaming, crying jag, but all she could do was smother her tears on my chest. It lasted a long time, until she was whimpering, worn out by her agony. Then she was quiet. I looked at her, trying to imagine her slipping off that deck into the channel waters, the dead and dying all around her.
I held her. Finally, her breathing became regular. She had fallen asleep, like a baby. I lay awake, like any guy would whose arm was dead because a beautiful woman was lying on it. Very uncomfortable, glad, and confused. I struggled up off the sofa, picking her up, and carried her to the bed. She was half asleep when I pulled the covers over her. I headed back to the couch, ever the gentleman. Besides, I didn’t want another rap in the chest.
“Billy?”
“Yes?”
“Come hold me. Please.”
Her tears came again, softer this time. I held her until she fell asleep again and wondered at the way my life had changed in a day.
“I’ve got to leave, Billy.”
Her whisper, the warmth of her breath in my ear, woke me. My arm was still around her and the first rays of dawn were filtering through the curtains. I smiled, inside and out.
“Father will be up soon. I must get changed and feed the horses,” she said as she untangled herself from the sheets and me and got up.
“Can I help you?”
“You already have. Thank you, Billy. Thank you for listening.”
I shrugged. “Not a problem.”
“Well, I do appreciate it. Especially since you were a gentleman. I’m sorry if it was frustrating.” She smiled and I blushed, as I thought of her waking up snuggled next to me, with me in that… condition.
“I’ll take care of the horses,” Diana said, laughing, “and you take a cold shower. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She blew me a kiss, opened the door, and slipped out quietly.
I was a little embarrassed, but I figured, what the hell. It didn’t seem to bother Diana, so I wouldn’t let it bother me. I got up and stumbled sleepily into the bathroom, thinking about cold showers-they weren’t big on showers in England-she must’ve heard that expression in an American movie. I glanced at the tub in the bathroom and thought about how English guys must have to soak in a cold tub. Ha! That’d sure cure ’em.
I stopped in my tracks. Wait a minute. A cold shower… a cold tub… I reached down and turned on the faucet. Cold water poured from the tap. In a minute it was even colder, coming up from deep underground. Why does a love-crazed guy take a cold shower? What does cold water do? Lessen the flow of blood? Slow things down? Yeah.
Bingo. That was it. It answered everything. Well, everything except the maps, and a little thing called motive. And who. So maybe not everything, but now I knew how and when. The rest would come soon enough. Ideas were buzzing through my head as I washed, packed my kit, and thought about how smart the killer had been, and how maybe that was a clue. I was knotting my field scarf when there was a knock at the door. I sprinted over, hoping it was Diana. I opened the door and saw the captain. He must’ve read my face.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant. May I come in?”
“Sure… of course.” I moved back into the room. He shut the door behind him. Not the best sign.
“I’ll come straight to the point, Lieutenant. I don’t wish to be rude, and I’m sure you’re a decent young man…” He sort of trailed off, looking around the room as if he had forgotten something, then back at me. He didn’t sound like a strict father who knew his daughter had spent the night with me.
“What do you mean, captain?”
“I mean that you should stay away from Diana.” The words came out in a rush, and he took a deep breath. I couldn’t figure out why he was saying this. I struggled to find words to make some sense out of it.
“But… what about Daphne and Kaz?”
“It has nothing to do with them. Neither of them will be dealing with the enemy.”
“Captain, I don’t know if I’ll ever be anything but a staff officer-”
“That does not matter to me,” he said, “if I may be blunt. There is nothing else to say. I’m sure you are a fine officer. Daphne speaks well of you in any case. But I stand by what I say. Diana is very.. ..”
“Impetuous?” I remembered how Daphne had introduced her.
“Impetuous, yes,” he nodded, “and quick to form opinions, sometimes to her own detriment. I know her quite well, and I can tell she sees something in you. I understand she was plying Daphne with questions about you, which is unusual. She thinks most young men are pompous fools, and is not shy about telling them. For you, she shows off her horsemanship. Quite a compliment, actually.”
He stood as if he were still on the bridge commanding his crew. “For now, do not attempt to see my daughter again.” There was sadness in his eyes that didn’t match the sternness of his words. “Breakfast is ready. We will not speak of this again, Lieutenant.” He turned and left.
I finished dressing, stunned by his ultimatum and what it meant. Of course I wanted to see Diana again, as soon as I could get some leave. Why was he against me? I went down to breakfast, and he greeted me like an old chum. More small talk, mostly the weather this time. It was going to be a nice day.
After breakfast, we all stood around outside with our bags stacked near the driveway, saying some awkward good-byes. Diana and Daphne hugged like there was no tomorrow, until Daphne pulled away and ran to the barn to get the Imp. Kaz put his bag in the staff car and left the captain, Diana, and me alone. Great.
“Good luck, Lieutenant,” said Sir Richard formally as he extended his hand. I didn’t have any problem taking it in my left hand and shaking it this time. I wanted to show him I didn’t give up easily.
“Thank you, sir. Thanks for your hospitality. Diana, perhaps you’ll teach me how to ride someday?”
She smiled and was about to speak when her father broke in. “Diana will be back on active service very soon. She’ll not have time for riding lessons, and neither should you, young man, if General Eisenhower is keeping you sufficiently occupied!”
“Father!”
At that moment, Kaz started up the staff car and backed up as Daphne drove up in the Imp.
“I’ll see you in a few days, darling!” she yelled as he waved and drove off. The captain took advantage of the interruption and busied himself with stowing our bags. As he did, Diana gave my hand a gentle, surreptitious squeeze. Before I could say a thing, she let go, kissed Daphne on the cheek, and ran toward the barn. I saw her run the back of her hand across her eyes as she went.