The Light Over London(24)

Cara traced one of the knots in her wooden kitchen table with the tip of her index finger. “There’s a pub just a couple blocks over on Church Road, and a few other places around.”

“How are they? I can’t believe how long it’s been since we were at uni. I’m sure everything’s changed except for the pubs.”

“Pubs never change. I can’t say for the other places. I haven’t been yet.”

“Caraaaa.” Nicole drew out her name in mock disapproval that probably was also half-serious.

“I’ve been busy! I moved my entire life.”

“Oh, please. I know you. You were unpacked within three days of moving. Try another excuse,” said Nicole.

Actually, it had been more like two days, but Cara wasn’t going to give her friend any more ammunition.

“I’m also in a job that makes me feel like an idiot at least three times a day. I’m trying to study as much as I can, but Jock keeps throwing me questions I can’t answer,” Cara said.

The constant pressure of knowing that she should eke out just a little more study time had forced her to set the diary she’d found aside after that first night. But curiosity kept tugging at her. Cara knew wartime romances could burn hot and fast—Gran had met Granddad and been married in the space of four months—and already she could tell the girl in the diary had been swept away by the handsome pilot who’d taken her to the Smugglers’ Cave.

“You only feel like you don’t know everything yet because Jock has been in the antiques business for decades and you’re just starting out,” said Nicole, pulling Cara’s attention back to the present.

“Maybe.” She sighed. “It’s just that he took a chance on me and gave me a job—”

“He gave you a job, not a kidney. And from what you used to tell me, the man sounds like he can be an ass.”

“He’s not an ass,” Cara said, surprising herself at how quickly she rose to Jock’s defense. “He’s particular and very, very good at what he does. He wouldn’t have taken me on if he didn’t think I would be a benefit to the business, but that means he expects me to be able to do my job well now. Not in six months. Hence the studying.”

She could hear Nicole’s phone come off speaker, meaning her friend had arrived at her destination. Their call would be cut short and Cara would have to go back to more tapestry. Even she had to admit that didn’t exactly make for a thrilling Saturday.

“Well, I plan to make sure you take at least a little time off,” said Nicole.

Cara smiled. “I promise I will when my head’s above water.”

“And when will that be exactly?” Nicole didn’t wait for a response. “And no, seeing Iris doesn’t count, as much as I love her.”

“She says hello and wants to know when you’ll be visiting, by the way.”

“Tell her I will as soon as I make you take a day off.”

Cara laughed. “As though you’ve ever been able to make me do anything I didn’t want to. Remember that stupid dare after our last exams?”

“I still say you should’ve skinny-dipped in Barlow Pond. It’s practically tradition,” said Nicole.

“Then you wouldn’t have had anyone to come collect you, Gemma, and Pete from the police station.” She remembered all too well the sheepish grins on her friends’ tipsy faces when she’d shown up to talk the local constables into letting them out of the holding cell without booking them. Simon was supposed to have been with them but had been conspicuously absent, having drunk himself into a stupor a few hours earlier—a sign of things to come, if only she’d known to pay attention.

“Well, I may not be able to boss you around over the phone, but I can do it in person,” said Nicole.

“Right, like you can take the time out of your busy schedule flying all over the Continent,” Cara teased.

The doorbell rang.

“Well, I’m free now.”

“You didn’t . . .”

Nicole laughed. “Why don’t you go answer the door and find out?”

Cara dropped her phone on the table and raced to the door, ripping it open to find her best friend on her doorstep.

“You’re here!” Then, for no good reason at all, Cara burst into tears.

Nicole wrapped her up in a hug, and the familiarity of it dragged another sob from Cara. Nicole had been a constant for so long, grounding her with their shared past while standing by her for the future unknown. Next to Gran, Nicole was the closest thing Cara had left by way of family, and somehow seeing her brought everything to the surface—the divorce, the grief, the move, the anger, the rejuvenation. But mostly it allowed Cara to admit to the loneliness that had crept into her life in Chiswick and hadn’t dissipated in Barlow.

She pulled back, shaking her head as she wiped away tears. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t tell you what a relief it is to see you.”

“Good. I like to be wanted,” said her friend, tossing her long, straightened black hair over her shoulder. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to show me around the cottage I’ve heard so much about and then we’re going down to the pub so I know that at least you have a decent local. Okay?”