The Light Over London(35)



Liam peered at the two halves of the heart. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

“Her friend Kate told her he looked like Clark Gable.”

“More like Errol Flynn,” he said. “Did you find anything in that tin that looked like it could’ve had a service number on it?”

Cara shoved her long dark hair out of her face and sighed. “No.”

“Well, there are a few things we could try,” Liam said, leaning back in his chair. “We know she was doing her basic training at Leicester at the end of March in 1941. We could try to track her down that way, although a lot of women would’ve passed through there. Then there’s her uniform.” He pointed to a badge on the cap of the woman in the photograph and a white lanyard hanging from her shoulder. “Those should give us some indication of what battalion she was assigned to, but I’m not an expert in twentieth-century military history.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t be asking you to do this. I know the term starts soon and—”

He placed a hand on her forearm. “I’m happy to, Cara. It’ll be fun to research something a little more recent than the reclamation and clearance of monastic lands in the fourteenth century.”

His hand slid away, leaving a prickling heat along her skin.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll photograph the diary so I can read through it too. And I have a colleague who might be able to help us. This is his area of study, so I’m sure he’ll be able to get more from the uniform faster. The Leicester barracks too.”

He stayed long enough to do just that, snapping photos on his iPhone. He chatted easily as he moved methodically, telling her more about his new position and what he was teaching that year. When he was finished, he straightened from the table.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said. “I should go let Rufus out.”

“How is he?”

“More trouble than he’s worth. I’ll tell him you said hello.”

“Bring him next time.” She hesitated, waiting for awkwardness to freeze her. After all, she’d just invited him again, as though it was no big deal, and this time she had no Nicole to blame. But the more she thought about it, the more the invitation felt right.

If Liam read anything into her moment’s hesitation, however, he hid it well, only tilting his head to one side a bit and saying, “I’d like that.”

At the door, she watched him walk down the garden path. Reaching the gate, he turned and called out a goodbye. She smiled—maybe a little too wide—and shut the door as soon as he was on the sidewalk.

Inside, she swept up her phone from the hallway table. Nicole had texted two hours ago.

How did it go?

She stared at the screen for a moment before slipping it back into her bag and going off to change for bed.

3 April 1941

A letter from Paul today and a gift. He sent me a locket with a photograph of him, tall and handsome in his pilot’s garb. I almost cried when I put it on.

And the letter! It’s so sweet I’ll copy it out because I want to be sure that nothing happens to it. A girl from the D barracks next door told me that one of Judith Doughtery’s bunkmates stole all her fiancé’s letters off the shelf above Judith’s bunk and read the racier bits aloud to the other girls. I hope no one in C barracks would be so cruel.

30 March 1941

My darling,

I hope that this letter will arrive before your examination. I have no doubt that you will pass, especially if it is, as you say, mainly a test of maths and intelligence. Haven’t you told me before how easily the subject came to you in school and how you wish that you might’ve studied at university if your parents had agreed?

I, for one, am happy that they didn’t, otherwise I might not have met you. I remember so clearly thinking what a bore that night was, the same sort of dance I’d been to a thousand times, until you walked up on Taylor’s arm. You were the prettiest girl I’d seen in Cornwall, with your curling hair and your red dress, looking so innocent and fresh. I knew I had to dance with you even if I was nowhere near a good enough man for you.

I hope to dance with you again soon, darling. Maybe in London, where the bands seem to play on in the underground nightclubs even as the Luftwaffe bombs the city. I will do everything I can to secure leave when you finally find out where you’re stationed so I can see you, but I will warn you that my group captain is a tough man. He’s not sentimental about things like sweethearts, and he flouts all the RAF’s rules about required leave. All I want is twenty-four more hours with you. Just promise me you won’t volunteer for a posting on the army’s switchboards in Cairo or some other far-flung place. I don’t know that I could stand knowing you were so far away.

I’m sending with this letter a locket. Inside is a photograph of my ugly mug. The other side is blank. I thought you might fill it with a photograph of your parents, or the next time I see you, we’ll take a picture together and you can wear that too. It isn’t much, but it will give me hope knowing that I’m close to your heart always.

Yours ever faithfully,

Paul

Every time the post comes and there’s a letter from him, I feel a little more sure of myself. Paul helped me find the strength to finally break away from home. I know he worries about me, but I really do feel that he’s proud. If only I can pass the examination and find out where I’ll be stationed, we can plan to see one another again.

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