She hesitated. Her heart wanted to stay, but her brain reminded her that the mission was tomorrow. Reluctantly, she lifted her head from his shoulder.

Ollie rose to his feet and extended his arm.

She clasped his hand and stood. Their fingers entwined, then slipped away.

Inside, they retreated to their separate rooms. Susan crawled into bed, her skin still tingling from his touch.

CHAPTER 17 - EPPING, ENGLAND

CHAPTER 17

EPPING, ENGLAND

The pecking on the window caused Susan to stir. She stretched, got out of bed, and opened the blackout curtains. The glare of the morning sun made her squint. She rubbed her eyes and saw Duchess, balanced like a tightrope walker on the ledge. The pigeon gave another peck, and Susan opened the window.

Duchess fluttered to the bed.

“Good morning,” Susan said.

The bird climbed over the rumpled sheets, like a child scaling a wintry hill in snowshoes.

Susan picked up Duchess and caressed her back. “How did you sleep?”

Duchess cooed.

“Better than I did, I’m afraid.” Susan recalled staying up for most of the night, thinking about her time with Ollie. “He lost his parents. Just like us.”

Duchess blinked her eyes.

Susan sighed. “I barely had the courtesy to ask about his family. I feel horrible.”

Duchess looked toward the window.

Susan peeked outside. She saw Ollie walk across the yard and disappear into a loft. A rapping of tin. Pigeons fluttered into the loft. A slight smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “He’s feeding our pigeons,” she whispered.

Duchess stretched her wings.

Susan placed Duchess on her dresser and straightened the sheets, then got dressed and stood in front of the mirror. She brushed away morning tangles and placed her hair in a bun. She pinched her cheeks to give her face some color, feeling the strange desire for makeup, something she hadn’t worn since leaving the university. She reached for a perfume bottle, unscrewed the top, and applied the few remaining drops to her neck.

Duchess tilted her head.

“I know, we have work to do.”

Susan placed the bottle on the dresser, carried Duchess to the window, and tossed her into the air. The bird darted to a loft. She went downstairs to find her grandfather sipping tea.

“Good morning, Susan,” Bertie said. “I made breakfast.”

Susan glanced at the oatmeal on the stove. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“In that case, I’ll also make lunch.” He pointed to a chair. “Have some oats. Ollie and I have already eaten.”

“Not hungry.”

Bertie slid over his tea. “Then drink.”

Susan took a sip of tea and went to the window. No sign of Ollie, just a smoky haze looming in the west from last night’s bombings.

“Ollie’s parents are passed,” Susan said.

“That was my assumption,” he said.

Susan placed the cup on the table. “Last month.”