Hutch didn’t care for it either. It was hard to see why it was proclaimed as a comedy. In another setting, she might have been more open to Farewell to London, but this was just the wrong time. It was all about people reacting to loss in foolish ways. And Wally had done an effective job of building in the sounds, the rain and wind and music, which made it even more depressing. When Hank told her it was over and walked away, leaving her with tears running down her cheeks, the small audience sat frozen. Hutch’s eyes grew damp even though she understood that no permanent arrangement between the pair would have been anything other than a disaster. That in the long term Julia was fortunate. But this wasn’t the kind of show you wanted to watch if you were looking for something to brighten your mood. It might have worked in New York, where you could have headed out to a bar after the performance and laughed at the blunders of the major characters. But the audience on the Eiferman had lost the stars almost two weeks earlier. And now their collective hearts. And it wasn’t just Beth and Hutch who were affected. Wally and Ken both needed a couple of minutes before they trusted their voices. Derek seemed the only one able to shrug it off.

When the lights came on—Wally did everything to present them with the sense of being in a theater—they picked themselves up and headed for the galley. “Time for a snack,” Hutch said.

Wally grabbed a couple of cinnamon buns and sat down. The others were still trying to decide what they wanted. He tasted his coffee and looked directly at her. “Well,” he said, “what did you think?”

“It’s a pretty strong show.”

“I thought so too.” His eyes had locked with hers. She knew what was coming. “When we get home, I’d love to take you to dinner or breakfast or whatever’s happening on the station. Any chance you’d be open to that?”

“Not much point, Wally. I’m committed.”

He smiled. “Well, I guess I had nothing to lose.”

Her reaction had been reflexive, and his disappointment was clear. A sense of guilt began to rise in her. They sat and talked for a short while, not about anything she would remember ten minutes later. But Wally was a decent enough guy. He could carry a conversation, he was reasonable, and his enthusiasm frequently shone in his brown eyes. He wasn’t movie-star handsome, but he looked okay, about average height, probably an inch taller than she was. The problem was that they just didn’t share any interests other than star flight. And of course, they’d both been around long enough to know the dangers of setting up a relationship on a long-term mission. She was impressed that he’d tried his luck anyhow.

•  •  •