by Dan Walsh
“Coffee or tea. It’s also a pub. And they’ve got good food to boot. I’ve eaten there myself a number of times.”
“Great. Can I leave this here with you?” He set down the big directory. “I plan to get right back to it after lunch.”
“That would be fine. I’ll just set it here on the shelf. It’s not like the book’s in great demand. Before you, no one’s asked to see it for months.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you back here in about thirty minutes or so.”
Jack headed out the front door. As he did, he said a quick prayer, asking God to help him find his brother’s name in that book after lunch. He only had a few more hours before he needed to head back to Middle Wallop.
The fresh air and sunshine instantly began to revive him. It didn’t hurt seeing so many big leafy trees for a change. In just a few minutes, he turned one corner then another and saw the sign for the Cross and Sword. So far, Jack hadn’t been all that impressed with British cuisine, although he was beginning to feel hungry. Mainly, he looked forward to drinking a hot cup of coffee.
He opened the door and was instantly encouraged by the smell. A combination of something pleasant baking in the oven and fresh ground coffee. It made him smile. He walked up just as a waitress set a couple of drinks down at a nearby table. She noticed him and came over. But she didn’t say anything at first. Instead she looked him over quite thoroughly, a strange expression on her face. “Can I help you?” he said.
“Say something else.”
“Excuse me? What would you like me to say?”
“That’s enough,” she said. “You’re a Yank, aren’t you?”
“You mean an American? Yes, but I am wearing a British uniform.”
“But it’s blue, not khaki.”
“Yes. It’s definitely blue. I’m a pilot in the RAF.”
“We ‘ave American pilots in the RAF?”
“A few. Not many.” He wondered what this was all about.
“Then you are definitely not the man I’m looking for.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jack said. “But can I still eat here? More importantly, can I get a cup of coffee?”
“Sorry young man. Don’t mean to trouble you none. Of course, you can. Take a seat anywhere. I’ll bring you a fresh cup and a menu. You take cream?”
“Yes, and a little sugar.”
“Right. ‘ave a seat, and I’ll be right there.”
He did. Picked a table not far away. That was odd, he thought. It sounded like she was looking for someone. She had mentioned khaki. That’s the color army officers wore. He glanced around the room. The pub was about half full, but he did notice he was the only one wearing a military uniform, of any color. Maybe they didn’t get too many officers in here.
They may not get many military officers in here, but he couldn’t help noticing one particular person sitting alone in the back. A beautiful brunette. She appeared to be reading something at the table and didn’t look up. He instantly decided, she was the most attractive woman he had seen here in England since the day he’d gotten off the boat.
He suddenly felt the urge to meet her. Like any young healthy man, Jack was used to noticing attractive girls. But this was different. There seemed to be something special about her. Like this was a young woman he would like to get to know. But Jack wasn’t the kind of guy who casually picked up women. He had only dated a handful of girls over the years. He didn’t have any tried-and-true pickup lines memorized, or any practiced methods of meeting them.
The waitress, as promised, brought Jack a cup of coffee with cream and sugar, and a menu, and set them down before him. “I think everything on this is worth eating, but we are especially known for our pies.”
Jack still wasn’t used to the idea that, in England, the word pies didn’t only refer to dessert food. “Thanks. I’ll look this over.” He picked up the coffee cup and smelled it. “Smells delicious.”
“You Yanks do love your coffee.”
She started to walk away. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Could I ask you a question?”
“Certainly. You want to know if we ‘ave anything on special?”
“No.” How could he say this? “That young lady sitting in the back by herself. I know this might sound strange, but…I’d like to meet her somehow. I mean no disrespect. Has she paid for her lunch yet? Perhaps I could do that.”
The waitress smiled. “I’m not surprised you’d like to meet her. She’s quite a looker. And she may be alone at the moment, but I don’t think she’s alone in general, if you get my meanin’. The reason I asked you all those questions when you walked in was because of ‘er. She’s been waiting for someone, a British army officer, for over thirty minutes now. It appears he’s stood ‘er up. I don’t know if that means she’s available for other suitors or not. I can’t tell if his absence ‘as made ‘er happy or sad. She’s a French girl, by the way. And to answer your question, no, she ‘asn’t paid for her lunch yet. She’s ordered the Ploughman’s Pie, ‘er favorite. It’s right there at the top of the menu on the second page. When she’s through eating, I could mention that it’s already been paid for, and point to you, if you’d like. I can’t promise you anything will come of it, but you seem like a nice young man, and you’ve come all this way to help us fight the Nazis, so I’d be ‘appy to try.”
Jack sighed. So, she wasn’t alone. Why did he think someone who looked like her would be? Anyway, it couldn’t hurt to try. “Thank you, I’d appreciate you doing that. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ll still be grateful. And I think I’d like to try that Ploughman’s Pie, if you don’t mind.”
“Then I’ll bring you out a slice.”
26
For the last ten minutes, Renée had been reading a copy of the London Times left on the table beside her. She’d completely given up on Elliot making an appearance and hadn’t even looked up at the front door when she heard someone come in.
She wasn’t mad. Disappointed, but not mad. How could she be? There was a war on. The Germans might be invading England any minute. She was just reading about this in the paper. The signs were all around, everywhere you looked. England had no wish to follow the same fate as her beloved France. They were doing everything possible to get ready. Elliot played a vital role in that effort.
How could having lunch with her compete with that?
Every article in the first section of the paper talked about some aspect of the impending invasion. She kept looking for articles about what was happening back in France. So far, she hadn’t found any. One talked about the formation of a group of French pilots made up of men who’d escaped at Dunkirk.
She found an editorial that explored different reasons why France had collapsed so quickly and were defeated so easily by the Germans, compared to the last time around when they had fought so valiantly. In the first war, they’d kept on fighting until the allies secured the victory. Four long years. But now…? She stopped reading the article halfway through. It was too discouraging.
Mainly, she was looking for clues about what life was like for her mother and Philippe these days. Nothing in the newspaper satisfied her curiosity. She said a quick prayer for their safety, similar to the one she prayed several times a day.
Reaching for her teacup, she realized it was empty. She looked around for the waitress and saw her taking someone’s order at a table near the front door. Renée decided to keep watching and try to get her attention the moment she looked up.
What?
She saw something that made no sense. The man the waitress was talking to. It was Elliot! What was he doing over there? How long had he been there? Why hadn’t he come in and made any attempt to find her? He wouldn’t have to search long; she was sitting in the same table they had always sat in.
Then she noticed something else that was odd. He was wearing a blue uniform. She had never seen him dressed like that. Was it some kind of disguise? He said most of what he did was top secret. Then she noticed his hair, it was parted on the wrong sid
e. She was sure of it.
The waitress walked away. Instantly, Jack’s eyes drifted toward the beautiful brunette sitting in the back. What? She was looking right at him. He looked down. Normally, if a woman like that looked at him, he would return the gaze, offer his best smile. But the girl wasn’t smiling. Not even close. If anything, she was glaring at him.
He dared to look up again. She was still glaring. He looked away. What was going on? Had the waitress said something about him to her, something she didn’t like? That couldn’t be it. The waitress hadn’t gone over to the girl’s table yet.
Lifting his head slightly, he didn’t look straight at her, just enough to catch her in his peripheral vision. She was still looking at him. He was sure of it. He couldn’t let this go on. He had to find out what was bothering her.
One more time. He looked up again. She was still looking at him, but her expression had changed. Now it was more…confusion. He decided confusion was better than glaring, so this time he didn’t look away. Holding her gaze, he smiled. She didn’t smile back. Not good. Should he look away again? Her look of confusion had become stronger. He continued to smile. Finally, her lips began to move. She was sending him a silent message. What was she saying? He couldn’t make it out.
He mouthed back the word, “What?” And shook his head, trying to say he didn’t understand.
She mouthed the same expression. He thought she said, “What are you doing over there?” But that was crazy. Why would a beautiful girl he’d never met ask such a thing? He must have gotten it wrong. He was just about to get up and go over to her, when she got up and started walking this way.
Elliot was behaving so strangely. Clearly, he had seen her. But he made no attempt to come over to her. What kind of game was he playing? Whatever it was, it was entirely unlike him. If there was one thing she could count on with Elliot, it was his steadiness and calm demeanor. The only spontaneous thing he had ever done in their relationship so far was fail to show up. And that, of course, was always something beyond his control.
If he wouldn’t go to her, she would go to him.
As she reached his table, his smile grew even wider. “Hi,” he said. And he said it like he was happy to see her, but also surprised.
She was annoyed with him but tried not to show it. “What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Well, I’m not sure what you mean. Getting ready to eat lunch? Drinking a cup of coffee?”
“Coffee?” She didn’t recall ever seeing Elliot drink coffee, let alone order it at a restaurant.
“It’s pretty good, actually. If you’d like to have a cup. The waitress told me you were French. I can hear it in your accent. The French drink coffee, right? More so than tea? You always hear people talking about French cafés.”
What was he talking about? Then she realized, his voice was different. His British accent was gone. What was going on here? “What are you talking about, Elliot? You know I prefer coffee. We talked about this on our first date. And why are you talking like this? Why are you wearing that uniform? And your hair, it’s —”
“What did you just call me?”
Jack was stunned. She was talking like they knew each other. And it sounded like she called him Elliot.
“What did I call you?” she repeated. “I called you by your name. Is this some kind of trick you are playing on me? You said I can never ask you about your work, but is this some special assignment? Are you, as they say, incognito? In disguise?”
Jack could not believe what she just said. She was really talking to him like they knew each other well. “Did you call me Elliot? As in, Elliot Turner?”
“Of course, I called you Elliot. But why are you doing this? I don’t understand.”
This was incredible. But there could be no other explanation. She thinks I’m Elliot. She thinks I’m my brother. It was like a miracle. “I’m so sorry, Miss. What is your name?”
“Come now, Elliot. Please stop this. There’s no one in here who will know if you just act like yourself.”
Jack sighed. A wave of emotion arose inside. Somehow, someway, he was sitting here talking to what appeared to be his long-lost brother’s girlfriend, maybe his fiancé. Thank you, God. “Would you mind taking a seat, so we could talk?” His eyes started to well up with tears. He quickly blinked them away.
She sat across from him. The annoyed look disappeared. The confused look returned, which was entirely reasonable. She had every right to be confused. “You still haven’t told me your name.”
27
Renée looked into the man’s eyes. Did she just see tears forming? They were gone now, but Elliot would never display such emotions. The realization suddenly hit her. But how was it possible? “You’re… you’re not Elliot, are you?”
The man shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
There were the tears again. He wiped his eyes with the cloth napkin.
“I’m sorry. This is embarrassing. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional. Well, yes I do.”
“Who are you then?” she asked. He smiled. A different smile than Elliot’s.
“My name is Jack. Jack Turner.” He held out his hand.
She shook it. He squeezed her fingers gently, and his hands were warm. “Did you say Turner?”
“I did.”
“That’s Elliot’s last name.”
“I know. I think that’s why I’m getting overly emotional. I’m normally not this way.”
“You look exactly like him. Now that I’m closer, I can see a few differences. But from across the room, and even as I walked over here, I was completely certain you were Elliot. I wondered why you were dressed that way, and why your hair was parted on the wrong side. And mostly, why you were sitting so far away from me.”
“So you and Elliot are, what? Dating? More than that?”
What were they doing? They had never defined it. “I suppose you could say we are…dating. Although we haven’t done much of that in the last few weeks. He was supposed to be here today, to meet me for lunch. That was almost an hour ago. Then I saw you sitting here, and I couldn’t understand why you didn’t join me.”
He pointed to the table she had come from. “Is that where the two of you normally sit?”
“Yes. We haven’t been here for a few weeks, but the three other times we always sat over there. So you can see why I was confused.”
“Totally.”
“You must be related to Elliot. Are you… brothers?”
Jack sighed. “We are. But we’ve never met.”
“I didn’t know Elliot had any brothers. In fact, I recall him saying he was raised an only child.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Jack said. “That’s how I was raised, as an only child. I’m almost positive he doesn’t even know I exist. I only found out about him two months ago. That’s why I came here, to England…to find him. Meeting you, here, this way…well, let’s just say…that’s why this so emotional for me. I’ve been looking ever since I arrived. I had no idea where he was or any real leads on how to find him. You know what I’ve been doing the last two days? Sitting at the London Library around the corner, going through this very thick directory — page after page, line after line — searching through all the names of the British aristocracy.”
“Looking for Elliot?”
He nodded. “I knew his name isn’t the family name. But I don’t know what that name is. I’ve never met my grandfather before, either. The librarian said they often list the living heirs’ names in the book. I’ve been searching through it for hours. I just came in here to get some coffee to help me wake up, maybe get some lunch. Then I was going to go right back at it, keep searching till I have to head back to my base tonight.”
“Where is that?”
“A few hours from here. It’s called Middle Wallop. But now look…I’ve met you. It’s unbelievable. My search is over. So, can you tell me a little about him? What’s he like?”
This was quite extraordinary. If Elliot hadn’t mi
ssed their lunch again, he’d have come in here himself and met Jack. What a scene that would have been.
“Well,” Jack said, “I can see your hesitating to answer. I understand. I’m a complete stranger. But I assure you, I really am Jack Turner. And Elliot really is my brother.” He reached into his pocket. “Here’s my ID card. See? And here, here’s my passport. See? Jack Turner. And I can prove that we’re brothers. Well, in a way I can. I have a photograph. Well, not here. It’s back at the base. But I have it, taken when he was three years old. It has his name written on the back and the date. That’s what started this whole thing, this picture.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s been sitting inside a frame on my father’s dresser my entire life. I always thought it was a picture of me. But recently I was moving the dresser, and I knocked it over. The glass in the frame broke and, for the first time, I saw what was written on the back.”
Just then, the waitress walked up with Jack’s food. “Now, isn’t this something.” She looked at Jack. “You must really have a way with the ladies, to get ‘er to come all the way over ‘ere and sit with you.” She looked at Renée. “He was asking about you earlier, just after he came in. Wanted to know who you were, ‘ow he could meet you.” She looked back at Jack. “But I’d say, looks like you didn’t need me help. You done all right by yourself.” She leaned closer to Renée’s ear. “I don’t blame you, Dearie, you can’t wait around forever when a man stands you up. Besides, I don’t know what the other bloke looks like, but this one ‘ere, he looks like a movie star. So you two have yourselves a good time. Want me to bring your drink over ‘ere?”
Renée wondered if she would ever stop talking. “Thank you, Ma’am. I think I will sit here a while longer, so yes, I’d appreciate it if you retrieved my drink. But I’m all done with my food.” She looked at Jack’s dish. “That’s the same thing I had.”
“He knows,” the waitress said. “I told you, he’d asked all about you.”