“No,” Wells agreed. “Even if the damn thing is just a sword, if they believe it, if the German people believe it’s real…Give zealots something to latch onto and—” He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Simon instinctively reached for Elizabeth and started to stand.
Wells motioned for him to stay where he was and un-holstered his gun. Why did everyone in this blasted city have a gun but him?
“Who is it?” Wells said as he went to the door.
“Room service.”
He cracked the door a few inches before shouldering his gun and opening it the rest of the way. Simon relaxed back into his seat.
Wells took the tray from the young attendant. “Cross? You want to…?” he nodded toward the boy and his outstretched hand.
Cheeky. Simon dug a few coins out of his pocket, tipped the boy and closed the door. Wells set down the tray of sandwiches and took a few handfuls of ice from the ice bucket. He put them into a towel, tied it up like a hobo’s bag and handed it to Elizabeth. “They were out of steak. Rations.”
Wells drank down half a glass of beer and frowned. “I hate English beer.”
Elizabeth pressed the ice-bag to the side of her face and winced. Despite that, she reached for a sandwich that seemed to distract her from the pain.
Wells picked up a sandwich and took a bite. “A lot of good men,” he said with his mouth full, “died letting us know the Germans have the rest of the sword. Now, everybody wants the last shard. Of course, we Americans think it would be safest in our hands.”
Elizabeth nodded, her mouth full. Simon shook his head and she shrugged. “Danger makes me hungry.”
“The only lead any of us have is Evan Eldridge, who can’t or won’t talk.” Wells finished his sandwich. “And then came you.”
“But we don’t have anything to do with it,” Elizabeth said.
“You do now.”
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth watched Simon pace across the floor of their hotel room. “Trust him, he says.”
True to his word, Jack arranged a room down the hall from his. It wasn’t a suite, but it was a definite improvement over their room at the B&B. No more freezing cold trips down the hall in the middle of the night. And, hopefully no Nazis.
“Well, he did save our lives.”
Simon looked at his watch. “We’ll give it another few minutes.”
“And then?” Elizabeth said with more bite than she’d meant. She’d anticipated this conversation and dreaded having it. Her nerves were so frayed around the edges, one tug and she was sure she would unravel.
“Leave. Leave this hotel, leave this city.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Of course we can. Or have you forgotten that we were nearly killed an hour ago?”
She held up the ice bag. That seemed to suitably chasten him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She knew, as ridiculous as it was, he blamed himself for what happened to them. Simon still wore the world, at least her part of it, on his shoulders. She got up from the bed and took his hands in hers. “And what you said—”
“Nothing’s worth your life.”
That wasn’t true and they both knew it. Jack was right. War did change things. Now that they were in the middle of it and not just on the sidelines, Elizabeth felt that truth for the first time and it made her feel slightly queasy. The weight of what was at stake pressed down on her.
“We shouldn’t interfere,” Simon said.
“Maybe that’s why Evan was here. What if something changed and he was here to set it right?”
“Pure conjecture.” Simon waved it away. She’d expected him to and didn’t take it personally, but she was tired and didn’t have the energy to fight. “Right. We’re guessing.”
She let go of Simon’s hands and walked away, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “And we’ll never know for sure unless we talk to Evan.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Elizabeth leaned against the bathroom doorway and wrapped her arms around her chest. “Running around the countryside with the Nazis on our trail doesn’t sound like a picnic. At least here we’ve got an ally.”
“But can we really trust him?” Simon said as he moved in front of her. “All we have is his word?”
“And that’s all he has from us. Not to mention the fact that he’s come to our rescue not once, but twice. I think he’s earned our trust.”
Simon sighed, resigned to it. “For now.”
Elizabeth stepped forward and put her arms around his waist. She was happy to concede the nuance of that point. “For now.”
Simon’s eyes softened and he lightly touched her cheek. “Does it hurt?”
With a swiftness that surprised her, her throat tightened and tears welled in her eyes. She held back the tidal wave of emotion and managed a weak smile. “Only when I’m kissed senseless. But I hear it’s worth it.”
Simon kissed her gently. When he pulled away she could see the worry in his eyes. It was too much. The hold she had on her emotions slipped for only a moment, but that was all it took. The pressure was too great.
Not wanting to fall to pieces in front him, she kept her eyes down and patted his chest. “I’m gonna wash up.”
Elizabeth slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She turned on the cold-water tap and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess; her lipstick smudged like a crazy woman’s and her cheek was bright red. She looked ridiculous. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat, but by the time it came out it was a soft sob. She’d managed not to cry all afternoon, but there was no escaping it now. She blew out a shaky breath and tried to calm her frayed nerves.
She’d never been hit like that before. Unable to defend herself, unable to help Simon. The stakes had never been so high before. The reality of everything that happened that afternoon crashed down on her.
Her brave face had finally cracked and it felt good to let go. The tears came and she didn’t fight them. Was she really strong enough to do this? To fight the Nazis?
She wasn’t Oskar Schindler or Audie Murphy or any of the others who risked their lives a dozen times over. It was a strange and painful realization to now understand so keenly that all of those people weren’t characters in a movie or a book; they were real people, living now, fighting now, and dying now. She’d always prided herself on being someone who did the right thing, who was willing to help. This was her chance. Was she brave enough to do what needed to be done? Her reflection, tear stained and puffy eyed looked back at her. It was one of those rare moments of complete self-honesty. A moment where she saw into herself and knew the answer. She would never be able to look herself in the eyes again if she didn’t at least try.
Simon knocked on the door. “All right in there?”
Elizabeth sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Yes.”
Simon opened the door and peeked in. She splashed cold water on her face and dabbed it dry with a towel.
She could tell from the expression on his face that he could see she’d been crying. It was the last thing she wanted. She knew if he saw her this way, it would fuel his argument to leave. It was a fight she didn’t want to have.
She smiled and tried to pretend that she’d just been washing her face even though they both knew it was a lie. “That felt good.”
Simon didn’t say anything for a moment, then took the damp towel from her hand and laid it on the sink’s edge. “You don’t ever have to hide from me.”
“I know.” It was embarrassing to be so transparent. She felt the tears pricking at her eyes again.
Simon tilted her head up. “Do you?”
Simon’s eyes were filled with understanding, empathy and love. In all her life, she’d never felt completely and utterly accepted before. But in that moment, in that instant looking into Simon’s eyes, she was.
~~~
Elizabeth slept better than she’d expected. Nightmare
s had come and gone, but Simon was constant, warm, and reassuring enough to ease her back into sleep. While she wasn’t exactly feeling peppy, she felt stronger today and was ready to move forward. Wherever that led them. They would face it together. And in clean clothes.
In addition to their freshly laundered clothes and new hat for Simon, another package arrived. Simon kissed her and opened it. “Clean smalls.” He pulled out a pair of panties and dangled them in the air. “And just how does he know your size?”
Elizabeth snatched them out of his hand and picked up a pair of boxers. “I could be asking you the same question.”
They dressed and headed downstairs. There was a note from Jack at the desk. They shouldn’t have any trouble getting in to see Evan and he’d meet them for a late lunch at the hotel. And, just to play it safe, he’d arranged for a car to take them to and from the hospital.
Whatever arrangements he’d made cut right through the red tape that had bound them the day before and they were ushered into a vacant day room to wait for Evan. Restless, Elizabeth explored the room. There wasn’t much to see. Hospital white walls and hospital white floors. She idly played with a shape puzzle, trying to see if she could put a square peg in a round hole when the door opened.
Her puzzle forgotten, Elizabeth looked up and her breath caught in her throat. Eldridge looked very little like the vibrant, warm man she’d seen so many times in his portrait. This man appeared ten years older and sat hunched over in a wheelchair, his silver hair too long and his face drawn and pale.
“You have five minutes,” the nurse said.
“Can’t we have longer?” Elizabeth asked. She hadn’t expected so little time.
“Five minutes.”
The nurse left, but Evan gave no notice of it. He stayed head hung down, hands in his lap.
Elizabeth looked nervously toward Simon who silently urged her on.
“Uncle Evan?”
Nothing.
Slowly, she moved closer, pulling a chair next his. “Uncle Evan, we’re here to take you home. To San Francisco.”
For the first time, he raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, but they weren’t unfocused. “Are you…?”
“Yes, Lillian misses you very much.”
At the mention of her name, his eyes moistened. He reached out and Elizabeth grasped his hand. It was cold and frail.
“Am I dreaming? I can’t tell anymore.”
Elizabeth’s heart ached for him. “No, you’re not dreaming. We’re going to take you back home. Aunt Lillian misses you very much. We all do. Teddy and Max and me.”
His eyes searched her face for any glimmer of something familiar. She’d been so struck by the way the artist had captured his eyes in the painting. They’d been so filled with kindness and understanding. It was disconcerting to see them so lost and afraid now.
“So far away,” he said with a shake of his head.
He was barely lucid. There was one thing left to try.
“How much longer?” Elizabeth asked Simon who, as planned, made a show of taking out the watch to check.
“Just a few more minutes,” he said, showing her, and Evan the watch.
She thought she saw Evan’s eyes flash for a brief moment, but she wasn’t sure. His gaze turned to her and his eyes searched her face for something and then he drifted off. “It’s like swimming in soup. A nice split-pea.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. They weren’t going to get any information out of him. All they could do was reassure him and, God willing, get him out of here.
“Perhaps they’re giving him drugs,” Simon said.
Evan looked up at Simon and smiled dreamily. “Oh, yes, delightful pills. So pretty.” Very subtly, he tugged on Elizabeth’s hand. “Like you, my dear.”
She moved in to accept a kiss on the cheek.
In a voice so quiet she had to strain to hear him, Evan whispered in her ear. “They’re watching us. Forget me, get the Shard and destroy it.”
He leaned back and his gaze danced aimlessly along the ceiling. “Just lovely.”
Elizabeth did her best to remain outwardly calm. “It’s so good to see you, Uncle. We’ve been terribly worried about you.”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” he said in a quiet, dreamy voice.
“Yes, I can see that they’ve taken very good care of you,” Simon said.
“Oh, yes,” Evan said nodding his head slowly. “Very good.”
The door to the hall opened and the nurse stepped in. “Time’s up.”
Elizabeth was about to argue that it had hardly been five minutes, but knew it would do no good. She squeezed Evan’s hand. “We’ll come back tomorrow. You’re going home.” She leaned forward and hugged him.
“Charing Cross,” he whispered. “Iona by Gaspar. Destroy it. Don’t come back here; it’s too dangerous.” He pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. “Tell Lilly that I love her and that I’m sorry.” Then he settled listlessly back into his chair.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Uncle,” Elizabeth said, barely holding back the torrent of emotions raging inside her. “I promise.”
As the nurse wheeled him out of the room, he got the same faraway look he had when they’d brought him in. “Could I have some soup, do you think? A nice split-pea.”
The exchange unnerved Elizabeth and it took her a moment to plaster a smile back on her face. The fervor in his voice was terrifying, and the sadness so haunting.
Dr. Webber, the one in charge of Evan’s care, appeared in the doorway. He leaned into the room. “I’d heard you were here. Everything go all right?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you. Everything went very well.”
~~~
The ride back to the hotel was silent. They’d have to be careful what they said and where they said it, from here on out. The walls everywhere could have ears and eyes.
They started into the hotel, but Elizabeth took Simon by the hand. “How about a walk? Maybe there’s a park close by? I could use some fresh air.”
“St. James isn’t far.”
It wasn’t. After just a few blocks they were at the park’s edge.
“It’s so strange to see it without fences,” Simon said.
The park was beautiful and the fall air was crisp, but not too cold. They found a bench along a path on the edge of the lake. Ducks gathered on the near shore and half a dozen barrage balloons hung in the sky above the city in the distance.
Elizabeth told Simon everything that Evan had said and she wasn’t surprised that he was less than pleased with her promise.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” he said. “Making promises we can’t keep.”
She’d thought long and hard about this on the way back from the hospital. Although, if she were honest with herself, she’d known from the start where she stood. No matter how shaky the ground.
“Why can’t we?”
“Elizabeth—”
“If you could have heard him. Heard the urgency in his voice. Simon, he’s willing to sacrifice himself so that we can get the Shard. Or at least so we can try.”
“Try what? To find a mythical artifact that may or may not be hidden somewhere in England?”
Elizabeth heard the frustration in Simon’s voice and tried not to echo it. “Not just somewhere. Charing Cross Road. And yesterday you seemed pretty sure it wasn’t mythical.”
“That was before we were racing Nazis to find it.” He shook his head.
She nudged closer so she could lower her voice. “Does Iona by Gaspar mean anything to you?”
“No. It could be anything. A painting, a song…”
Elizabeth noticed a young woman sitting under a tree reading. “Or a book.”
Simon frowned in thought. “Charing Cross does have quite a few antiquarian bookshops.”
Any lead was a welcome one and Elizabeth leapt at this one. “Sounds like a good place to start.”
Simon leaned away from her so he could get a good look into her eyes. “Are
you sure you want to do this?”
They’d been down this road. She shook her head with resignation. “Can we really afford not to? What if it is as powerful as they think it is and it falls into the wrong hands?
Simon had no answer for that.
Elizabeth looked off into the distance. “Jack was right. War changes everything.”
Chapter Eleven
Jack was waiting for them in the hotel lobby. He stood as he saw them enter and waved them over. “Was starting to get worried. Everything go okay?”
“Yes,” Simon said. “Sorry, we went for a short walk. Thank you for the driver.”
“You’re welcome. Must have been quite a parade. You picked up a pretty long tail.”
They had a tail? “We did?” Elizabeth said far too loudly as she looked anxiously around.
Jack laughed. “Subtle.”
“Do you mean we were followed?” Simon asked.
“Yup.”
Elizabeth looked around a little more surreptitiously this time. She scanned the faces and the clothes carefully. “Are they watching us right now?”
“You two really are greenhorns, aren’t you? Come on, let’s get some grub and we’ll bring each other up to speed.”
The restaurant at St. Ermin’s was as elegant as the rest of the hotel. Silver service and white table clothes were a strange counterpoint to the grays and privation she knew were just outside.
Jack found them a corner table and the waiter came by with menus. It wasn’t expansive and, honestly, she had no idea what most of it was. Why did the English call every dessert pudding even when it wasn’t? She gave Simon a look of distress that signaled, order for me or I’ll end up with tripe again. She and her stomach were still trying to forget that night.
England, being an island and the last hold out against the Axis powers in Europe, was severely cut off from supplies. America sent what it could, but the basics — eggs, milk, meat, butter — were scarce and heavily rationed. Anyone who cooked at home had to use his or her ration cards at the market and it was tough going. Hotels and restaurants, however, weren’t required to abide by rationing when they sold food, but the government had limited the prices and the menus and the war had pretty much taken care of the rest. The menus weren’t what anyone who frequented five star hotels would expect, but the fare was still a far cry better than what the average citizen of London could manage to cobble together with ration points.
Fragments (Out of Time) Page 8