“True.” Her sigh seemed to hang overhead, looming up near the clothes airer suspended from the ceiling. “Better get on with that Horlicks you wanted.” She put the kettle on the gas and reached for two mugs off the dresser. “I bet Gloria and Andrew are having something more exciting than Horlicks.”
Chapter Seven
Andrew had the best spot in the house, or rather the cellar: a battered sofa tucked in one corner. He pretty much preempted it, saying she needed to keep her leg propped up, air raid or not. It wasn’t a lie but Gloria stifled a twinge of guilt as she reclined on the dusty cushions and everyone else sat on upturned tea chests, rickety old chairs or the floor.
The light from the low wattage bulbs was no use for reading, as one customer realized as he gave up on his newspaper and folded it to sit on. There was nothing to do but wait. For whatever was or was not going to happen. The group of young officers who’d been propping up the bar now hunkered down to one side and started a game of cards. Seemed Gloria’s best course of action was to lean back against Andrew and hope it was all a false alarm and they’d be upstairs again in no time, and she could finish her soup.
It wasn’t a false alarm.
After the seemingly endless drone of planes overhead and ack ack fire, there was comparative silence. The only immediate sounds were whispered conversations among the hotel staff clustered and the odd exclamation from the card players.
“Think that’s it?” Gloria asked Andrew.
“Could be. Who knows? Best wait for the all clear.”
Seemed it was going to be some wait. No one moved. Nothing happened. Apart from the arrival of an air raid warden checking gas masks.
“You know I could fine you both for not having them,” he said.
“Sorry,” Gloria said, before Andrew could reply. “I know we should have brought them, but I left mine at home. I always keep it with my nurse’s uniform…” Better drop that in. “…and forgot it tonight. My mind was taken up with crutches and how I was getting around.”
“Nurse are you then?”
“I’m the district nurse based in Brytewood.” That should be worth something, darn it. Most people had more to do than make a fuss about gas masks. Although she’d nagged her share of school children for leaving theirs in the playground.
“Well, nurse, you know better, but…let’s hope you don’t need it tonight.”
Didn’t everyone share that hope? Gloria smiled at him. “Let’s hope they’re just flying over.” Although that meant London would be getting it.
“Time will tell. They came over a couple of nights ago. Dropped half a dozen bombs, that was all, but they caused a bit of trouble.” He moved on to chat with the soldiers.
“He didn’t even ask about yours,” Gloria said to Andrew. “Just picked on me,” she added with a little dig in his ribs.
“Good thing too. He wouldn’t fine a nurse but I mightn’t have been let off so lightly.”
“Your work is important.”
“But since I can’t tell anyone what it is, not much of an alibi.”
“Everyone in the village knows, or has guessed. Especially after the trouble back in September.” When she’d raised the alarm. Not exactly easy since she’d been in her fox skin at the time.
His chest moved, as if he held in a laugh. “That’s still an official secret.”
“I won’t tell. I promise.”
“I know,” he whispered it, his lips almost touching her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “Wouldn’t be here with you otherwise, Gloria.”
“We wouldn’t be down here at all if it weren’t for the damn Luftwaffe.”
As if on cue, another flight passed overhead. More this time. Suddenly feeling hideously vulnerable, Gloria clutched Andrew’s arm, now handily wrapped across her chest. His free hand stroked the back of her neck. “Hang on, old girl,” he whispered “This building’s lasted centuries, you don’t think it’s going to crumble for the Jerries, do you?”
She hoped to heaven not. She tamped down the fox stirring inside. Stifled the instinct to run from danger. It was ten days to full moon, she didn’t need to change, couldn’t anyway with her leg in a cast but wanted to. She longed to shuck her human face and run free, away from this hotel and the town for the safety of the woods.
Which weren’t safe in the least. Nowhere was.
Andrew’s lips brushed the back of her neck.
She hoped no one else heard her sigh. They were in a public place after all. She ought to move. Get up and go somewhere else.
But where else did she want to be right now but caught in his arms?
She leaned closer, resting her head against his chest. In the uneasy quiet, she could hear his steady, human heart beat. She was utterly loony. Accepting his invitation was stupid, snuggling up to him like this, insane. But who had time for sanity as another flight of bombers approached?
“Andrew,” she whispered, kissing his wrist. It was his closest bit of skin.
“Scared?” he asked.
“Scared witless,” she replied, the sound of antiaircraft guns all but drowning her words.
“Nah!” His arm held her a little tighter. “You’ll always have your wits about you, Nurse Prewitt. It’s not the first time either of us has sat through this, won’t be the last.”
She was beginning to wonder. Planes droned overhead in waves. “Poor London is going to get it bad.” If it wasn’t already. How long did it take to fly from here to London? It had been a good thirty minutes since the first wave passed overhead. “Maybe we’re going to be lucky tonight.” Unfortunately “lucky” here meant someone else was disastrously unlucky.
“I’m lucky just being here with you,” he said.
She smiled. Couldn’t help it. It shouldn’t feel this fantastic just sitting close to him, feeling his warmth and solid strength. That wasn’t all she was feeling. He was unmistakably aroused. Blush burned her face. She’d done this. It wasn’t exactly her fault, she told herself, but she was having a definite effect on Andrew Barron.
“Doing alright?” he asked quietly.
“If I have to be stuck in a hotel cellar, waiting for bombs to drop, I’m glad I’m here with you.”
His laugh, a peal of sheer delight, got them quite a bit of attention. Just as well the light was so poor they couldn’t see how red her face was. “Sorry,” Andrew said, to the world at large. “I just realized, I think I’m in love.”
Talk about dropping clangors. What was she supposed to say to that?
Not much it seemed.
“Good luck!” someone called and one of the card playing officers let out a wolf whistle.
“You do pick your moment, don’t you, young man?” a woman said.
The general hilarity went right over Gloria’s head. She was too busy worrying what she was going to do about it. If he was falling in love, having the brief fling Alice advocated seemed a downright rotten thing to do. But now was hardly the time to break up with him. Break up? They’d barely started.
Her stomach rumbled, a reminder of their interrupted dinner and the first bomb dropped. As if pulled by a string, everyone looked up to the rafters.
“He’s a long way off,” a male voice said, only to be drowned out by one much closer and louder.
Gloria clung to Andrew. Damn her conflicted