Shadows May Fall

Chapter Six

Then, five light but sharp knocks.

Dorothy left her sweater on the bed and moved forward, her heart crawling into her throat with every step until she stopped, arm outstretched and fingertips a mere inch from the handle.

She thought of what her mother would think, what Ian and Charlie would think, and even what her father would think if they knew what was about to happen.

It's too late for that, she told herself, and opened the door.

She nearly slammed it when she faced not Daniel, but Robbie.

A lit cigarette hung from his lips, and he looked oddly surprised to find her standing on the other side of her own door.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

At least he had the decency to look guilty as he regarded her from the top step, and shrugged as he plucked the cigarette from his lips.

"I spoke to Daniel."

"So?" she snapped, and a horrid little voice burrowed in her ear, telling her that one brother or the other, it didn't matter. She forced a smile and pushed back the door. "So, come in if you'd like."

He flicked his ashes onto the stairs, and irritation pricked her. It might not have been the polished staircase in his lovely house, but she didn't care for even the entrance of her home treated like it was no better than the dirty street.

Dorothy stepped aside, and he passed without looking at her.

Taking to bed that poor girl in rags.

She had been right when she fled him in the cafe. He was after more than just talk.

As soon as she closed the door behind him, she went across the room. She took an ashtray from where it had been resting in the cupboard since she and Charlie had moved in and dropped it on the table without a word.

Hanging back at the door, Robbie looked around the flat. His gaze lingered first upon Charlie's cot.

"That's where my younger brother sleeps," she said. "I have the bedroom. Would you like a drink? I have ... there's some of my other brother's rum left."

She asked not because she thought he might want one, but because she desperately longed for a nip for herself to settle her nerves, even if she didn't drink. Had Daniel been the one to arrive, she might have been able to muster up and play the flirt, but with Robbie she was off-kilter.

He looked more uncomfortable than she felt, stuck in place by the door. She realized he probably had not heard her with his bad ear.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked again, louder.

"Sorry? No, I'm fine." He took a long drag on his cigarette and then strode forward. He stubbed out his butt in the ashtray, and his gaze settled over her shoulder. "That's the other brother?"

She lingered near Charlie's cot as Robbie moved past her to the little round table where she kept the few photographs she had. She didn't want him to touch anything, let alone pick up that oval frame and stare at Ian's tiny doppelgänger in his uniform.

"I don't know him," he murmured, and set the photo back down. "It would have been nice if I had at least served in the same battalion with him. Then I'd have something to talk to you about, wouldn't I?"

Dorothy couldn't hold back her scoffing laugh. "You think I want to talk to you about my brother tonight?"

On and on his gaze moved, over second-hand furniture and mismatched crockery, over the mouse trap in the corner of the room and the square wardrobe with the split in the door that kept Charlie's clothes in one-half and Ian's in the other.