Flying High | Collins (Dunkirk)

10.

        I stepped down the wooden stairs of my apartment building. The familiar hustle and bustle of London was helping me wake up in the early hours of the morning. People filled the streets with news papers and dogs on leashes.

        Cars honked and birds chirped. The sound of the English Channel came from the other side of my apartment building. There is an empty spot on the pier where my boat once rested. That was somewhere at the bottom of the channel now.

         Mr. Dawson was still in his apartment building. I went to his door and rapped my knuckles on the wood. Peter opened the door and smiled "Morning Alice, please come in" he offered and opened the door wide. Today was Saturday. I usually come for tea with his family at this time. Mrs. Dawson came and kissed me on the cheek, handing me a steaming cup.

"Thank you" I took the tea gratefully.

"Anything for you, love" she set the kettle back down on the stove.

         Mr. Dawson appeared in the living room holding the newspaper. There was an article on Peters friend George today and how he was a hero at sea. I smiled sympathetically and read over the paragraph on him.

        My life was now slow. Nobody was around except for the Dawson's. Arthur's gone, my Father is still out there, and Collins had completely disappeared. I don't even have a photograph of him so eventually I could quite possibly forget what he looks like.

That is my fear.

"I'm going to grab the mail" Peter announced, heading to the front door.

       "Oh, me too" I remembered. I carefully set the cup down and followed after him. We went down the stairs together and pushed open the lobby door that led to the busy sidewalk. Our mail slots were on the outside of the apartment.

        He opened his number and I opened mine. It was nothing but bills. I frowned in disappointment, there was nothing interesting for me... or so I thought.

         I don't know how it happened, but something deep inside told me to look down the sidewalk. Woman in skirts and men in suits were as far as the eye could see. Peter closed his slot and looked through his mail. My eyes were focused over his shoulder. I watched as an older man moved out of the way, and a young man appeared wearing an Air Force suit.

        He had ivory skin with perfectly combed blonde hair. His blue eyes sparkled like Caribbean water in the morning sun. A bag was slung over his shoulder. His eyes were on me. The mail slipped from my fingers and floated to the sidewalk. He walked casually down the sidewalk with a smile that was too good for this town.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

        "Collins" I breathed, breaking away from his side. My shoes were kicked off and I was now running towards sidewalk traffic. People gave me glares, but none of that mattered. He was here. I pushed through some rich woman and ran right in to him.

         I jumped on him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He dropped his bag and spun me around, trying his best to keep his balance. I buried my head in to the crook of his neck. He didn't smell like sea water anymore which was a good thing. I laughed, half cried. He rubbed his hand through my hair until I pulled away.

"Good morning" he greeted.

"Wh- What are you doing here?!" I asked, bewildered "How did you find me?"