Tommy
By the time the German soldier had made it to the house, Dawson was still asleep. Tommy had noticed a hole in the slanted roof, it's circumference no bigger than that of a large finger. From there, he could see the yard outside the kitchen, where the car that Lucille had stolen was messily parked.
"What's happening?" Dawson's los voice echoed loudly from behind him.
"The German is here." Tommy whispered, his eye trailing over the the limited view of the yard that he had been blessed with. He could sense Dawson, coming up behind him.
"How can you tell?" He asked.
Tommy motioned toward the small hall that resided in the slanted wall. Look."
Dawson bent down toward the hole, flickering his eyes about until they landed in the soldier as he climbed into a car, driving off swiftly. They were startled, as footsteps interrupted the silence, getting closer to the hole in the ceiling where they hid.
"Is there more than one?" Dawson whispered, glancing toward Tommy who had already spun around to plant his gaze in the entrance.
"I don't know." He replied warily, , grabbing a metal pole that stood against a pile in the corner of the loft next to him. Holding the metal high above his shoulder, Tommy moved to kneel beside the hole.
"Ah!" A scream rang out as the person lifted the wooden panel up quickly, coming face to face with Tommy and his deadly pole. She threw out her hands, stopping a confused Tommy from becoming any more confused.
"What are you doing? Be quiet." Lucille hissed, moving around the man to sit by the wall, placing her bag down and settling beside Dawson. She reassured, "The soldier has gone out."
Tommy stared after her, his arm still raised. She shot him a look and he placed the metal to the ground, leaving it by the hole which had been covered.
"This is going to be harder than I thought." Lucille said, as she stood up abruptly, her shoulders sagging slightly until she could come out from below the slant of the roof. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips as she looked around.
"It's very dark in here." She stated.
"You think?" Dawson exclaimed.
"Sorry, hormones." He said again, noticing the taken a back look on her face, which quickly turned to bewilderment at his last statement.
"Why don't we test something." She said, grabbing a thick, brown coloured blanket from the pile by her bag.
She removed the block of wood and climbed down the ladders ending with a slight thud as she dropped. Lucille hurried to place the ladders in the wardrobe in her father's room, before coming back and looking up to the boys that peered down at her.
"Cover the hole back up and place the blanket all over it- so it covers the edges." The hole was covered and she could hear the scrambling of feet.
"Now switch all of the lights on." She shouted, still gazing up at the edges of the wooden block, still as seamless as when she first looked at it.
"Have you done it?" She asked and a yes replied down, muffled. "I'm coming up."
The blanket and wood was removed and Lucille looked up. "Can you pull me up?"
The boys nodded. Dawson said, We can try."
She reached her hands up, each being crawled by the large hands above her. Using the landing seat boost her height, she was lifted through the short space quickly, being met with red, huffing faces. One last pull helped her reach the loft, leaving her tumbling forward from the force, landing on soft limbs.
"We're just going to have to work it around his absence. I can imagine him leaving frequently." She said, looking down at the two soldier.
"Do you mind getting up?" Tommy asked and Lucille flushed. She hadn't moved from where she had landed: sitting in his stomach, her legs sprawled across Dawson. She muttered her apologies and slid over to her bag.
"Why can't we make a runner now?" Dawson asked, following her to her bag.
"You're both too weak. And where would you go?" She explained as she covered the entrance once more, this time layering it with an extra blanket once more in paranoia, switching one less lamp off on the way back.
"You need to give it time: for me to get things sorted and for you to heal your bodies. You need to be fighting fit."
"Here are some blankets. It's cold up here." She said, as she pulled more thick material from a second bag.
"Thank you, Lucille." Tommy said. "Why are you doing this for us?"
"I don't want to look back on the war and think I did nothing to help those in need." She replied honestly.
"You remind me of someone." Tommy stated suddenly. It was the truth.
"Who's that?" She said, as she busied herself with tidying the medical equipment that she had left.
"My sister."
"You have a sister, too?" She asked and he nodded.
"Yes. A sister and three brothers." He replied.
"What are they like?"
"We're all alike, really. Mischievous, if anything."
"What are their names?" Lucille was full of questions. Tommy didn't seem like the type of man to talk much, and yet here he was.
"Ada, John, Arthur and Finn." He said, as he thought of them. It made him sad. "What about you?"
"I have my father. And that's it." Lucille said, though to Tommy she seemed content enough.
"What about the husband?" He said, and Lucille smiled at the use of 'the'.
"His name is Adam. Our fathers introduced us, actually." She said, before changing the focus to the other soldier. "What about you Dawson, anyone special?"
"You're joking." She exclaimed as she turned her head to see the blond boy laying a sleep in the blankets once again.
She turned around, moving the focus on once again. "Do you miss them?"
"Everyday." Tommy found himself saying things he had never even allowed himself to think of. The words seemed to run from the tap without hesitation. "I wonder where they are. How they are."
"And you? Do you worry about your husband?" He asked.
Lucille frowned. "This may not be any consolation, but I try not. Worrying is bad luck."
"I haven't gotten a letter in months. Do you write?" He asked again, and she shook her head.
"We don't know where he is."
"Even if we did, I wouldn't know what to write. I don't know him, really. I don't know him at all. He'd be happier with a box of cigarettes rather than my transparent words." She shrugged her shoulders, pausing to pull up a blanket before continuing. "We married a year before the war. I was young and he kept his distance, but so did everyone else."
"That's enough about me. I brought you some food and books." She said, breaking her gaze to grab the bag beside her.
"Food?" Dawson's head lifted from the blanket with a twist as his eyes searched around.
Lucille laughed, shaking her head. "It's like a sixth sense!"
The front door slammed shut, sending a rattling bang through the walls of the house. It was followed by loud, echoing footsteps that founded upon the stairs, slowly but rhythmically.
"The German is back." Lucille whispered as she leaned over to switch another lamp off, leaving just one in the corner, it's light barely spilling to their feet.
She leaned back, resting her head against the wooden panel that ran behind them. Pulling the blanket to her chin, she sighed. "I may be here for a while. We can't risk it."
Both Tommy and Dawson nodded, leaving the food in the basket, afraid that even the slightest of noise would wake the soldier and acknowledge him of their existence. They followed Lucille's actions, and lay back, resting in the darkness. It must have only been around 6 in the evening, but thanks to the lack of windows, it may as well have been midnight.
Lucille lay on her side, facing Tommy. Her face was stressed, her brow knitted in a constant droop from worry. She glanced up feeling eyes on her face, and smiled. Tommy smiled back.
'Cold?' He mouthed to her, and she nodded after a pause. He had noticed her tensed shoulders.
He shuffled quietly around, reaching for the blanket that was under his body. He brought it up gingerly to her shoulders, draping it across her upper body.
She was thankful for the dark- thankful for the blindness it brought to most. Surely she couldn't see her blush. But Tommy was used to the blackness of the tunnels. He was used to picking things apart with his eyes.
He saw her blush, and smiled.