If anyone likes the show Vikings, check out Brave in the Heart, it's a fave of my own books, I'd be so grateful. Xx
Lucille
When Lucille woke, Tommy was still asleep. Her head lay dangerously close to his, so close that she could feel the tickle of his breath carrying whisks of her hair.
She felt dirty, laying next to a man when her husband was fighting. She told herself there was nothing to it- they had just fallen asleep closely. Adam had never really been a husband to her, anyway, but it still made her stomach sag. She wondered if he would come home. She wondered how she would feel if he did. Would she be happy? What would she do? But most of all, she wondered if she would care if he didn't make it through. But she hid the cruel thought in the back of her mind.
She shuffled slightly, looking up to watch as his eyes fluttered open in surprise. He was disorientated at first, startled by the fact that he had been asleep. He smiled down at her and she laughed lightly through a grin in return.
"That's the first time I've ever seen you sleep." She whispered. "How do you feel?"
"I feel good." He spoke quietly back.
"Good?"
"Yes." He began simply. "All thanks to you."
"All I did was sing." She said, blushing slightly. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
"You have a beautiful voice." He complimented, and she flushed even darker.
"You think?"
"I do." He nodded. Her voice was not like velvet, but it was pure and pretty. He loved it. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life.
"My father says it sounds scratchy." She said, as she glanced across at him again, meeting his sparkling eyes with her own.
"You sound like an angel." He said, and she raised her brows, no longer needing to blush at the compliments. Lucille was surprised by all of the kind comments he had been making. They were new and he hadn't talked to her as much as he did the past few days.
"When I woke up downstairs after you'd helped us, I thought I'd gone to heaven." He said
"Stop trying to flatter me." She said, as she rolled into her back, forcing her gaze away from his face and instead to the ceiling that had begun to rot.
"I'm not." Tommy answered honestly, shaking his head. He lifted himself into his elbows, his chin angling so he could rest his eyes on her turned face.
"I thought I'd died. But I wouldn't have been in heaven."
"It's a good thing you didn't die. I wouldn't have met you- both." She stuttered slightly at the end, her voice escaping wobbling.
"It would have spared you so much." He whispered.
She turned back to him with her brows dipped in worry. Lucille brought a hand to rest on his cheek, turning it so he would look at her.
"Don't day things like that. It's not just yourself that those words hurt." She said, as she trailed her finger across the cut that begun to heal in his cheek. The very cut that she had cleaned in the day that he had mentioned.
"But it's true." He insisted. "You wouldn't be hiding in the loft, fearing have your secret found out by a German officer. You wouldn't have to spare your own food."
"If you think I care about that, Tommy." She paused, searching his face with a frown. "Then you do not know me at all."
Lucille whispered, and Tommy sighed, leaning into the hand that was still placed on his cheek. He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry." He muttered, and Lucille smiled sadly.
"Please don't say things like that." She said, before she pulled her hand away, moving to the lift in the roof, in the corner of the loft.
"The German has gone." She said, as she peered down into the courtyard and to the door next to the kitchen. His thick boots were gone from the door mat and the gravel had been disturbed and messed around by the gate.
"My father too, by the looks of it. Though I don't know how he could have." She added, as she noticed the chickens had been let out, and his coats and shoes and too gone missing.
"Or why for that matter."
Lucille looked over to Dawson's sleeping figure. "Let's wake him up."
She too toed to the corner where he lay, his mouth wide open as he slept. Raising a pillow quietly, Lucille dropped it suddenly letting the soft material wake him up as it hit him. He stirred lightly, before turning over. She let the pillow fall down upon him again, until he woke up.
"Alright. Alright." He said, as she pushed his hands forward, brushing her away. He asked, "What is it?"
"I'm sick of you sleeping all the time." Lucille laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes before rubbing the sleep away from them. "Well if I can't sleep, I need to eat. Mind if I have a pastry?"
"Of course not." She said, as she passed the food basket to the both of them after taking one else for herself.
"Tommy might've mentioned that you need some advice." She hinted and Tommy widened his eyes. "I think I could help."
"What advice?" Dawson asked, glancing between the two in confusion.
"About a special lady." She added, and Tommy shook his head.
"Tommy fucking Shelby!" Dawson exclaimed, as he spun around to look at him with a mad glare and chucked a pillow to his head, which was caught.
"Don't let her soften you soldier!" He shouted, dramatically, and Tommy laughed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lucille exclaimed, her arms folding but the boys shook their heads. "Anyway, stop changing the subject. Who's this lady then?"
"Her name is Ethel Bennet." Dawson said, his anger and enjoyment sobering up rapidly.
"Ethel... what a lovely name." Lucille commented, with a pause as she glanced to the other soldier. "And how old is this Lady Ethel Dawson?"
He muttered something incoherently and Lucille asked him to repeat it. He blushed, before opening his arms and shouting. "Forty five!"
"Shes old enough to be your mother!" Lucille's mouth opened in shock, as she tried to hide a giggle.
"She's not that old." He insisted, but the other two shook their heads.
"My father is forty." Lucille commented.
"Okay- she's old! So? It's the twentieth century!" Dawson yelled.
"I could pick any other century and it's be far better than this one." Tommy said.
"You think?"
"Yes. I do."
"If it were any other century, I'd be dressed head to toe in curtains and not allowed to speak." Lucille countered, her brow raising. "Times may not be good, but they're getting better."
"Anyway, Lady Ethel, what's happening with her?"
"Well, she's married, for starters. But ever since I left for France, she was sending me these pictures of herself undres-" Dawson explained, as he started to pull the picture from his pocket. Lucille threw her hands out, blocking her eyes.
"What makes you think I would ever want to see that!" She screeched, as Dawson scrambled to put the picture back.
"Sorry, wasn't thinking."
"I feel like she might be using you a bit here Dawson." Lucille said quietly, watching as his face fell.
"No, Ethel wouldn't do that."
"Well, she's sneaking around her husband at forty five, I think she's quite willing and capable." Tommy added, earning a glare from Lucille.
"But why?"
"Some old women want a younger boy to remind them of their youth." Lucille said, but immediately cringed as she watched him lean back and frown.
"Aw Dawson, I'm sorry." She said, as she wrapped him in a comforting hug and rubbed his back soothingly.
"It's alright, I'll get over it." He said and she nodded.
"How about I go and boil some water and bring a small basin up and you can try to clean up a bit." She asked and Dawson nodded solemnly. "Might make you feel better."
Lucille stood up carefully, pulling herself from his arms before disappearing from the the loft through the hole. Dawson turned to Tommy immediately.
"What you doing lad?"
"What're you on about?" Tommy asked, as he shook his head.
"Lucille. You're not doing very well. She hugged me, should be you!"
"I'll say it again." He said. "What're you on about?"
Dawson groaned in frustration. "I doesn't matter." He said, patting his back.
Lucille appeared in the entrance, a white, flower painted bowl in her hand, and a soft towel over her shoulder. Tommy shuffled up and took the bowl as she lifted herself into the room.
"There we go!" Dawson shouted after them.
"What?" Lucille asked, and Tommy cast him a glare.
"Nothing." He said, with a chuckle, before digging into the pastry basket once again.