"So many broken-hearted people have got to hear the birds sing, and see all the little flowers grow." - Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Lavinia N. Dickinson
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"I really don't want to go, Tom," Juliette complained a little over an hour before they were set to leave for the pub. In true Juliette fashion she had managed to talk herself out of the whole affair almost as soon as she'd let them talk her into it, and now her stomach was in knots. She hadn't been on a night out that wasn't on a mission in nearly two years. The concept was so foreign to her she was almost waiting for Alexis to inform her of who her target was.
"Not this again," Tom groaned, though he shot her a smile to show her it was all good-natured. He knew the real reason she was worrying just from looking at her face - almost every time she went out with men who were drinking, someone ended up dead. "It'll be fine, Jules," he assured her. He sat beside her on the sofa and ruffled her hair affectionately. "I'll be there and so will Will and Martin. Nothing bad will happen."
Juliette sighed, her reluctance still written on her face. In truth, she was still feeling weighed down by the guilt she felt about her previous mission, but she refused to let it show; after what Tom had said that morning Juliette knew she couldn't risk being too sensitive about it - that was two missions on the bounce she was struggling to get over. Plus, he was right; the war was far from over and there was much work still to be done. If she couldn't get over it, she would have to try to forget about it.
"Jules, no one has ever needed a drink more than you do right now," said Martin, and he tipped his half-full glass of whiskey towards her with a smirk. He had begun drinking already, predicting that the pub's prices were going to be outrageously high on account of the yanks' not knowing any better.
Tom had managed to convince Martin to accompany them easily, though Alexis had outright refused. He had made his disapproval obvious to them though he didn't protest - they were technically off duty, after all, which meant he had no right to tell them not to go.
"Look at it this way," Will told Juliette with a grin, "you probably won't have to pay for a single drink the whole night! God, what I'd give to be a girl."
At this, Juliette giggled. "Lets trade places. You can deal with the inevitable onslaught of flirty paratroopers and I'll set my mind to trying to woo some girl or other."
Will stuck his tongue out at her childishly. "I'm not Tom."
"Nope," she replied, "but you're just as predictable."
"Just as desperate, more like," added Martin. She laughed, pointing at him to let him know he was exactly right.
"Oh, look who's talking, Grandad," Tom snarked, even though Martin was in his thirties. He plucked the glass out of Martin's hand and shoved it at Juliette. "Drink it and go and get ready. You're coming and it's gonna be great."
Juliette rolled her eyes but downed the contents of the glass in one go. She handed the glass back to Martin, who scowled at Thomas before going to pour himself another. Tom came over to Juliette and tapped her affectionately on the head. "That's my girl. We're gonna drink those yanks under the table."
"Not you, though, William," Juliette cut in. Will groaned.
Martin rolled his eyes. "Mate, you're the biggest lightweight in the world. One sniff of the barmaid's apron and you've gone horizontal." Juliette laughed loudly at this.
Will went to protest but Juliette silenced him by shooting him a smile. "Don't worry, Will, we'll look after you."
Will rolled his eyes as Juliette, Thomas, and Martin all laughed. Juliette subsequently headed up the stairs to start getting ready.
She didn't let herself think too much on the night ahead of her whilst she showered, instead focusing on the task at hand and wondering on what to wear. A lot of her dresses were either way too formal or way too casual for the occasion, having been given to her for missions, though she had to admit that she wasn't entirely certain of the dress code. She ended up picking an off-the-shoulder black dress that cinched in at the waist nicely before flaring out into a voluminous skirt. She got to work on her makeup immediately after; her mother had always told her that one could never go too far astray with a little black dress and some red lipstick, and that was advice she called on more often than she cared to admit.
After Juliette added the finishing touches to her makeup, capping her mascara and pouting her lips to check for gaps in the lipstick, she stepped back from the bathroom mirror and sighed. She missed her mother dearly, and it was times like these, when she caught herself doing the completely mundane, that she was overcome with the longing for home. At her age she was supposed to be getting ready to go out dancing, her mum debating with her over different dresses and how to do her hair. How many rites of passage had she missed in the years she'd been in the field? Would her mother even recognise her by the end of the war, if she lived that long? Was her mother even alive?
Juliette forced the thoughts away and pulled on a smile to brighten her spirits. She may not be at home with her real family, but she was in her home country, which was more than many could say. And she was surrounded by a group of men who were her brothers in every way except blood. They were family to her now, and they were trying so hard to make her forget about what ailed her. She owed them her brightest smiles and her warmest laughs, so that was what she would give them.
She owed them everything, really.
Juliette quickly got to work on her hair, opting for the typical brush out look, and made sure her curls were adequately styled away from her face before nodding to herself once and exiting the bathroom. She made quick work of putting her dress and shoes on, spraying a few spritzes of perfume before making her way downstairs to the cacophony of groans and calls for her to hurry up.
"Christ, what takes you so long?" Tom complained when she finally rounded the corner from the stairs. She found them all gathered in the living room, including, much to her surprise, Alexis.
"Looking presentable takes time, Thomas, though I wouldn't expect you to know."
Thomas imitated her childishly and gave her the obscene two fingered salute whilst Will handed her a glass of what was probably whiskey, given that that was the only type of alcohol that seemed to be stocked in the house - not that they could complain. They hadn't paid for it.
Will, Tom, Martin, and Juliette all clinked glassed before knocking them back, and when Will came up coughing they all laughed.
"What did we say?" Tom heckled, nudging him lightly. Will only shook his head with a smile which they accepted as his formal surrender.
"You lot be careful," Alexis cut in from his place in the armchair, looking up from the newspaper he'd been reading. "Don't let anything slip, and remember to use fake names at all times. And keep an eye out for Juliette."
"I'll be fine," Juliette replied indignantly.
Alexis rolled his eyes, keeping them on the three men. "Watch out for her."
"Aye, aye, cap'n," Tom said, saluting him before leading them out.
"We'll have her home by eight," Will commented, even though it was already nine. Juliette giggled as she followed him out of the door, Martin right behind her.
The walk to the pub the paratroopers apparently frequented was passed with the group messing around and joking with each other, knocking each other about and cracking jokes. Juliette grinned broadly as she watched Martin and Thomas shove Will between them, pushing him back and forth to each other until he was stumbling around like a drunk. Times like these, where they didn't have to watch their backs for snipers or have a hand on their guns in case of suspicious Nazis, were priceless. To see them laugh and to laugh along with them was such a precious commodity she knew she had made the right decision in allowing them to drag her along with them tonight. Moments like these reminded her of why she kept on going, in spite of it all.
It was the little things, she decided.
When they came upon the pub they could hear the loud music and chatter from the outside, and Juliette was grateful that it was on the opposite side of the village to their house. She pitied the locals who lived nearby, for she was certain they must get little to no sleep on any days the Americans had off.
Tom led the way in, followed closely by Will, and Juliette shared a look with Martin at the cheers Tom's appearance was greeted with. Martin, like Juliette, was somewhat sceptical of the yanks, but he would never pass up an opportunity to get drunk.
Just as Juliette was following Will in, him holding the door for her, she heard Thomas announce, "I brought a couple of guests, I hope you don't mind," and heard rather than saw the Americans' intrigue. She came to stand beside William in the doorway to the rather spacious pub, suddenly feeling rather shy, and felt Martin's presence on her left immediately after.
Juliette laughed lightly at the various exclamations that came from the group of men Tom was heading towards, unsure of what else to do, and was grateful that the sheer volume of them meant that she couldn't make out any of the words that had been shouted at them. She followed behind Will carefully, making sure Martin was still behind her all the while, before they came to a stop in the gap between three tables, one in front of them and two to either side. Someone on her left immediately jumped up and she looked at the man to find George Luz grinning at her.
"It's yours. You can have it," he said, gesturing to the chair.
She flushed and shook her head at him. "No, that's okay. It's yours. Plus, we have to get drinks yet."
"I insist," he told her, holding his hands out as though this was supposed to prove his point. "What are you drinking? I'll get it for ya."
"First round's on me, mate," Martin cut in from just behind her, and she felt somewhat relieved and somewhat sympathetic for George; he was only trying to be nice.
Juliette turned back to George and gave him a smile. "Thank you anyway!"
"Come on, then, lads," Martin called, slapping Will on the shoulder who then got Thomas' attention, "I'm not paying for all of you."
As Juliette followed Martin away she heard George getting teased by his friends for 'striking out' and giggled to herself, though she did feel a bit sorry for him. Still, she hoped it might get him to lay off of the flirting a little bit.
When they got to the bar Juliette smiled at the girl on duty, not at all envious of how difficult her job must be, and told her as much when she began to make up their order.
"Yeah, the yanks are a bit much but the money's quite good. They keep me busy, at the very least," the barmaid replied, and Juliette read that her name was Mary on her name tag. "I love your dress, by the way," Mary commented, beginning work on the second of the three beers that had been ordered.
"Oh, thank you!" Juliette replied almost a little bit too enthusiastically, tugging on the skirt as she looked down at it. "I wasn't quite sure whether it'd be a bit much."
"No, it's stunning! I'd give anything to look that beautiful!"
Juliette blushed bright red. "You're absolutely welcome to borrow it if you want!" It was so nice to talk to a normal girl for once, and in English as well. And to discuss normal things like clothes? She could've cried she was so happy - it was a small shred of her life before the war, the life she missed so sorely.
The girl finished drawing the second beer and looked at her with wide, delighted eyes, "Are you sure?"
"Of course! You look about my size, and with your hair it'd probably look better on you anyway."
The girl, Mary, smiled brightly, obviously touched by the compliment, and began work on the third and final beer. Juliette envied her vibrant red hair, which caught the light so beautifully and fell delicately to her shoulders. Juliette thought that if she wasn't a spy she'd have her hair cut to that length, too, but different countries meant different fashions and it was easier to make long hair look short than it was to make short hair look long. She tried not to be too bitter that she didn't even have a say in her own appearance anymore - after all, her mother had always loved her hair best when it was long.
"Nonsense," Mary replied, beginning to make up Juliette's gin and tonic, "you turned just about every head in here the moment you walked in. I dare say you could wear a potato sack and still be the centre of attention."
Juliette laughed aloud and thanked the girl as she gave them each their drinks, Martin insisting on paying for her regardless of her protests. Juliette knew it was really an attempt to get other men to back off of her, and she appreciated it, but she didn't like other people paying for her. She felt guilty about it every time. Unless they were a Nazi, of course.
Mary moved on to the next patrons and the four spies all turned to face the room again, gathering into a huddle by the bar and clinking their drinks.
"What are we toasting to?" Will asked before they could all drink, and they considered his question for a moment.
"To normality, however short-lived," Tom finally announced. They all smiled, clinking their drinks once more and repeating his words back to him.
As Juliette took a sip of her drink she smiled to herself, taking in the atmosphere of the crowded pub. There were a million other places she could have been at that very moment, but despite it all, she thought that perhaps she wouldn't change a thing and risk missing out on a night in a dingy British bar with three of the people she loved most in the world. There was always a silver lining.