Page 40 of The Unknown Birds

“Fucking hell,” Blake whispered, and Dusty crossed himself, but Ash just stood there, mouth hanging open, staring at the Virgin and the Lord.

“Come on, Ash,” TomTom said, nudging her to keep walking. “She survived it, and so did we. That’s what matters.”

Ash swallowed and moved forward, glancing back at Rook who still stared up at the statue as if in silent prayer.

Despite the damage to the streets and many of the buildings, shops were open for the British soldiers to spend their hard-earned sou. Rook watched in skeptical amusement as Blake and Dusty bought cheap wine, dropping his own coin on cigarettes and chocolate, while Ash was only interested in bread and cheese. She picked out savory packets of Mimolette and Camembert, along with a nice fresh baguette that made her mouth water.

The seven of them ambled from shop to shop, miming what they wanted and making poor attempts at rudimentary French. But when they passed a group of fancy women in an alley, the goods on offer required no translation, and Cooper jostled Blake’s shoulders in delight.

“Now this is what we came for,” he said, peeling off towards the women.

“You coming?” Blake asked the rest of them, as he trotted after Coop.

“About to be,” Dusty said with a lusty laugh as he elbowed Tom.

“I’m in,” Stew agreed. “My gran says this will all be over by Christmas, so why not?”

Ash began to panic. Would they all spend time with the working girls? And what would they think if Ash stayed behind? Would this be the moment that finally caught her out? Should she go and pay one of the women to sit and have a cup of tea?

TomTom glanced her way, pushing his hair up in front, almost as nervous as she was, and her cheeks burned as she willed him to just act normal.

“Come on now, don’t be shy,” Cooper cajoled them.

Rook shook his head and stepped back. “Had my fill when I was out on leave,” he said. “With those I knew wouldn’t give me the clap.”

“The clap?” Ash repeated.

“They look clean enough,” Cooper said, sliding his gaze over the women once more. Two of them waved. “Ash?” Cooper invited, growing restless to join them.

“I don’t want the clap either,” she said.

TomTom seemed to nod at her, relieved, before turning to follow the others.

“Just you and me, I suppose,” she said uncertainly to Rook, glad he hadn’t joined the boys but not quite sure she understood why.

His lips quirked up in a tiny smile, and he nodded once like he understood far more than she did.

For a moment she teetered on the verge of telling him everything. She was desperate for him to know the truth—know her—but he turned back down the pavement before she could make up her mind to do it.

Anyway, it was dangerous enough with only TomTom knowing. The last letter she’d received from home said there was still no sign of what had become of darling C, which meant he could still be found. It would be a lonely Christmas for her mum without him. Ash wondered how he’d found the restraint to stay away so long.

They stopped to gaze into another window, this one selling embroidered silk postcards. A sample right in front featured a bluebird in flight over a spray of forget-me-not flowers, and Ash couldn’t stop staring at the pretty thing, so out of place in the middle of a war.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, forgetting herself for a moment. Then glancing up at Rook she licked her lips and added, “Don’t you think our mothers would agree?”

Rook shrugged one shoulder and said, “I suppose.”

He waited while Ash went in to buy the colorful card, along with a black and white photographic one for herself, and she couldn’t stop staring at the embroidery as they turned back towards the camp.

“I think she’ll love it. You don’t imagine yours would?” she asked him. “I suppose she was delighted to have you home on leave.”

He shrugged again.

“Do you not get on with your family?” she asked, a tragic thought, when he’d easily become her favorite person in all the world.

Rook cleared his throat. “Like Macduff, I was ripped untimely from my mother’s womb. She didn’t survive the night.”

“Oh, Rook, I’m so sorry,” Ash whispered, feeling like a magpie once again for all her prying chatter and trying to imagine a life without her mum.