Page 81 of The Unknown Birds

Rook was drawn to her, same as always, eyes dancing brightly like he almost couldn’t believe she’d really come.

He reached out as though by reflex, planning to take her luggage, then realized the awkward proposition considering he already held his own suitcase and cane.

“Lead the way,” Ash suggested, placing her hand on his back so he could navigate her through the close-clung crowd.

They purchased two tickets and found an empty car near the back of the train, and soon they were trundling towards a new adventure.

“Have you seen Captain Davies since the war?” she asked him after exhausting the other topics on her list. (He was in favor of A Comedy of Errors and delighted that a new generation might cherish The Life of the Fields.)

He nodded silently, a long, slow nod as though he began and then got lost somewhere inside. When he finally spoke, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling as though holding back unexpected emotion.

“When I returned to England, I was sent to recover on a neighboring estate. It was… a difficult time. Very difficult.”

Ash rubbed his arm gently. She didn’t want him to remember if it was too painful.

“He came to see me—never did say how he knew I was there—and I was in a bad way. Bad enough I reckon it scared him. He hadn’t fully recovered from his own wounds yet, but he had me transferred to Collingwood Park. Had his housekeeper pouring soup down my throat three times a day. I suppose the estate wasn’t even his yet, way back then.”

“I’m glad he took you in,” Ash said, aching at the thought of it all.

“Took me in and kept me.” Rook nodded. “More than that, he helped me remember how to be me, when I only felt about a quarter whole.”

“I wish I’d known.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to know. To see me like that? I didn’t want him to, but he’s a stubborn soul, and we had wounds enough between us.”

Ashley smiled, remembering their young captain as he was, barely older than either of them, though they called him the Old Man.

“I was sure life as I knew it was over. Whoever heard of a one-legged organist? But he insisted I play his piano for hours and hours on end. Worse drill master than he’d ever been in France, I can tell you, but it reminded me just how healing music can be. Instinctively, I began to use my left foot on all the pedals, and it gave me hope, as no amount of platitudes ever could have. He helped me get through the next surgery, helped me get the prosthetic. Kept me from falling on my face as I learnt to walk again.”

She was relieved to hear Rook hadn’t been friendless and alone throughout the ordeal. What she would have given to have been there for him too.

“He sheltered me from the world for as long as I needed, and then when he knew I was ready, he dragged me back to town and put me in touch with Cooper and Blake. Helped me get my place back at the University of London. They didn’t want to take me because of the leg.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I don’t know what the Old Man threatened them with, but in the end, they relented, so there was nothing for it but to learn it all again with just my left foot as I had the piano. At least it was my left,” he laughed. “I can reach the low notes.”

“You did your music course at the University of London?” Ashley rasped, her lip trembling.

Rook nodded, frowning, obviously concerned what he’d said wrong.

“After nursing—after Runnymede”—After you, she didn’t say—“I could hardly get out of bed.”

“The morbs, Davies called it.”

She nodded. “I was using my own name again, and my brother his. He could’ve gone to university off my service, but he couldn’t bear to stay.”

“The white feathers.”

“The feathers. And me. Somehow he transferred the scholarship to my name. I read literature, poetry, whatever I could do to keep my mind occupied. I never imagined… We might’ve crossed paths, if only fate had intervened.” She frowned so hard it ached but was unable to relax her brow. “Once, in the library, I stumbled across a picture of you—little you—precious, tiny you. A Temple chorister singing with the university choir.”

Rook’s eyes widened.

“That’s why I was drawn to Temple Church on the Night of the Long Knives. I wanted to feel closer to you.” A shiver ran through her whole body. “Were you there at the university’s one hundredth anniversary service? Only I thought I saw a ghost singing in the choir. But it wasn’t a ghost at all, was it?”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was you.”