Page 69 of No Man's Land

May looked at him, then pulled the paper across the table, unfolded it, and started reading. It wasn’t elegant prose, but it was a heartfelt account of Sykes’s death among the corpses at the dressing station. As vivid as Josef could paint it with his inadequate words, far less eloquent than the picture. But that, he knew she’d never publish.

“Joe...” May shook her head, but he could see the tremble in her lips as she gazed at his words. “It’s… very distressing, and it definitely breaches DORA.” She looked up at him. “They’d shut us down.”

“Then we regroup, change the title of the paper, and start again.” Leaning across the desk, he grabbed her hand. “This war is destroying us. Destroying our humanity. It’s turning good men into animals. Worse than animals. If you knew—” He took a breath. “For God’s sake, May, we’ve got to do something before there’s nothing left of us but monsters.”

May stared at him, slowly tugging her hand free. “I don’t know,” she said, raising her voice when Josef started protesting, “butI will consider what you’ve said. There’s a lot at stake here. You know that.”

He did know that, although following the rules had never seemed more pointless. He also knew that this was the best offer he’d get; May had her own priorities, and he’d said his piece. He’d done all that he could.

The clock on the wall above her desk read a quarter past ten. Josef pushed to his feet. “There’s one more thing before I go.”

May leaned back in her chair, looking up at him. “Are you resting, Joe? Taking care of yourself?”

Ignoring the questions, he said, “You remember that envelope I gave you before I went to the front? Have you still got it?”

May stilled. “You mean the one with your will in it? And your Post Office Savings book? Of course I have it, but Joe...” She sat up straight again. “For God’s sake, what do you mean? Why are you asking?”

From his pocket, he produced his notebook. It contained all his notes about the ghoul and The Winconian Society, including names and the address of their Mayfair club. Holding it out to May, he said, “Put this with the rest, and read it if anything happens to me in the next couple of days—”

May shot to her feet. “Joe, what the hell’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you. I just need you to keep this safe.” He set the notebook on her desk. “And if you read it, just…do what you think best. Every word of it is true. I swear.”

Coming around from behind her desk, May glanced at the notebook, then back at him. “Joe, promise me you’re not about to do something stupid.”

He laughed; it sounded too harsh. “You know I could never promise that.”

“I’m serious,” she said. “You’ve not been right since you came back from the war, and I’m worried about you.” She scanned his face, her eyes full of concern. “Please, Joe, we’ve lost too many good men.”

He took both her hands in his and tried to be as honest as possible. “Look, it’s not like that. I’m just in a spot of bother, that’s all. With luck, it’ll all be fine and dandy.”

“What kind of bother? Let me help you.”

“Keeping this safe is helping me. And if you do read it, believe it. That’s all I ask.”

To his surprise, she threw her arms around him in a swift, hard hug. “Be careful, Joe. I’ll need you after they shut us down for publishing that bloody photo, so make sure you’re here to help, all right?”

He nodded stiffly but refused to make any promises. “You take care of yourself, May. London might not know it, but she needs theClarionnow more than ever.”

Then, settling his cap in place, he turned and walked out of the newsroom. Very possibly, for the last time.

***

Alex was waiting on the museum steps when Josef got back.

Either the cold air, or Lottie’s treatment, had brought the colour back to his cheeks. When he spotted Josef, he lifted his hand in greeting and trotted down the stairs towards him.

Josef’s heart performed a mortifying little somersault at the sight, which he chose to ignore. “You look better,” he said when they were close enough to speak.

“I smell like a dish of potpourri,” Alex grumbled, touching his shoulder to indicate the dressing beneath his coat. “But it seems to be helping. They gave me something for the pain as well.”

“Morphine?” Josef frowned; the last thing he needed was Alex falling asleep on him in the middle of a fight. He studied his eyes, but there was no sign of pupil dilation.

Without breaking eye contact, Alex drew closer, lowering his voice. “Something better, I think. More, um, witchy.”

Helplessly, Josef found himself smiling fondly at his seriousness.Fondly?Ugh. “As long as it’s working, I suppose it don't matter.”

“My feeling exactly.” Alex cast a cautious glance up and down the busy street. “And now I’d better get to work.”

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