Page 86 of The London Girls
And now, when she could finally collapse and cry, her eyes were dry.
‘What do you want to do?’ Jack asked, coming up beside her.
He opened his arms and she walked gratefully into them, shutting her eyes for a moment and just breathing, trying to comprehend what had happened. But she knew she couldn’t fall apart, not yet, not before she’d followed through on her promise.
‘Can you stay here?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to leave her, but I have to get this bag to someone who can deliver the message.’
‘I can do it,’ Jack said, stroking her hand as he gently held it. ‘You don’t have to go.’
‘No, I need to do it myself. I promised her that I’d do it.’
Jack lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. ‘Then go. I’ll be here waiting.’
She was about to turn when she noticed Olivia’s jacket, discarded on the ground. The nurses had cut it off her the moment they arrived, and she bent to pick it up, surprised to see something fall from the pocket. She collected it and realised it was a letter, folded carefully, perhaps having been tucked into her breast pocket.
Florence opened it, her eyes quickly scanning the words to see whether it was important correspondence that she needed to do something with.
Only, it wasn’t anything official. It was a love letter, and soon Florence’s tears stained the page as she was unable to look away.
Dearest Olivia,
I know I’m going to see you again in only a few short days, but I still couldn’t stop myself from writing to you. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life, and you were the most beautiful bride I could have imagined. If I didn’t have something to fight for before, then I certainly do now.
We have our whole lives ahead of us, but it doesn’t stop me wishing that I could have stayedat home for longer. I told you on our wedding night that a few months mean nothing when we have the rest of our lives to grow old together, but I was lying. I even considered shooting my own leg so that I would have a reason to stay home with you, to hold my beautiful bride in my arms, to make more memories that I could hold close for when I had to leave you, but of course I would never turn my back on my duty. I only wish that in doing so, I didn’t have to walk away from you.
Florence took a deep, shuddering breath as she stopped reading and tucked the letter into her pocket, then she left the hospital behind, forcing her feet to keep moving. It was a private letter that she should never even be holding, let alone reading, the words supposed to be for one woman and one woman only. Olivia had told her about Leo’s final letter, told her that one day she’d share it with her, and now here she was reading it alone while her friend fought for her life.
I’m going to have that memo delivered, Olivia. If you’ve died for this, it won’t be for nothing, I promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AVA
Ava whistled as she worked, a cloth tucked into her overalls as she admired her efforts. She might not be able to ride, but she’d polished all the motorcycles and checked everyone’s fuel, and she was feeling good about doingsomething.It felt good to be capable, to know what she was doing and not have to rely on anyone else to help her, and she had to admit she liked having her own money. It had contributed to her confidence in leaving home, and it also meant she was able to pay Grandma Ivy for her room and board, which meant a lot to her, as well as build up her own little nest egg for after the war. She might never be able to afford fancy dresses and the glittering social life she’d once enjoyed, but she would be able to remain independent, and more importantly stay away from her father’s house.
She glanced up at the clock, and then looked over to where Olivia’s motorcycle should be. It was strange, but she wasn’t worried, not yet. She knew first-hand what a long ride it could be – once it had taken her twelve hours to get there and back – and she’d kept wondering if perhaps Olivia had gone straight to visit her brother instead of returning to base. She’d been so excited about having him home, and the hospital visiting hours were likely rather strict.
A noise made her turn, and when she saw it was George, she left the motorcycle she’d been working on and followed him into his office, receiving a groan in reply.
‘Ava, please,’ he said, before she’d even had time to say anything. ‘This is not something we should even be discussing yet, not until you have clearance from your doctor.’
‘I only wanted to remind you what anexcellentdispatch rider I am,’ she said, smiling her sweetest smile as she moved to stand in front of him. ‘I mean, Olivia is good, don’t get me wrong, but I have the passion, the—’
‘Ava,’ George said.
‘Please hear me out,’ she said, before she realised that he wasn’t looking at her.
George’s face had gone pale, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, and Ava slowly turned to see what he was looking at – what had caused such sadness to bracket his face.
‘Florence?’ she gasped, seeing her friend standing there, her eyes filled with tears. But it was when she held out a blood-splattered satchel, her equally bloodstained hands shaking as she did so, that Ava felt the floor fall from beneath her. ‘Florence!’ she gasped, louder this time, moving forward to hold her.
Florence fell into her arms, and Ava stroked her hair and then her back as she hugged her. But Florence only let herself be held a moment before she straightened, holding the satchel out again.
‘What ...’ Ava started, before she backed away a step, realising what it was. ‘That’s ... that’s ...’ She stared at the blood, not able to get the words out.
‘Olivia’s,’ Florence whispered.
‘Why ... why do you have this,’ Ava whispered. ‘What—’
