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He awoke to pressure on his knee – something prodding him. He jerked upright in his chair, his eyelids snapping open before drooping the next second. The brief moment had given him a vision of Audrey in her uniform and it filled him with dread. God, one glimpse of her today and his dreams were already invaded by the sight! What days had she said she’d be on patrol? He’d have to avoid her those nights to spare himself from the torture of her in those pants she pressed so perfectly and the way the jacket cinched around her waist and that hat– God! That hat! He’d been to horse races and seen women in hats of every shape, size, and color imaginable and yet it was Audrey in that ridiculous Air Raid Warden hat that drove him mad. It wasn’t fair.
“You’re not going to make this any easier by trying to wait up for me every night, Mr. Farnon.”
His subconscious fabricated Audrey’s voice with surprising accuracy, especially the sharpness. He was poked again and that was when he realized that he wasn’t dreaming at all. He rubbed at his face, recalling how many drinks he’d had – two glasses of sherry – one for himself and the other intended for Audrey – and a whiskey with James. That last one had been the mistake.
Audrey was towering over him imperiously with her arms crossed. Pinched in her fingers was her hat and he found it much less enticing when it wasn’t on her head. Even with the blackout shades and only the far light on, he could still clearly envision the annoyed arch of her brows as she waited for a response.
He steadied himself against the arms of his chair as he adjusted himself. He could feel the drool in his beard and he quickly wiped it away. “Um, no, I wasn’t… waiting up. I just had a drink with James.” It was sort of the truth. He hadn’t had the intention of waiting up for her, it was just that once James had gone up to be with Helen and Jimmy, he’d been thinking about her, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, and wondering when she’d be back while he’d rested his eyes for a minute.
Her lips pouted in that way they did when she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say anything as she took her chair beside his. She put her hat in her lap and he noted the way she shifted, not fully settling into her seat. He noticed the hems of her trousers cut high above her ankles – they were too small. She’d probably have those fixed by the next time he saw her in them, though he reminded himself that had best not happen if he hoped to remain sane. In this moment, he was trying to keep his eyes to the other side of the room without seeming rude. He picked at a loose string in the upholstery as he desperately tried to stop his cheeks from burning. “Well, how was it?”
Audrey shook her head and kneaded her forehead. He noticed her hair was haloed with a faint indent from the hat. “It were just training,” she sighed. “I swear I’d never thought I’d be lectured on how to knock on a door.”
Siegfried hummed. “You’re already an expert at door knocking. It’s one of your many talents.” It was such a silly thing to say, but it was worth it to draw out that smile. Lord, it looked better on her than any uniform. She ducked her head to hide it and he was so desperate to make it last longer that he was tempted to say something even stupider like remarkable or pejorative. He was a starved man, indeed. How many times could he say something sincere before they needed to address his sincerity? It was a line he was testing more and more each day. What had he said earlier today? You look very smart? That whole conversation was a blur of epaulets and near cardiac arrest.
Her gaze slid over to him and he lost his train of thought. “Then you have nothing to be worried about.”
“I’m not.” He said the words like a promise. Audrey could handle any emergency situation better than he could. He was certain she’d make a great vet if she wanted to, but he was equally certain he couldn’t manage anything close to her achievements. “What you’re doing is really admirable. I wish I could be half as useful as you.”
Siegfried hadn’t meant to turn the conversation back to himself, but, of course, Audrey took hold of it. “You think what you’re doing isn’t?” She tipped her head back a little as she asked the question and he knew there was no avoiding answering.
He shrugged and couldn’t meet her eye. “James only came back because he had to.” He spoke lowly, conscious that he was just upstairs. For all of his own big talk of protecting the community, Siegfried knew what it really came down to with the choice of going to war – he could stay here in his slippers with her by his side or relive some of the worst years of his life. He was a coward, it was as simple as that. But he probably didn’t need to tell this to Audrey.
Her hand clasped over his where he rested it, squeezing firmly like she had no intention of ever letting go. “You know that’s not true.” Of course she was right – Siegfried just had an awful talent for lying and wallowing. He thought of James tucked in with Helen just a few flights of stairs above and felt another odd spear of jealousy. It made him want to turn his palm over in Audrey’s grasp and weave their fingers together. James came back for the same reason Siegfried couldn’t go, but the saddest part was he wasn’t sure she loved him as much as he did her.
His hand received a kind pat as she rose with a sigh. He was sad to see her departing, but he supposed his dreary silence was ill company. With her hat still in her grasp, Audrey pointed to the sofa where his clinic coat was draped and braced himself to be reminded of “where it lived.” He made to get up to move it immediately, but her words stilled him, “Don’t forget that you wear a uniform too.” She smiled brightly through her weariness and gave a playful salute. He chuckled as he returned the gesture, pride welling in him at the reminder.
Siegfried shook his head as she left the room. How easily his fears vanished in her hands. One word of kindness from her and he felt on firm ground again. He stared at the coat, wondering how many hours he’d worn it. Every animal he helped mattered. It mattered as much as James flying a plane or Helen raising her son or Audrey making sure everyone’s curtains were closed. The only part to be done was his own and, Lord, he couldn’t do it without her.
Her voice carried from the hall, “And that you do need to hang it up!”