Chapter Six
After four hours and twenty minutes of utter, stomach-roiling misery, with the driver leaning maliciously into hairpin curves despite (or perhaps because of) having to stop no fewer than six times so I could lean out of the back of the car and be sick, he came to a stop and announced we’d reached our destination.
“Here we are then,” he said cheerfully, shutting off the engine. “Home, sweet home.”
I glanced outside. It wasn’t clear to me we’d arrived anywhere.
My stomach began churning again, and I couldn’t wait for the driver to come around and let me out, although he was obviously in no rush to do anything. I fumbled with the handle, yanking it back and forth before finally realizing it twisted. When I flung the door outward, I went with it, landing on my knees in the gravel.
“Maddie!” Ellis cried.
“I’m all right,” I said, still grasping the door handle. I looked up, through the strands of hair that had fallen over my face. The clouds shifted to expose the moon, and in its light I saw our destination.
It was a squat, gray building in pebble-and-dash, with heavy black shutters on the windows of both floors. A wooden sign hung over the entrance, creaking in the wind: THE FRASER ARMS
Proprietor A. W. Ross
Licensed to Serve Beer and Spirits
Good Food, Rooms
Est. 1547
My queasiness rose in urgent waves, and while I couldn’t believe there was anything left for me to expel, I hauled myself upright and staggered toward a half barrel of frostbitten pansies by the front door. I crashed into the wall instead, hitting first with my open palms and then my left cheek. I stayed there for a moment, my face flattened against the pebbled surface.
“Maddie? Are you all right?” Ellis asked from somewhere behind me.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You don’t look fine.”
I turned and slid down the wall, my coat and hair scraping against the embedded stones until I was resting on my heels.
Snow collected on my exposed knees. Somewhere in the distance a sheep bleated.
“Maddie?”
“I’m fine,” I said again.
I watched as Ellis and Hank climbed out of the car, regarding them with something akin to loathing.
Ellis took a few steps toward the building and read the sign. He raised his eyebrows and looked back at Hank.
“This is where we’re staying?”
“So it would appear,” said Hank.
“It looks like a pile of rubble,” said Ellis. “Or one of those long communal mud houses. From, you know, Arizona or wherever.”
“What were you expecting, the Waldorf-Astoria?” Hank asked. “You knew we were going to be roughing it. Think of it as a field camp.”
Ellis harrumphed. “That would be putting it kindly.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Somewhere in the ship’s latrine, I suspect,” said Ellis. “I suppose Freddie chose this dump.”
“Of course.”
“He might as well have sent us to a cave.”
Ellis stepped forward and rapped on the door. He waited maybe half a minute, then rapped again. Almost immediately after, he began thumping it with his fist.
The door swung open, and Ellis leapt to the side as a huge man in striped blue pajama bottoms and an undershirt burst forth. He was tall, broad, and densely muscled. His black hair stuck up in tufts, his beard was wild, and he was barefoot. He came to a stop, ran his eyes over Ellis and Hank, then peered around them to get a look at the car.
“And what are you wanting, at this time of night?” he demanded.
“We need rooms,” Hank said around the edges of an unlit cigarette. He flicked the top of his lighter open, but before he could get it lit, the man’s hand shot forward and snapped it shut.
“You canna smoke outside!” he said incredulously.
After a shocked pause—the man had reached within inches of his face—Hank said, “Why not?”
“The Blackout. Are you daft?”
Hank slipped both the lighter and cigarette into his pocket.
“Americans, are you?” the man continued.
“That we are,” said Hank.
“Where’s your commanding officer?”
“We’re not being billeted. We’re private citizens,” said Hank.
“In that case, you can take yourselves elsewhere.” The man turned his head to the left and spat. Had he turned to the right, he would have seen me.
“I believe it’s all been arranged,” Hank said. “Does the name Frederick Stillman ring a bell?”
“Not so much as a tinkle. Get on with you, then. Leave me in peace.” He turned away, clearly planning to leave us on the side of the road.
I choked back a sob. If I didn’t end up in a bed after everything we’d been through, I didn’t think I wanted to survive at all.
“Wait,” said Hank quickly. “You have no rooms?”
“I didn’t say that,” the man said. “Do you know what bloody time it is?”
Hank and Ellis exchanged glances.
“Of course,” said Ellis. “We’re sorry about that. Perhaps we could make it worth your while.”
The man grunted. “Spoken like a toff. I’ve no truck with the likes o’ you. Off you go.” He shooed them away with the back of his hand.
From just past the car, the driver snorted.
“Please,” Ellis said quickly. “The journey was rough, and my wife—she’s unwell.”
The man stopped. “Your what?” he said slowly.
Ellis inclined his head in my direction.
The man turned and saw me crouched against the wall. He studied me for a moment, then looked back at Ellis.
“You’ve dragged a woman across the Atlantic during a war, then? Are you completely off your head?”
Ellis’s expression went dark, but he said nothing.
The man’s eyes flitted briefly skyward. He shook his head. “Fine. You can stay the night, but it’s only on account of your wife. And hurry up getting that kit inside or I’ll have the warden around for the Blackout. Again. And if I do, I’ll not be the one paying the fine, mark my words.”
“Sure, sure. Of course,” said Hank. “Say, can you do me a favor and send out the porter?”
The man responded with a single bark of laughter and went inside.
“Huh,” said Hank. “I guess there’s no porter.”
“And this surprises you because…?” said Ellis.
Hank looked back at the car, whose suspension was significantly lowered by the weight of our belongings.
Ellis came to me and held out his hands. As he pulled me to my feet, he said, “Go inside, find a seat, and make that brute bring you something to drink. We’ll be in as soon as we’ve got this mess sorted out.”