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“We hardly know each other,” Izzie protested.
“That doesn’t seem to matter much these days,” said Alexandra, a little more sober now.
Izzie knew that her friend must be thinking about Nancy and her flying officer.
“What about you and Ben?” she asked, trying not to let melancholy creep into the evening.
“He’s nice enough,” said Alexandra with a shrug.
“I think he thinks you walk on water.”
“That’s just because I can speak horse,” said Alexandra.
It’s because you’re five foot ten inches of beautiful, sunny, intelligent aristocrat, and he’s never seen anything like you before, she wanted to say, but she had a sneaking suspicion that would only make Alexandra clam up.
“He’s sweet,” Alexandra continued, “but I’m not interested in attaching myself to a man who’s only going to be sent away and forget me as soon as his assignment here is done.”
Some of the wind went out of Izzie’s sails. “That’s very practical of you.”
Alexandra clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, dear, I’m very sorry, Izzie. Jack’s not like that, I’m certain of it.”
Izzie laid a hand on Alexandra’s forearm. “It’s all right, really it is. I like Jack, but I know that it’s early days and none of us know what’s going to happen in this war.”
Alexandra covered Izzie’s hand with her own and gave it a little squeeze. “Forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” said Izzie firmly.
They walked back to their hut, perhaps a little more subdued than before, but happy nonetheless. When they pushed open the door they found the usual cheerful chaos of their unit.
“Izzie, thank goodness!” Amelia cried out, brandishing a uniform skirt. “It’s a disaster. I’ve torn a hole in my skirt.”
“Izzie and Alexandra have just come back from a date,” admonished Grace. “Izzie doesn’t want to fix your skirt, she wants to swoon about Jack.”
Izzie laughed and stuck out her hand. “Give it here, Amelia. I’ll see what I can do.”
Alexandra flopped down on her bunk. “I’m exhausted.”
“Tell us everything,” said Lottie, who had already wrapped her hair in rags. “Did you dance?”
“Izzie,” said Grace, looking up from the magazine she was reading, “there’s a letter that came for you while you were out. I left it on your bed.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Amelia, give me one moment while I read it and then I’ll take a look at your skirt.”
She picked up the letter and immediately recognized her sister’s handwriting. She set the skirt aside, sat down on her bunk, and tore open the envelope.
The letter was long, and as she read her eyes widened as sentences jumped out at her.
I am no longer living with Hugo at the flat in Marylebone…
Last autumn, I discovered that he has been conducting an affair…
I have moved back into our old bedroom…
Our mother blamed me for Papa’s death…
I thought that you would be better off without me…
When she finished the letter, she sifted back through the pages and read it all over again. Then she lifted her head and said, “I’m sorry, Amelia. I must answer this.”
