Someone brought a kit and placed it on the table. Charlotte took off her button-down shirt, figuring that her tank top would be cleaner and less obstructive. She washed her hands in the sink, which thankfully had hot running water, and found a cloth on which to dry her hands. She hoped it was clean. She searched the kit for a pair of gloves and came up empty, but she kept looking, hoping she could find something to numb him or at least dull the pain.
“What medicine do you have? Antibiotics? Numbing agents?” Charlotte asked.
“We don’t have anything here,” Harriet answered tersely.
Thomas’s eyes were fluttering open and closed and he was groaning wordlessly. This wasn’t going to be pleasant for him.
With Daniel and another man trying their best to hold Thomas still, Charlotte worked as quickly as she could to irrigate the wound and stitch the tissue back together. It wasn’t pretty and the scar would be quite noticeable, but it would hold. There was no way to know yet, though, if the wound had been exposed to infection.
By the time Charlotte finished, her hands and forearms were almost bloody as Thomas. “He needs a transfusion right away,” she told Harriet. “Do you know his blood type?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Daniel answered, rolling up his sleeve. “I’m O-negative.”
Her mouth hung open for a second before she asked in disbelief, “Are you seriously suggesting a direct transfusion? Don’t you have any reserves? Bagged blood that’s been screened? I mean, I can’t imagine this is the first time that something like this –”
“We lost many of our supplies in a raid,” Daniel interrupted, turning a chair around to sit down next to Thomas.
Daniel and Charlotte both looked to Harriet, who gave a sharp nod and said, “Do it.”
With a held back sigh, Charlotte washed her hands again and then set up the transfusion.
Harriet led her to another room and spoke in hushed tones. “Thank you, Charlie.”
Charlotte didn’t know how to react, standing there with Harriet, having minutes ago been covered with the sticky blood of Harriet’s husband coating her hands and forearms. She felt oddly chilled, standing there in her tank top. “Should I expect more of these surprise calls?”
“We needed someone right away and I knew I could count on you,” Harriet said, a slight frown sullying her face.
“I’m sorry. I just would have assumed you had a medic of your own,” Charlotte said to her.
“We used to, until recently,” Harriet said.
Charlotte didn’t ask what she meant. “Are you going to tell me what happened with Thomas?”
“Don’t you think it’s better that you don’t know?” Harriet asked.
Charlotte gave an uncertain shrug in response. She wasn’t indifferent, but rather she didn’t know if she should press Harriet on the topic. “I should monitor them – Thomas and Daniel, I mean,” Charlotte said. “And Thomas will need a course of antibiotics, if you can arrange for that.”
Harriet nodded and left, and Charlotte returned to the kitchen.
After the transfusion was complete, Daniel rolled down his sleeve and helped with supporting Thomas as he was moved to the next room, where a couch had been covered in a sheet for him to lie down. As the others filed out of the room, Harriet again appeared at Charlotte’s side.
“There’s a shower upstairs that you can use, if you want. I’ll show you to it.” Harriet led Charlotte up the wooden staircase.
Once in the bathroom, Charlotte was surprised that Harriet started the shower for her. Harriet moved to lean back against the sink and Charlotte realized she wasn’t eager to get back downstairs. Curious, Charlotte thought. In the midst of the worry and tension and whatever harm had befallen Thomas, perhaps Harriet’s attention was here with her.
Charlotte peeled off her tank top and let it drop to the floor. She paused, her hand hovering over the button of her trousers, and boldly repeated a request she’d once made of Harriet. “Join me,” she said.
Silently, Harriet stepped closer. Her hands covered Charlotte’s. She kissed the side of Charlotte’s neck before her lips paused beside her ear. “Not today,” she whispered. It was the same response she’d given Charlotte the last time she’d made her request.
Harriet stepped away, looking over her shoulder toward the door before saying, “Duty calls.”
#
As Charlotte was toweling off from the shower, someone knocked on the door. “Yes?” she called, hoping it would be Harriet on the other side of the door.
Instead, Daniel entered the bathroom and placed a set of clothes on the sink. He seemed unfazed by her near-nudity. “Harriet said you should wear these.”
Charlotte frowned, disliking what she interpreted as an order. “My own clothes will do just fine.”
He knelt and shoved her dirty clothes into a canvass bag as he replied, “Your clothes contain evidence. You’ll need to wear the clothes provided for you.”
“I don’t think so. You can’t tell me–”
“Is there a problem?” Charlotte heard Harriet’s voice from the hallway.
“No problem,” Daniel said, standing with his canvass bag of her clothes. “I was just giving Charlie her clothes as you asked.”
Harriet stepped into the now very crowded bathroom and said, “Very well. Thank you.”
Daniel left and Charlotte stood there, the towel wrapped around her and barely covering the essential parts. “I don’t understand,” she told Harriet.
“It’s standard procedure, Charlie,” Harriet said, her arms folded. “We’ll incinerate your clothes just in case any of Thomas’s blood got on them.”
“You don’t trust me?” Charlotte asked incredulously.
“I trust you, Charlie. And I’m doing this for your safety, too. It’s too early to know if Thomas’s identity has been discovered. If your own flat were searched and it was found that you had clothes with Thomas’s blood on them, how would that look for you? An American with rebel blood on her clothes?”
“First, I’m not sure there’s any blood on my clothes to begin with. And even if there was, we’re on the same football team, so not only is that a legitimate connection, but also a plausible explanation – there could have been an injury. And this is ridiculous.”
“And do you normally play football in those trousers?” She sighed and said, “Come on, Charlie. Don’t blow this out of proportion. They’re just clothes.”
“I don’t need you to provide for me, Harriet,” Charlotte spat her words.
“And I don’t need you to question my decisions, Charlie,” she answered coldly. “I have enough to think about, especially now with Thomas’s situation.”
Charlotte felt a twinge of guilt and sympathy for making the circumstances more difficult for Harriet, but as she opened her mouth to apologize, Harriet added, “You should get dressed and go. I’ll have someone escort you.”
“I can find my own way,” Charlotte said tersely, the anger flaring up again.
“I’m sure you can,” Harriet replied before leaving the bathroom.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlotte dressed in the long-sleeve, button-down linen shirt, fitted slacks, matching bra and underwear that had been provided for her. She was unnerved at how well the clothes fitted, wondering from where they had been procured when medical supplies – so much more essential – had been so scarce.
Someone else had taken over monitoring Thomas when she had gone upstairs for her shower, and now others had joined him as well. She checked on him and was relieved that his condition had already significantly improved. She felt as though she should stay to make sure he didn’t take a turn for the worse, but Harriet’s words still rang in her ears. Besides, Charlotte thought, they knew where to find her if they needed her again.
She slipped out the front door, and found Daniel a step behind her, her baseball cap in his hand once again. “You should be resting,” she said.
“You need an escort,” he replied, handing over h
er cap, the only part of her original outfit that remained, besides her shoes, which apparently had been cleaned.
She put her cap on and said, “No, I don’t. Just because Harriet says so –”
“Listen, Charlie,” Daniel said, taking a step into her personal space. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Harriet, but –”
“That’s because it’s none of your concern,” she cut him off.
“It is my concern because Harriet is my concern. You may not understand the big picture here, but –”
“Don’t condescend to me, Daniel,” Charlotte snapped.
“Would you quit doing that?” Daniel’s expression had softened. “Look, I’m just trying to say that Harriet’s under a lot of pressure. It’s a difficult time.”
Charlotte began walking down the street in what she believed was the right general direction. Daniel fell in step beside her. “I get that it’s a difficult time,” Charlotte said.
He grunted.
“What?” she asked. “You think I don’t understand the… political situation?”
He shook his head and sighed, “You don’t even realize the half of it.”
“So enlighten me,” she said.
“You know I can’t,” he replied.
“Then I don’t know what to say to you,” she said.
He stopped walking and so did Charlotte. Daniel regarded her seriously and said quietly, “Most of us are loyal to Harriet. But there are some who doubt her, who think we should be taking more aggressive action.”
“Go on,” she said, frowning.
“We don’t know who attacked Thomas, but he may not have been the target,” Daniel said, his voice just above a whisper.
Charlotte swallowed hard, realizing that she hadn’t considered the possibility that Harriet had been with Thomas when he was injured.
Daniel continued, “Harriet will do whatever it takes to protect the organization and its members. But she can’t be seen to be weak right now. She can’t afford to let her guard down. She can’t afford a distraction.”
Was that what she was to Harriet? A distraction?
Daniel added, “Anyway, if she didn’t have a chance to thank you for what you did with helping Thomas, then I want to thank you on behalf of all of us.” He held out his hand.
Charlotte shook his hand, silently, unsure of what to say in response.
“There’s a Tube station six blocks that way,” he motioned with a jerk of his chin.
“Thank you, Daniel,” she said.
“See you around, Charlie,” he replied.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Charlotte arrived at Erin’s door. She knocked her characteristic knock that Erin would recognize as her, but as the door swung open, a smile faded from Erin’s face.
“Charlie…” she said with concern.
“I was just wondering, could I crash here for a bit? Comfort of a caring friend and all that?” Charlotte asked.
“Come in, my dear,” Erin said, ushering her friend inside. Erin was wearing her pajamas – a matching set of blue and pink pinstriped cotton.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I just hadn’t changed yet. You know me, an early riser.” She pulled Charlotte into her arms for a long embrace before asking, “Is everything okay?”
Charlotte stepped out of her boots and said, “I’m sorry. It’s just, sometimes it’s nice to see a friendly face.”
“Is it Harriet?” she asked.
“Yes, partly,” Charlotte admitted, hesitatingly, and said, “But I don’t really want to talk about her.”
“All right,” Erin said. Her hand went to Charlotte’s upper arm as she said, “I just want to make sure you’re okay, Charlie.”
“Honestly, I feel a lot better just being here.”
Erin kissed her cheek and said, “I’m glad.”
It didn’t take long for the feelings of regret to find Charlotte. After leaving Daniel and before arriving at Erin’s apartment, Charlotte had taken a side trip – to the salons in the East End of the city.
#
She awoke, alone, in Erin’s bed, where Erin had allowed her to sleep for a couple of hours. “What was I thinking,” she said to the empty room.
She expected to find that Erin had gone to work but instead she was in the kitchen making tea. “Erin,” she said by way of a greeting as she entered.
“Hello, my dear,” Erin said. “I made you a cuppa.”
Charlotte took the mug of tea from Erin and quietly said, “Thanks.”
“So, Charlie,” she said and then bit her lip. “Want to tell me what you’ve been up to?”
“Sorry?” Charlotte said, buying herself time. What a day she had had. Between stitching up a rebel terrorist and visiting the salons, she’d had a day that she wasn’t eager to discuss.
Erin sighed and gave an easy laugh. “If you can’t tell me…”
Charlotte looked at the steam coming off her cup of tea and admitted quietly, “I went to the red light district.”
“Oh,” Erin said, her voice betraying her surprise. After a moment she asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I found… what one tends to find there,” Charlotte said with an unhappy sigh. “But I didn’t go through with it.”
“With… having sex with a prostitute?” Erin asked, her tone kind.
Charlotte held her own arms at the elbows, feeling vulnerable. “I went there… I don’t even know why,” she said, faltering, not wanting to tell Erin about stitching up Thomas. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting to do anything. But there was this woman – she was maybe thirty years old – and she was working one of the windows, waiting for a customer. She looked, in a way, so much like Maggie.”
“Oh, Charlie…” Erin said.
Charlotte swallowed hard and then continued, “I don’t know if I would’ve approached her anyway, but there was this group of men – boys, really – and one of them was being egged on by his pals to go up to the window. And when he eventually did, I heard that woman’s voice, and she didn’t sound at all like Maggie after all. After that, well, I guess I made my way here.”
“Charlie,” Erin said slowly, carefully choosing her words, “Do you know why I haven’t slept with you?”
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at her.
“Come on, my dear. You know I love nothing more than to flirt with you. And I know that, in the right mood, you might be receptive to my affections,” she smiled, apparently amused, and touched Charlotte’s arm.
“Go on, then, and tell me,” Charlotte said.
“Because, my dear,” she said, taking her hand, “I know you too well. And you don’t have friends with benefits – no, you make love when you fall in love. For me, I can sleep with someone just because, well, I like them and think they’re probably good in bed.” She cocked her head slightly and said, “It doesn’t give me an existential crisis, my dear. But you, you’re different. That’s why you haven’t ended up in my arms, as welcoming as they may have been,” she said, a wry smile returning to her face.
“Oh,” Charlotte breathed.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Erin added. “I think you and I could really work well together. But your heart’s not in it, and that’s all right.”
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said soberly, unable to shake the feeling that Erin knew her better than she knew herself.
“Oh, Charlie, just drink your tea. And tell me what’s going on with Harriet – what drove you into the red light district, as if that were still a sin,” she said.
Erin’s hand still grasping Charlotte’s, Charlotte gave it a squeeze. “You really are too good for me, Erin,” she said.
“I know,” Erin replied, flashing her a grin.
Charlotte wanted to tell her all that she knew about the rebellion. She wanted to tell her about Harriet, and how she had sewn up her husband’s arm and given him a dangerous blood transfusion. But she couldn’t bring herself to it, and instead she made an excuse about n
eeding to go to work, where she wasn’t due for another two hours.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Days passed. Charlotte sat alone eating her lunch, quietly absorbed in her own thoughts, and jumped when Joanna’s voice sounded from behind her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Joanna said. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, motioning to the spot next to Charlotte on the bench.
“Oh, no, I was just thinking. Sorry,” Charlotte replied, as she scooted over a couple of inches as a gesture of accommodation.
Joanna opened up her lunchbox and got out a sandwich, carefully peeling away the foil. “So, I heard that you had a visit to the Birds’ Nest.”
Charlotte looked at her, confused, and repeated, “The Birds’ Nest?”
She waved dismissively and replied, “The other day. Thomas. It’s what we call that house.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said. Of course Joanna would know all about it, Charlotte thought, but why was she bringing it up? They sat, eating, for several long moments.
“You did good work there, Charlie. You know, you could be an invaluable member of the team,” Joanna said before taking a bite of her sandwich.
“Because I used to be a medic? I’m sure there are plenty of others – doctors, nurses.”
“Sure, it’s useful that you have that training, but that’s not all that I mean,” Joanna said. “Take your job here, for example. Just think about what we have access to, and what could be done by someone with your kind of knowledge.”
Charlotte’s lunch wasn’t sitting well in her stomach, which was beginning to work itself into knots. “I’m not sure what you mean, Joanna.”
“Relax, Charlie. All I’m saying is that there are more ways to win a war than through brute force. It’s not all about hand-to-hand combat,” Joanna said – a bit too casually for Charlotte’s comfort. Joanna must have caught the look on her face because she added, “Don’t worry. There’s no one to hear us talking here.” She took another bite of her sandwich and then said, “Anyway, Harriet wanted me to speak with you.”
The Organization Page 11
