Chapter 25: I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall

Author's note: hoping to get the second half of this chapter out this afternoon, off to an industry meeting. Reviews welcomed. Thank you for reading.

You spend the rest of the night packing your things. You're going to head back to Saskatchewan. Everyone here knows you killed a man, even if you didn't; you'll get an easier break back home. You leave a few notes on the dresser; Gladys, Lorna. Kate.

At least in Saskatchewan you'll be able to wash her grubby fingerprints off your heart.

Because that's how she's made your heart feel, recently. Grubby.

You get dressed even though it's dark outside; it makes you feel like you're ready to leave. You're just about packed when you shift the heavy iron bedframe from the wall, scratch the initials BB and MR into the plaster just above the skirting board. As far as you can tell your real last name is Braun; it's your grandfather's name on your father's side. It's highly unlikely that anyone will find it but no one will connect it to you and hopefully no one will think of Kate as Marian Rowley. You move the bed back with a satisfied grunt.

You came to the big city to get a job and make something of yourself. If you're going to run home with your tail between your legs, you want to leave a mark somewhere in this city other than the murder pages. You picked up a paper at the club. You're not heavily featured; there is a war on, but you're in there. Acquitted of the murder of Vernon Rowley. Acquitted, good. Murder in a sentence with your name? Not so good. At least you've still got your security clearance and a munitions factory in Regina to look forward to.

"Ivan knows." Kate's suddenly standing in your open doorway. It's very early, no one else is awake. She shuts the door behind her and surveys your room.

"And," you ask her to elaborate.

"And he says he doesn't care, that what happened just makes me more special. Betty, he wants to marry me. He wants more. He wants more than I can give him."

"And what do you want?" She takes a deep breath.

"If you're going to move out or go back to Saskatchewan, I want to go with you. If you're going to stay here, I want to stay with you. Betty…" she pauses. "You've always been more important to me than anyone. I don't know if I could stay here without you." She takes a step toward you and reaches out. You step back.

"Sure you could. You got Gladys and Vera and Marco and Ivan, you got a whole bunch of people to take care of you. Or you could head up North with the boys, when they go."

"Betty, why are you so cold? I just told you I can't spend my life without you in it." Her forehead is lined with confusion.

"You would have had to, if I'd swung." You look up briefly and her face; it feels like you just hit her and you have to qualm an urge to comfort her. Instead you just watch her face.

"I killed a man. That's against the law. Loving you is against the law too, but I do." She's awful quiet and you think she might mean it but there's something you don't trust about this sudden certainty.

"And when the police come, I'll be the one taking the fall again, Kate. Sitting in a cell for five days was not a lot of fun. Doing it for the rest of my life – I'm not doing that. Especially if you won't even come visit me."

"Betty, I haven't always done right by you." Kate starts, and you snort at her understatement.

"Stay here, marry Ivan, have a wonderful damn life Kate, but leave me out of it." You tell her, busily folding your underthings.

"Betty, I mean to do right by you now." She reaches for you but you dodge around her and slip out the door. It's too early to get cigarettes for your trip and it's just started to drizzle so you go down to the cellar and look at the boiler and the pickles and the place where you nearly ended a life and someone nearly ended yours and you remember Kate cleaning and wrapping your hand and you lean your head against a cool wall to cry.

"Betty?" you hear from behind you and you expect it to be Kate but it's Gladys; she must have seen the light. "Why is Kate crying in your room? And why have you packed all your things?" You don't turn around at her hand on your shoulder.

"Going home, Princess, where nobody knows my name."

"Oh Betts, you were cleared," she starts, but you cut her off.

"Still in all the papers. Everyone knows, Gladys. How long do you think Akins will keep me on, huh?"

"For as long as he needs good workers. Betty. Please don't do this. Come upstairs, you're wet and cold. Please." You let her lead you into the kitchen where she makes the coffee you crave. You watch her carefully but you still don't know how she makes such mediocre war-coffee taste so good.