Chapter 26

May 1945

The sound of a key sliding home and the snick of the latch made them both start. Andrew jumped up, looking at Sam rather wildly.

"Wait. I'll go tell him so he doesn't die of shock, all right?"

Andrew nodded, words suddenly lost to him now the time had come.

Sam went quickly into the hall, closing the lounge door. The front door was just opening and Foyle came through, bringing a small gust of a warm evening breeze with him.

"You're all right?" He asked with concern. "Brookie said you were caught up with SSAFA work but you sounded breathless…"

"Christopher," she began, putting a hand on his arm, "I've been with Andrew all afternoon."

The words didn't seem to register, so she added, "Andrew is home, Christopher, he's here in the lounge and wants to see you."

Sam found that tears were coming in to her eyes and she blinked furiously. "Andrew is safe. He's here. We talked all afternoon — about everything. He's so desperately sorry, Christopher, and terrified beyond words to see you. He's so worried about what you think of him."

Foyle nodded mutely, a look of comprehension slowly spreading across his face.

She led him to the lounge and watched him go through the door. Andrew was stood with his hands in his pockets, face a palette of emotions. Foyle stopped, hat in hand, staring at him and finally registering what he saw before him. The two men looked at each other, eyes filling. Andrew made a sort of squeak, but no words came.

With his head bent, Foyle stepped towards him, wrapping the young man in his arms. Andrew burst into tears on his shoulder, gripping his father tightly. Putting a hand up to cup the back of his head like he had done when Andrew was a boy, Foyle soothed him with soft murmurs. He too was crying, blinking and looking up as if having a private conversation with God.

Sam stepped back, not wanting to intrude. She sniffed and wiped her face on the sleeve of her cardigan. Why she was crying, she couldn't say, but she thought it was a mix of relief and happiness. This had been long overdue, and now that they were all together again a sense of calm seemed to come over the house, breaking all tensions. She felt utterly exhausted from such an emotional day. The talking had worn her out more than she had realised, and now that the two men were reunited, all she wanted was to sleep. Closing the door to the lounge, she went quietly up the stairs, grateful and relieved.

The room was dark and her head felt heavy still with sleep when she awoke sometime later. She wasn't sure what had woken her. There was a softness to the air and she felt very aware of the weight of the eiderdown on her shoulders. She was warm and comfortable.

"It's only me," said Foyle's voice from the dark.

Sam put a hand out and closed her eyes again, feeling him sat next to her on the bed.

"I've brought you a cup of tea." A soft caress lingered on her cheek before pushing the hair from her face.

"Hmm, thank you. You've a lovely beside manner…" she murmured, eyes still closed.

She heard him chuckle softly, the caress of his hand bringing her into wakefulness.

"What time is it?"

"Far past supper time."

"Thought so — I'm famished." She opened an eye, "How are you both?"

"We're fine. He's fine. We've talked."

Sam dragged open both eyes and saw Foyle come into dim focus. She sat up a bit and he handed her the cup of tea.

"We didn't resort to slugging it out, so never fear."

His eyes were twinkling at her and she noticed a deep sense of peace in his features. Grasping his hand, she whispered, "I'm so glad, Christopher."

"Did you talk it all through?" she added, taking a tentative sip.

"We did."

"And you, Christopher? Are you fine?"

"I am, yes. It seems a bit surreal to have him here."

When he didn't elaborate, she looked at him inquisitively, "Surely you have more to say than that? What did you talk about?"

Foyle's mouth turned downwards into a soft smile, "You."

"Oh."

"No, but we did talk about it all — got it all out in the open. The scotch helped I think, but it's done. We can now move on and be a family again."

Sam heard the catch in his voice and she set the tea down on the bedside table. "Come here, darling man."

Pulling him to her, he sank against her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck as he was wont to do. "Oh Sam, I'm so relieved. He's safe and sound… he's home for good…" His emotions were no longer masked and she felt his tears, hot against her skin.

Running her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, she asked, "Where is he now?"

"Asleep." Foyle pulled back to rest his forehead on hers. "You've both worn each other out this afternoon."

"I told him everything that had happened since I last saw him. There was a lot to say."

"I think perhaps you should both stay home tomorrow. I don't like the idea of you driving about the countryside anyway, Sam. Not in your condition."

Though she was set to protest, she bit back her words. "Perhaps you're right. I am awfully tired. He'll need company for a bit anyway. Until he's himself again."

"Thank you, Sam." Foyle looked at her gratefully, glad she hadn't objected to his suggestion. He let a hand slide to her middle, cradling the protruding bump. "Not long now."

She nodded. "Lay with me for a bit? I'm so comfortable, I can't bear the thought of moving."

Foyle stood and came around the bed, pulling off his shoes as he went and slipping off his tie. He nestled against her carefully, tucking her against him under the eiderdown. A warm hand snaked around her middle.

"Goodness you're big now, I can hardly reach around you."

She elbowed him in the ribs.

His lips were at her ear, "But I love you, no matter."

Closing her eyes, she leaned back, enjoying the feel of his broad chest against her back. She imagined she could feel his heart beating and it lulled her back into sleepiness.

"Though I am constantly grateful to you, Sam, I am particularly indebted to you for brining my son home."

She turned her head slightly to see him. "We all had a part to play, Christopher."

"Still." He nudged her with his nose.

"Love you, darling," she whispered, closing her eyes, letting the warmth of his love and protection cocoon her. She drifted back off to sleep in his arms — all was right with their world…