Chapter 38
16 July, 1941 Vauxhall Road, London
"Something's off about you, Dorcas," Anneliese observed as she cast sideways glances at her friend.
Dorcas sighed. Something was off. But she didn't even know where to begin. Did she start with her near-death experience in the Underground with Morty and Tom? The departure of her uncle to a mental hospital? Did she have to go back further to Tom's frightening actions on the Hogwarts Express? Or was it the fact that she'd spent that morning crying beginning with the moment Jack walked out the door?
"It hasn't been a very restful break from school so far," was all she could muster in the way of an explanation.
"Well, you'll have to find a way to be jolly for Cherry's birthday party," Anneliese warned.
"Maybe I won't go. Cherry doesn't need a wet blanket to bring the mood down."
"Nonsense! Cherry wouldn't hear of you being excluded," Anneliese argued. "What do you think about this?"
Anneliese held up a darling little hat complete with white flowers and a bunch of cherries on the brim.
"A little on the nose, don't you think?" Dorcas asked, gently vetoing the potential birthday gift.
It had been so easy to think of a gift for Cherry in their first year because she loved Muggle inventions. The camera they'd chipped in to jointly gift their friend for Christmas was still in pieces for all Dorcas knew.
Anneliese had bullied Dorcas into a charm bracelet for a gift this past year. Cherry had been an ungrateful and unenthusiastic recipient of that gift. Now Dorcas was torn between giving her a present that she would be over the moon about, but destroy within a fortnight, or a subdued, sentimental trinket that she would hate.
Dorcas gravitated toward a display of brass and nickel plated cigarette lighters. Cherry would love one.
"What about one of these?" Dorcas asked.
She could just see Cherry's reaction to the gadget. Dorcas laughed. The feeling seemed alien to her. She immediately squelched it and replaced her grin with a more passive expression.
"I'm getting her the hat," Anneliese said, stomping her foot and somehow still managing to exude an air of mannered miss at the same time.
"Okay," Dorcas said. "I'll get her the lighter."
"She'll burn her house down, Dorcas!"
Dorcas shrugged. She'd made up her mind.
As they strolled to the dress shop two blocks away Anneliese pried further.
"Why hasn't your break been a restful one, Dorcas?" The bell to the shop tinkled. "We've only been home from school for two weeks."
"Well," Dorcas replied, keeping her eyes on a rack of dresses in blues and greens, while Anneliese gravitated to pink. "My uncle had to go away yesterday. You remember that I lived with my mum and my Uncle Morty?"
"Yes," Anneliese confirmed. "He's non-magical." She studied a light pink organza garment.
"His mind was injured when he was a boy and he has a lot of difficulties now."
"But he's lived with you since you were a baby, right?"
Dorcas nodded and plucked a green plaid dress in a cotton voile from the rack. "Before I was born, actually."
Anneliese shook her head and made a face. Dorcas put the dress back.
"So what's changed? Why did he have to go now?"
Dorcas continued to study her choices. Cherry's party would be a birthday tea at Anneliese's home in Chelsea. Dorcas tried to use this information and the lessons that Betty taught her about selecting dresses for the right occasions. But she was having trouble.
"There was an accident," Dorcas offered. She selected a navy blue dress with some interesting pintucking on the bodice.
Anneliese made a face and shook her head once more.
"What sort of accident?" Anneliese prompted, lifting a lavender dress with tiny white flowers off the rack.
"We were in the Underground. Going to get Cherry a present, actually," Dorcas explained. "Morty had a couple of bad experiences down there before that I didn't know about. He got agitated and fell on the tracks."
Anneliese gasped and touched her fingers to her lips like a proper film star.
"Heavens! What happened next?"
The racks of dresses were abandoned and Anneliese turned her attention fully to Dorcas. Dorcas wished she hadn't begun the story.
"His head hit the track and he was knocked unconscious," she continued.
"Dorcas!" Anneliese exclaimed.
Dorcas fought a wave of irritation at something accusatory in Anneliese's tone when she said her name. If Dorcas was being honest, it was the internal tone she used with herself. She never should have endangered Morty like that.
"He's better now," Dorcas rushed to reassure her. "But he had to go to a place where they could manage him better. My mum can't do it alone. And I'm clearly no help at all."
"I'm sure that's not true, Dory," Anneliese said, immediately switching tones.
She handed Dorcas a dress in ivory with a bird print on it. She selected a light blue dress for herself and guided Dorcas to the back of the shop where the fitting rooms were.
Anneliese expertly undid Dorcas's buttons down the back of her dress and then turned for Dorcas to unhook her clasp.
"So how did you manage to get him off the tracks?" Anneliese continued her questioning as she stripped down to her silk slip.
Dorcas distractedly did the same.
"We used magic. And there were some Good Samaritans on the platform as well. But it was a close call."
Dorcas shrugged into the ivory dress with birds. The transformation surprised her. She wouldn't have chosen the color, or the pattern. It reminded her of Tom's pet name for her. Her mind went to the handmade necklace he'd given her, now laying in a box under her school robes in her trunk.
The color did something interesting for her hair and skin. Her dark brown waves now appeared almost black against the light color of the dress. Her skin, rather than looking sallow as she expected it would was still very fair, but had a sort of glow to it.
"We used magic?" Anneliese prompted.
Dorcas startled out of her study of her reflection.
"Yes, Tom was with us."
"Tom?" Anneliese's eyes grew wide as her reflection stared at Dorcas. "Are you two together again?"
Dorcas watched her button up the light blue cotton lawn dress. The color added layers of blue to her already startling eyes.
"No. We're not on speaking terms, actually."
"But he saved your life, Dory! He clearly has feelings for you!"
Dorcas considered for a moment what Tom's feelings for her might actually be. He confused her entirely when she tried to categorize the way he might feel about her. His emotions could swing like a pendulum.
Dorcas had no comment to add to this last statement and so she shrugged.
"That's too bad! He looked so sad and lost when you broke up with him, Dory."
"He did? I thought you and Cherry would be relieved. You two don't like him."
"Not true," Anneliese sniffed, tying a sash around her tiny waist. "I like everybody. But Cherry still holds out hope for you and Cal. It's nothing personal against Tom."
Dorcas looked down at her scuffed shoes. These were not the right sort for this dress. She had a pair of black heels that might do.
She considered what Anneliese said about Cherry's wish for Dorcas and Cal to be a couple. The thought was alien to her. She'd always wanted Cal to think well of her, but she didn't have the sort of feelings for him that she now had for Jack. She may not have understood the subtleties between regard and love before, but after spending time with Jack, she could tell the difference.
"That dress needs white heels, or some espadrilles. And a hat," Anneliese added.
Dorcas felt an ache in her chest when she thought of Jack. She missed him. She found herself daydreaming about him. What would it be like for him to accompany her to Cherry's party? How would he be around her friends? She smiled to herself. He would be so adorable trying to use Wizarding terms and getting them wrong.
When she looked back at Anneliese's reflection, the blonde girl was studying her with an eyebrow raised knowingly.
Dorcas didn't like the attention and pointed questions about her love life. "How about you? Are you and Beau steady now?"
"Oh," Anneleise chirped.
She'd been caught off guard. Dorcas saw in her mind that she'd interpreted Dorcas's smile wrongly. She assumed Dorcas's foolish grin had come about because she'd mentioned Cal. But, Dorcas reasoned, she had no context to understand that her smile was for a different boy entirely.
"Well, Beau is a dumb little puppy dog. I think he's cute."
Dorcas knew Beau's mind was filled with details about Anneliese. He took notice of her small, delicate hands, the halo of golden hair that caught the sun, her laugh.
"He likes you a lot," Dorcas replied.
"D'you think?"
Anneliese's mind became distracted as Dorcas knew it would. She was now inventorying Beau's qualities silently, giving Dorcas a break from the questions and a moment more to imagine how Jack would fit into her life.
:::
16 July, 1941 Number 19 Strattondale, Poplar
When Dorcas returned home with her shopping, her mother was seated at the kitchen table.
"Mum!" Dorcas cried, dropping her bags and rushing to embrace her mother.
Over her mother's shoulder, Dorcas saw a letter spread out before her in her Uncle Lysander's script. Her heart thudded, remembering her Aunt Eden's threats to tell her uncle that Dorcas was unchaperoned with a Muggle boy in Diagon Alley the night previously.
"Did Morty settle in alright? How is the hospital? Is it a nice place?"
Mary-Ellen kissed her daughter's cheek. "Sit, darling. Yes, the hospital seems very good. As I said, it's not a magical institution. It's more of a home where Morty can take classes and make friends. I think he'll thrive there."
Dorcas poured herself some tea as her mother sipped from her own steaming cup, glancing over the words on the page.
"How did you get along without me yesterday?"
Dorcas busied herself with stirring in sugar and avoided her mother's gaze.
"Fine."
"I've had a letter from your uncle," Mary-Ellen continued.
"Oh?"
"He mentions that you bumped into Aunt Eden in Diagon Alley."
Dorcas inhaled accidentally as she was blowing on her tea and choked. "Am I in trouble?"
"In trouble?"
"Yes," Dorcas spluttered. "Aunt Eden wasn't happy that I brought a Muggle friend into the Wizarding part of the city."
"Aunt Eden and I disagree on what is proper and improper," Mary-Ellen replied. "I think that what scandalized her the most was that your friend was a Muggle. I don't mean to say that I was thrilled at learning of you spending time in the company of a boy I haven't met. But that he's Muggle and that you took him into Diagon Alley are not important."
"He wanted to meet you. He is a very polite boy, mum," Dorcas explained.
"What is his name?"
"Jack Hardin," she answered.
"From Little Hangleton, Lincolnshire? The boy whose letters I have been passing along?"
"Yes, mum."
"Lincolnshire is a long way from London. He must really like you," Mary-Ellen noted.
Dorcas felt herself blush. "I don't know."
"What did you two do, besides cause your Aunt Eden paroxysms of mortification?"
"He took me to dinner. And then I took him to Betty's club. She wanted to meet him."
"Is Jack in school? Does he have a trade?"
"He's joined the army. That's why he was in town, actually," she responded. She'd debated keeping this detail from her mother. But she could never hide much of anything from her. Besides, she hoped Jack would continue to write to her and her mother was sure to notice the postmarks from any theater of the war Jack would be stationed in.
She swallowed hard at the thought of the dangerous places Jack could end up.
"Oh! Is he much older than you? That is not something that sits well with me."
"No, he's two years older than me. But he joined the war before he was eligible. I think he did it because he lost his sister in a car crash about a month ago and he has no one else now."
"Oh how sad!"
Dorcas looked into the murky brown depths of her teacup and wondered if her mother would forbid her from writing to Jack because he was older.
"Dorcas, I have always trusted you to make good decisions. You are a smart girl. A responsible girl. Maybe Eden was coming from a place of concern when she told Lysander that she'd seen you out with a boy. She probably wasn't. I have a feeling that if she didn't watch that Gemma like a hawk, she'd have a real problem on her hands. But you are not Gemma."
Dorcas felt her shoulders relax a bit at her mother's words.
"But I want to caution you about becoming too serious with a boy at such a young age. You are a very kind and loving person. I wouldn't wish for someone to take advantage of you. You have a good future ahead of you, darling. Boys can have a way of limiting a girl's choices in life."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean if you become sexually involved with a boy, Dorcas. If you become pregnant, you will be responsible for another person. A baby. That will be very hard to manage if you want to go further in school or have a career. You might think that the boy will always be around to help you raise that baby, but he might not. Some choices have big consequences. Remember that."
"Mum, I'm not having sex with any boys," Dorcas declared, feeling her cheeks heat.
"I'm glad to hear that. I did not think that you were. But I would not be a good mother if I didn't talk to you about these things."
"I suppose not," Dorcas conceded, sipping her tea.
"No boys have pressured you, have they?" Mary-Ellen asked.
She thought of Tom on the train home and of Evlyn at the Christmas party. "No Mum," she lied. It was an awful feeling to be dishonest to her mother. But what would Mary-Ellen do with that information if Dorcas had answered honestly?
Tom was out of her life now and Evlyn Rosier was never in it to begin with. She thought of other boys in her life. Jack didn't seem to be capable of pressing a girl into something she didn't want to do. In fact, she had tried to get him to go further than their first kiss and he'd stopped her.
"Just promise me you won't become too serious with a boy too soon. You don't want to be a wife and mother by the time you're seventeen. You have so much more in you. You want to be a healer! That's going to take a lot of focus and commitment."
Dorcas thought about her final few minutes with Jack before he left and how her perspective on being a wife and mother had shifted. When she thought of being his wife and the mother of his children, it was much more appealing. Was that really something so small? It could be an amazing future, Dorcas thought.
She thought about all of the sixth and seventh year girls who donned engagement rings and began planning their weddings. Some even left school before sitting their final exams because there was no point in finishing when their lives were already marked out for them. Dorcas had found these girls to be crazy and foolish. That is, until Jack.
"You married my father at eighteen. What is the difference of one or two years?"
"Don't follow my example, please. I wanted to be a healer once too. I had research grants secured, an internship at St. Mungo's ahead of me, and a very supportive partner in your father."
"So why didn't you do any of that?" Dorcas asked the question, suddenly feeling bad for becoming the hindrance to her mother's dreams.
"Morty. He'd just been sent to that awful hospital and I put it all on hold to take him away from there and raise him far from my father's influence."
"And you couldn't do that and become a healer?" Dorcas's voice was small and strained. She knew her mother had given up a lot in order to raise her and Morty, but she hadn't realized just how much.
"Times were different," Mary-Ellen explained. "There was no accommodation for a girl who had just left her home with a little brother in tow. I couldn't stay in trainee housing like I'd planned. Corbin asked me to marry him and he worked while also training to become an Auror. It was a hard couple of years. But I eventually became a nurse. That's fulfilling work, even if I never got to realize my dreams."
"You're a good nurse, mama," Dorcas agreed.
Mary-Ellen reached for her daughter's hand.
"But you can be so much more! Don't let anyone limit you. You can be a healer. Focus on school first. You will have plenty of time to find a good husband who will support you and begin a family later. Or don't get married at all! I know other magical families push their daughters into marriage for the sake of furthering wizard bloodlines and all of that. But you do what you want to do. Not what anyone else expects. Not what your aunt and uncle expect."
"I will, mama," Dorcas said, squeezing her mother's hand.
:::
30 November, 1958 Watermead, Aylesbury
"You're going to give Anneliese a break, Dory. She was just looking out for Wren. She loves her and she loves you. Don't hold it against her," Cherry pleaded.
Dorcas was curling ribbon on the last of a bunch of Christmas presents she was wrapping.
Cherry sipped her coffee and looked at Dorcas expectantly.
"Maybe," was all Dorcas would concede.
She was still angry remembering the way Anneliese and Beau had shielded Wren from her.
"What did Gemma have to say about Jonas?" Cherry asked, changing the subject when she saw she would get nowhere with Dorcas on the subject of Anneliese.
Dorcas could tell by the tone of her voice that Cherry was trying not to sound too anxious. But Dorcas also knew that this was the reason that Cherry had "popped by for a chat", to use her words for it.
"She's not returning any of my owls, not that I expected her to."
Dorcas poured herself a cup of coffee and sat.
"Something's wrong, Dorcas. I know it!" Cherry bit her lip.
Shaking her head, Dorcas insisted that Jonas's silence did not mean anything bad had happened.
"I was planning on stopping by Gemma's this afternoon. You're welcome to tag along if you like having doors slammed in your face."
"I will slam her face into the door," Cherry said, struggling to keep her voice neutral on the subject of Gemma Rackharrow.
"You're not going to come if it's just going to be round two between you. I refuse to referee your brawl."
"I'm not the one who–" Cherry began.
She was cut off as the fire in the sitting room made a popping and then a guttering noise.
"Hello? Dr. Meadowes? Healer Meadowes?" Dumbledore's voice called.
Dorcas and Cherry stood and came into the sitting room.
"I'm here, professor. Hello," Dorcas answered.
"Ah. Dr. Meadowes. Are you free for a quick chat?" the professor asked.
Dorcas looked at Cherry, unsure how to answer that.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore, you old dear," Cherry called in a sugary voice. Dorcas marveled at how quickly Cherry's tone could go from bee sting to honeycomb.
Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Is that Miss Weasley I hear?"
"It is," Dorcas confirmed. "You can come through anytime, sir. It's no trouble."
A moment passed and then the old Transfiguration teacher emerged from the fireplace.
"Professor!" Cherry squealed, casting herself into the old man's arms.
Dorcas threw her hands out as if to catch the headmaster should he topple.
"Miss Weasley! It is good to see you! And I hear congratulations are in order! Mr. Rackharrow is a lucky man!" Dumbledore said, hugging the former member of his house.
"Well, you could have been that lucky man, sir. You were my first heart's crush," Cherry teased.
Dorcas felt herself choke a little at Cherry's flirtations with their octogenarian teacher.
"And as I've told you before, I am flattered heartily, Miss Weasley. But sadly, it is the old bachelor life for me." He squeezed her shoulders like a fond grandfather. "It does my heart a lot of good to see you happy, my dear. No one deserves it more than you."
Fluffing a pillow on the sofa, Dorcas looked around for something to do to distract her. She felt like a third wheel in her own home.
"Dorcas," Dumbledore said, turning to her as he released Cherry. "I want to talk to you about the most recent revelation you shared with me. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"
"I'll make myself scarce," said Cherry, taking the hint and disappearing back into the dining room.
"My office?" Dorcas asked, leading the professor to a more private space. She didn't know if she was ready to discuss that particular memory with Dumbledore, but didn't appear to have much of a choice.
Once Dorcas closed the door behind them, Dumbledore turned to her. The look on his face was grief stricken.
"My dear girl," he began. "I am so sorry to have witnessed that scene at all let alone twenty years too late to have done anything about it. That should never have happened at Hogwarts."
Dorcas shrugged. "It's in the past. I shouldn't have been out of bed and out of bounds with Tom," she excused.
Dumbledore was aghast. "Do you defend him still?"
She didn't know if it was defense of Tom or a defense for her. Where would blame get her decades later?
"You wanted to ask me something about the memory?"
The professor adjusted his spectacles and leveled a direct gaze at Dorcas.
"I wondered about the memory you'd stumbled upon that set young Mr. Riddle off on that abusive tirade."
Dorcas offered Dumbledore a seat. She sat on the patient couch across from him.
"What about it?"
She surprised herself with the calm and measured tone she was able to affect while talking about the time that Tom Riddle beat her senseless on the Astronomy Tower when she was twelve. Could she really be so cold and detached? She reminded herself eerily of Tom in this way.
"Well, as you know, I'm collecting relevant memories concerning Tom Riddle. Piecing together various parts of his timeline. I believe the memory that you found in his mind that night was something that he didn't intend for anyone to ever see. I think it might be very vital to my research."
Dorcas shook her head and gave a direct stare back to the professor.
"Why are you collecting all of this information on Tom? You've only said that you think he might be planning something or involved in something that will have big consequences."
"Dorcas, I think Tom Riddle is radicalizing young witches and wizards into a dark league of sorts. Your experience with Steven Muybridge must have informed you just how powerful dark magical followings like those truly can be."
"Sure," Dorcas replied.
She recalled a time in school when Tom became popular, around his fifth or maybe sixth year. Dorcas cautioned him all of the time about the sorts of friends he was surrounding himself with. She'd always thought they were the ones influencing Tom. She'd never considered that it could be the reverse.
"They could be a potentially disruptive force for the peace and stability that we've fought hard to achieve in Wizarding Britain. Tom Riddle is a very capable, talented, and influential wizard."
"I haven't had any influence over Tom in a long time, sir."
Dumbledore shook his head and held up a hand against her protests. "I'm not suggesting that you exert any influence over Tom. I am asking you to remember him."
Dorcas nodded and leaned back against the couch. She concentrated on the sound of her cries, the bite of the cold night air, the chill in Tom's words.
"Do you want to wake the entire school?" young Tom said through gritted teeth.
Twelve-year-old Dorcas's screams died out immediately and young Tom threw her backward against the stone wall and stood up.
"What's wrong with you?" He spat the question with disdain.
Dorcas reached for the wand in her cardigan pocket.
"There's an empty phial in that cabinet, sir," Dorcas said as she drew the memory out through her temple.
Dumbledore stood and opened the cabinet. He handed Dorcas a receptacle for her memory.
"Do you think that little boy and girl from the orphanage are important?" Dorcas asked, blinking as her vision swam for a moment before coming back into focus. "Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop?"
"I'm not willing to rule anything out. I have overlooked too much that concerns Mr. Riddle in the past," Dumbledore said bitterly.
Dorcas knew that he meant her. He'd overlooked Tom's abuse of her.
"Have you spoken to Mrs. Cole?" Dorcas asked. "She ran the orphanage Tom lived at. Or Jenny, she was Mrs. Cole's assistant. If you want information on Tom as a boy."
Dumbledore nodded. "Mrs. Cole and Jenny have both passed away."
"Ah," Dorcas replied.
"But you have been very helpful," Dumbledore added, holding the phial up.
"Happy to help, sir."
:::
20 July, 1941 Number 19 Strattondale, Poplar
Dorcas looked at herself in the mirror behind her bedroom door. She wished that her mother hadn't left for work yet. She would have liked her opinion on the hat.
She'd followed Anneliese's direction and bought the dress with the birds on it, ivory colored espadrilles that laced up her ankles and an ivory colored sun hat.
She wasn't sure about the hat. She always found hats difficult to pull off. There was no way of looking like anything but a little girl playing dress up when she wore a hat. Her mother would have given her an honest opinion about it.
She was tempted to go and wake Betty, but resisted the urge. She needed to preserve all of Betty's goodwill for when she really needed dress and boy advice. She wouldn't waste it on a birthday tea with friends.
Casting the hat onto her bed, she grabbed her small straw clutch that she'd purchased with the shoes and dashed out of her flat and down the stairs.
Gordon the postman was rounding the corner as she left her building.
"Hi!" she trilled.
"Dorcas!" the postman said. "You look like a bright summer day!"
"Thanks! Got any post for me?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!" The round man with a walrus mustache smiled as he handed two envelopes to Dorcas.
"Thanks!" Dorcas said again, scanning the first and then the second envelope's address. She counseled herself not to get too hopeful about the post. Jack wouldn't have had any time to write to her since leaving her only four days ago.
But her stomach flipped when she saw his handwriting on one of the envelopes. She wanted to rip the letter open and absorb his words right there on the street. The postman moved past her and into the building to deliver letters to her neighbors.
Dorcas traced a loving finger over Jack's name, smiling widely. He must have written this not long after leaving her, probably the same day.
"Dorcas, Hi!" a familiar voice interrupted her private moment of exhilaration.
"Cal," Dorcas answered, her voice dimming a little as she wondered why he was in front of her building. "Hello! What are you doing here?"
Cal, dressed in a light suit, his wavy blond hair combed off of his forehead, was a tall and handsome addition to this grimy East End street.
He cast a backward glance at the fine automobile behind him on the street. "I thought you might like a ride to Anneliese's."
"Oh," Dorcas replied. She smiled at the waiting driver. "How nice of you to think of me."
Dorcas shuffled Cherry's gift, her gloves, and the letters so that she could open her bag and tuck the letters inside.
"Of course!" Cal replied with a smile of his own, opening the car door for her.
Dorcas remembered being chauffeured from Saint Joseph's in this car when Cal was nice enough to take her home after Morty fell the Christmas before last. He'd been a very faithful friend to her then.
"Hello, Parker," Dorcas said as she arranged her skirt on the plush leather seat. Cal slid in beside her as the driver closed his door, settling behind the wheel. "Do you remember me?"
The driver met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Yes, Miss Dorcas. How are you?"
"Pleasantly surprised," Dorcas said, glancing at Cal.
Cal folded his hands in his lap as Dorcas clutched at Cherry's red and gold wrapped gift. She'd momentarily hoped that she could use the train ride from Poplar to Chelsea to read Jack's letter. She could not do that now. The letter felt like a weight in the purse beside her.
"I'm very glad to see you, Dorcas," Cal said after a pause.
"I am too. You've saved my feet a breaking-in with these new shoes," Dorcas lifted her feet in front of her so that Cal could see her white shoes tied with bows around her ankles.
"Parker and I are at your service," he replied.
Dorcas swallowed hard when she caught a peek into his thoughts. He was trying to find a way to compliment her dress that didn't sound too forward. But the overall impression was that he was dumbfounded by her ability to grow prettier every time he saw her and wished that he could tell her so.
"What did you get Cherry, then?" Cal asked after clearing his throat.
"It's a surprise," Dorcas said, her gloved hands shielding the package playfully from Cal.
"We probably got her the same thing," Cal teased. His gift sat on Dorcas's other side and was a bit larger than Dorcas's. She was confident that they hadn't come up with the same gift idea.
"Okay. Say it on three?" Dorcas joked.
They counted in unison.
"A bicycle," Dorcas said while at the same moment, Cal answered, "tin whistle."
The conversation remained light and Cal never managed to arrange a compliment that he deemed good enough for Dorcas.
Anneliese's townhouse in Chelsea was a whitewashed and noble structure that faced a garden square. It was exactly the type of palace that she would have pictured the regal Anneliese growing up in.
"Thank you, Parker," Dorcas said as she handed Cal his gift and then took the hand he gallantly offered to help her out of the car.
She gathered her own gift and handbag, arranging her skirt while Cal spoke to his driver.
Then they were alone in front of Anneliese's.
"Before we go inside, I just wanted to ask if you're okay," Cal said suddenly.
Dorcas furrowed her brow. "Of course I'm okay, Cal. What are you worried about?" It was clear that something was bothering him.
He looked at the gift for Cherry that he held, straightening the violet bow.
"You," Cal answered.
"Why are you worried about me?"
"The last time I saw you, on the train home," he began.
Dorcas felt her cheeks flush red at the humiliating recollection. Cal had found her disheveled after she'd dissuaded Tom from trying to have a go with her. She'd threatened Tom with her wand. She'd never been more angry at him in her life. But he'd apologized for it. The last thing Dorcas wanted was for her schoolmates to think poorly of Tom. He'd been emotional after learning about Verity's death. He wasn't in a good mental place when he'd done it.
"Oh, yeah. It wasn't what it looked like, Cal," Dorcas tried to explain.
"Dorcas, it looked and sounded like Tom was trying to get you to do something that you didn't want to," Cal argued.
Dorcas didn't know which was worse, the assumption she'd made that Cal thought she was being free with Tom in a concealed compartment on the train with all of her schoolmates present. Or was it worse that he actually thought Tom was trying to force her? She'd almost rather Cal believe that she was a willing participant than to have him think badly of Tom. She didn't know why her first instinct was to protect Tom's reputation at the expense of hers, but she did.
"We had an argument. That's all you heard, Cal."
"You sounded scared. I almost broke in there to help you. But you opened the door at just that precise moment. I don't like the idea of Tom hurting you, Dorcas."
"He didn't and we're not together anymore. So there will be no more arguments for you to break up, okay?"
Dorcas's hopes hung on her last word, an offer for Cal to drop the whole matter so that they could both go on pretending that the scene in the train compartment hadn't happened.
"But, Dorcas–"
"Okay, Cal? That's it. I explained what happened. Tom and I are over. It's done. Okay?"
"Okay," Cal conceded.
"Good. Let's not ruin Cherry's day by you and I getting into an argument."
:::
Cherry was a conniving snake.
When Dorcas was shown into the sitting room where a luncheon had been laid out, she realized that the party would be a very intimate gathering of only six.
"Don't you two look smart together!" Cherry said, crossing the room to kiss Dorcas's cheek and then Cal's.
"Happy Birthday, Red," Cal chimed.
"Thanks!" Cherry grabbed Dorcas's and Cal's gifts, placing them on a table laid with flowers and a pile of presents.
Dorcas looked to Anneliese. "Where is everyone?"
"What do you mean? You and Cal were the last of the party to arrive. We're all here."
Her conversation with Anneliese a couple of days ago made sense now in this context. She'd been pointedly digging for information on the status of Dorcas and Tom. She'd even said that Cherry harbored a secret wish to get Dorcas together with Cal.
This was going to be an awkward afternoon.
Cherry and Darren were dating, and therefore paired off. They were examining a lavish cake arranged on a tea table by the picture window. Anneliese and Beau were another pair. She had him moving chairs and arranging place settings.
That left Dorcas and Cal.
"I'm shocked that a party for Cherry Weasley isn't wall-to-wall people," Cal observed.
"I get the feeling she wanted to keep things small," Dorcas said, gritting her teeth in annoyance.
Dorcas became hopeful when Anneliese took charge as the master of ceremony, orchestrating the luncheon, the cake cutting, and the present unveiling. Dorcas could easily avoid being thrown together intentionally with Cal, despite Cherry's obvious maneuvering.
Cherry unwrapped Anneliese's gift, the hat with the flowers and cherries. "How sweet, thanks Anne!"
She threw the hat onto the pile of torn paper and bows and moved onto the next.
Lifting Cal's present, silver paper and a violet bow, she remarked on its weight.
It wasn't a tin whistle. Cal had given Cherry a very thoughtful gift.
"Wow! It's the Holyhead Harpies!"
"Biographies of the 1916 winning season's lineup, actually. Open the front cover, Cher," Cal instructed.
"Oh Holy Hippogriff! No way!"
"What is it Cherry?" Anneliese asked, visibly annoyed that Cal's gift was receiving so much positive acclaim.
"It's signed by Callista Coleman! How did you get this?" Cherry enthused.
Cal shrugged casually, but with obvious pride. "It was in a little secondhand bookshop off Diagon Alley."
"That's a thoughtful gift, Cal," Dorcas congratulated him.
Cal beamed.
Cherry reached for Dorcas's gift. Dorcas shifted a little in her chair. Her gift wasn't as good as Cal's. Would Cherry discard it like Anneliese's? Anneliese would exchange an "I told you so" look with her that Dorcas was dreading.
When Cherry cast off the paper she was perplexed.
Beau and Cal laughed.
Dorcas slumped in her seat.
"Give it here, Cher," Cal said, holding his hand out.
Cherry gave him the lighter. Cal flicked open the nickel cap and spun the flint dial with his thumb. A flame emerged from the lighter that made Cherry gasp.
"I want to try!"
She mimicked Cal's movements. In amazement, Cherry stood, throwing her chair back. Darren caught it before it hit the floor.
"I MADE FIRE IN THE PALM OF MY HAND!" Cherry yelled, holding the flame high above her.
Anneliese harrumphed loudly and crossed her arms.
"Oh this is grand! I'm going to take up smoking like a real Hollywood film star!" Cherry exclaimed.
"Be careful with that, Cherry. Honestly, Dorcas! I don't know what you were thinking!" Anneliese chastised, throwing her napkin on the table and storming off after Cherry and her newest obsession.
"That was excellent! Brilliant gift, Dorcas!" Beau laughed and watched Anneliese rein in Cherry.
"A little help, boys?" Anneliese called over her shoulder as Cherry attempted to roll torn wrapping paper into a cigarette in order to see how glamorous she would appear when lighting it.
Beau and Darren jumped up to help convince Cherry not to smoke gift wrap.
"You are the best, d'you know that?" Cal asked Dorcas, as he laughed at Cherry while Anneliese tried to wrestle the lighter from her.
"Anneliese won't forgive me for months over this one!"
Cal shrugged. "She'll get over it. She can't stay mad at you."
Dorcas pushed cake around on her plate as an awkward lull stretched between them.
"Have you had any word about your brother? I've been thinking about him."
Cal shook his head. "No, we haven't. Still not reported dead officially. But nothing's been found to confirm otherwise. He hasn't shown up on any prisoner of war rosters."
"I'm sorry to hear that. But there's still reason to be hopeful, Cal. He could still be alive."
"You're kind to think of him, Dorcas. You're always very kind."
In his mind, Cal was thinking of his parents. Both were distraught over the unknown fate of their oldest and heir. Both were handling it badly.
"Dorcas!" Cherry said as Anneliese poured a pitcher of lemonade onto a burning pile of gift wrap, Beau and Darren patting out some remaining embers.
"I've had a marvelous idea. A game I just invented. We're going to take one of these bottles," she held up an empty soda bottle. "And we're going to sit around in a circle and spin it. When it's your turn to spin, you have to kiss the person the bottle points to. It's called The Bottle Chooses Who You'll Kiss."
"You didn't invent that. It's called Spin the Bottle, Cherry. And it could be very awkward with just six people," Dorcas pointed out.
"The odds of a boy kissing a boy or a girl kissing a girl are pretty high," Cal added.
"Are you afraid of the Bottle That Chooses, Meadowes?"
"If you're on the other end of it, Red, then yes, I am," Cal teased.
"You should be!" Cherry said. "You can't handle THIS!" and she flicked her lighter on once more.
"Dorcas!" said Anneliese. "It's either humor her little game, or watch her burn my house down."
"Fine," Dorcas said, throwing her hands up.
"Everyone form a circle here on the rug," Cherry ordered. "Darren, pick some good smooching music."
Darren complied and selected a new record for the turntable in the corner. Una Mae Carlisle's 'Now I Lay Me Down To Dream' drifted over the circle of captives for Cherry's game.
"Cherry, it's your game. You start us off," Anneliese said, grudgingly settling herself on the rug and primly arranging her skirt over her knees.
Dorcas and the others arranged themselves on the rug as well.
Cherry spun the bottle and Dorcas watched it slow to a stop between Darren and Anneliese.
Beau leaned down over the bottle to get a bird's eye view.
"Which one of you is the first victim?" Cal laughed.
"Well, not me!" Anneliese scoffed.
"It looks like it's pointing more toward Anneliese," Beau said.
"Spin again, Cherry," Anneliese replied.
"The bottle chooses, Anneliese. Do you want to mock fate?" Darren joked.
"Oh Anneliese! Don't be a prude! You think I'm pretty, don't you?" Cherry laughed and batted her eyelashes.
Dorcas found it a little funny that Cal's prediction of the bottle pairing two girls had come true. Cherry was clearly wanting to create a situation where boys and girls had an opportunity to share a peck and it had backfired.
"I'm not a prude!" Anneliese argued, clearly nettled by the characterization.
Darren and Beau shouted encouragement as Cherry leaned forward with her red lips puckered at Anneliese.
"Fine!" Anneliese capitulated and grabbed Cherry's face, planting a scandalous kiss on her lips that drove the boys to hysterics. "I'm not a prude!"
Anneliese got a turn with the bottle. It pointed toward Beau.
Anneliese leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly against Beau's.
"Aw come on! I want a kiss like you gave Cherry!" Beau protested.
Anneliese obliged and then dissolved in a fit of giggles as they all cheered for the two.
Beau's turn to spin singled Darren out for a fateful kiss. In the same spirit that the girls had embraced the game, the two boys platonically kissed one another's cheek.
"Darren, your turn, honey," Cherry laughed as Darren wiped his mouth dramatically.
Darren spun and the bottle landed on Dorcas.
Dorcas sat back on her heels. She wasn't going to kiss her friend's sweetheart. She didn't want to kiss anyone.
"Over my dead body, Darren!" Cherry cried, pointing the bottle at herself instead.
Dorcas was relieved that she wouldn't receive the same pressure to comply that Anneliese had.
Cherry and Darren exchanged a salacious kiss that was accompanied by a low whistle from Beau and a scoff from Anneliese.
"Who's better?" Cal teased. "Anneliese or Darren?"
Cherry seemed to consider both experiences for a moment.
"Anneliese."
The group laughed.
"You're darn right I am!" Anneliese confirmed, tossing her golden tresses over her shoulder.
"I kissed them both," Beau added. "And I agree!"
"Dorcas, your turn," Cherry trilled.
Dorcas sat up a little straighter. "Oh! No, I don't want a turn."
"Nonsense! It's my birthday! You have to play!"
Grudgingly, Dorcas gave a halfhearted spin of the bottle. It pointed to Darren. Dorcas threw her hands up.
"Nope!" Cherry said, turning the bottle deliberately in Cal's direction.
"Cherry! You can't choose for the bottle!" Beau protested.
"It's okay," Cal said, placing a hand over Dorcas's as it rested on the floor between them. "You don't have to."
"Yes, she does! It's the rules!" Cherry argued.
"You're making the rules up as you go, Cher!" Darren pointed out.
"Kiss!" Cherry ordered, waggling the bottle at Dorcas.
Dorcas shrugged. "I'm only humoring you because it's your birthday, Cherry."
She leaned forward. Cal placed a finger gently beneath her chin, tipping her face toward his. Dorcas felt her heart racing. The sound of it in her ears drown out the tune of the record and the encouraging calls from her friends.
Dorcas braced herself for Cal's kiss, wondering how it would feel. Wondering how it would compare to Jack's lips on hers.
At the last moment, Cal switched course, pressing his lips lightly to her cheek.
The disappointed cries of their friends were loud in her ears.
Dorcas laughed as Cherry's dashed hopes of pushing her and Cal together were denied.
"Shall we call it a day, Cherry?" Anneliese asked.
Dorcas knew Anneliese wanted to clean up the mess that Cherry had made and prevent any more catastrophes from arising.
"No! We're just getting started!" Cherry pouted.
"We could go out on the town somewhere," Cal offered, intuiting Anneliese's eagerness to spare her home from Cherry's destructive whims.
"Ooh! How about the cinella?" Cherry asked, eyes wide in anticipation of a Muggle outing.
Cal gave a startled laugh. "I don't know what that is!"
"You know! Where you see pictures? Darren and I have never seen a Muggle film."
"The cinema, Cherry," Dorcas pronounced slowly.
"I want to go to the ci-ne-ma, please!" Cherry mimicked Dorcas's pronunciation.
Anneliese hopped lightly up from the rug. "The nearest theater is about five blocks from here. I'll grab the paper and see what's playing."
"My driver can take us," Cal offered pleasantly.
"Oh! What's a driver?" Cherry asked, her interest piqued.
"He drives the car," Cal explained.
Cherry's eyes appeared as if they were going to pop out of her head as she leaned across the Spin the Bottle circle and grabbed Cal's jacket lapels.
"YOU HAVE A CAR, MEADOWES?"
Cherry became uncontrollably excited. "Oh! This is the best birthday ever!"
She shot up from the rug and ran for the door, grabbing the door's frame to help her carreen around the corner.
"Poor Parker is going to be mauled," Dorcas laughed.
Cal was laughing too but stopped suddenly, realizing that this was probably true. He stood and followed Cherry from the room along with Darren and Beau.
Dorcas gathered Cherry's and Anneliese's handbags as well as her own.
"There's 'Rebecca' or 'The Great Dictator' playing at the Harmonia," Anneliese said, entering the room with the newspaper before her. When she dropped it, she tisked to find the room nearly empty.
"I've wanted to see 'Rebecca'," Dorcas offered. "I like Lawrence Olivier."
Anneliese winked. "Me too!"
Downstairs, Cherry was under the bonnet of Parker's car, the driver hovering nervously next to her.
"What's playing?" Beau asked.
"We have a choice between 'Rebecca' or 'The Great Dictator'." Anneliese recited.
"Chaplin!" Beau said, raising his hand in a vote.
"Chaplin!" Cal mimicked Beau.
Daren looked between his two friends. Cal winked encouragingly while Beau mouthed "Chaplin" at Darren.
"I don't know what that is," Darren hedged nervously.
"Olivier!" Anneliese said petulantly. Dorcas did likewise with a stomp of her foot for emphasis.
"Vote with the blokes, Darren. You don't want to see the sappy girly film," Beau directed.
"Okay, Chaplin," Darren said.
"We can see the one we want, and you boys can see the stupid one," Anneliese compromised.
Dorcas went for the weak link.
"Beau, wouldn't you rather see the film Anneliese wants to see? And during the romantic parts, you could hold her hand? And when she gets chilly you could put an arm around her?"
She smiled enticingly.
"Or do you want to go see the idiot flick with your mates? I'm sure it'll be just as romantic holding Cal's hand." Dorcas batted her lashes in an impression of Cherry.
"You make a convincing argument, Clerey! I'm changing my vote!" Beau said, coming to stand with the girls on the 'Rebecca' side.
"Too bad none of this campaigning counts," Cal said. "The birthday girl chooses the film."
He pulled a distracted Cherry from under the bonnet of the car, to Parker's obvious relief.
"Cherry, do you want to see a long and boring film about a man who's haunted by his dead wife?"
He shook his head, giving leading cues as he did.
"Or, do you want to see a hysterical comedy starring the funniest comedian alive?"
He nodded yes as he described his own preference.
"I want to see the funny one," Cherry decided.
Anneliese's and Dorcas's hands dropped in defeat.
"Sorry, ladies. You'll have to swoon over Olivier another time," Cal said, winking to rub his victory in.
Cherry insisted on riding up front with Parker, Darren insisted on sitting in the front to keep an eye on Cherry.
Dorcas thought Cherry would have ridden in Parker's lap if she could.
"Hey Parker," Cherry said, donning Parker's driver's uniform cap.
"Yes, Miss," Parker said, his tone a little harried.
"Want to see magic?"
Dorcas and the three in the back seat stiffened.
"Cherry, no!" Anneliese cautioned.
Cherry pulled out her lighter and flicked it on. "BAM! FIRE!"
Parker laughed. "Very good, Miss!"
They all deflated in relief.
"I thought she might do something to the car," Beau laughed.
Cal sighed. "Or scare the jeepers out of Parker with real magic," he said under his breath to Dorcas.
Dorcas patted his knee comfortingly. "Darren will keep her in check."
"I wouldn't be too sure," Cal argued.
Filing into the theater, Dorcas found herself between Cherry and Anneliese, relieved not to have been forced by Cherry into another silly situation with Cal.
"Do you feel a draft right here?" Cherry turned to her and asked.
Dorcas shooshed Cherry as the Newsreels began to play. "It's impolite to talk over the film."
"Take my jacket, sweetheart," Darren said, shrugging out of his suit coat.
Dorcas watched the grim updates on the war, wishing that she didn't have to see them before a lighthearted, funny film. It made her think about Jack and the violence he was willingly walking into.
She clutched at her purse, remembering his letter inside. She wished she could find a concealed corner away from everyone and read it this instant.
"No, it's no good. I'm still too cold," Cherry insisted. "Cal, switch seats with me."
Dorcas rolled her eyes.
"Cherry," Cal began to argue.
"Switch with me, Meadowes!"
A woman two rows in front of them turned to shush Cherry.
"Oh you shush! I'll hex you, hag!" Cherry challenged the stranger.
"Cal," Dorcas whispered, leaning over Cherry and Darren. "Just do it. She won't stop until she gets her way."
Cherry grinned. "See, Dorcas wants you to sit next to her anyway!"
Cal complied, shuffling between Cherry's and Darren's knees and the backs of the seats in front of them. He apologized to some moviegoers behind him for standing and blocking their view.
Dorcas patted his arm in thanks for his humoring Cherry's obvious machinations.
Despite her annoyance at Cherry and her wish to be alone with Jack's letter, Dorcas found herself laughing along with her friends at Charlie Chaplin's fake German speech.
"Did he just say wienerschnitzel and sauerkraut?" Dorcas whispered.
Cal nodded and laughed.
Dorcas might have to concede that this was a more entertaining choice than the Hitchcock film.
"Oh! I love a man in uniform!" Cherry sighed.
Cal choked. "Not that man and not that uniform, Cher!"
Dorcas stopped laughing when the fake Nazis began to terrorize the ghetto and bust shop windows. It was too close to reality to be funny. She realized she didn't want to watch an American film that poked fun at real struggles. Struggles that other countries had no choice but to face.
She turned to Anneliese.
"Excuse me. I need to visit the ladies'," she lied.
Dorcas ducked out of the theater and into the lobby. Finding a secluded couch near the ladies restroom, Dorcas decided to wait for the film to end out here in solitude. She opened the letter she was eager to read.
Jack had addressed the envelope to Dorcas, but when she opened it, the letter began:
Dearest Daisy Smith,
Dorcas smiled. He would never let her forget how they met on a total charade.
I am writing to you from the train station. I have only been away from your side for thirty-two minutes and it feels like it's been thirty-two years. I am thinking of all of the wonderful things you showed me last night. I imagine that a life with you in it will have no shortage of enchantment. You have opened my eyes to worlds that I never dreamed existed.
I will remember the way that you felt in my arms, how sweet you looked with your tangled hair falling across your shoulders. The way you kissed me and wouldn't let me leave. You nearly convinced me to climb back under the sheets beside you. You'll never know how close you came to eroding my will.
The only thing that made me open that door and leave was knowing that when I left, I was going to fight for you, to make the world you live in a more secure place. You and I will be able to have a good life together when all of this is over. And it will be a life where you are safe and no one will threaten to drop bombs on the city you live in. You are what I'm fighting for. You and our future.
A photographer was at the station taking photos of the soldiers so they could send them to their loved ones. I'm including the one he snapped of me in this letter. I don't have anyone else to give it to; no one else I want to give it to. If you have time and if it's not too much trouble, could you send me one of you? I'll keep it with me always, in the pocket close to my heart.
You are my lucky charm, my talisman, my guardian angel.
I am yours, your shield, your devoted servant, your most ardent admirer,
Jack
The small photograph that was included with the letter captured him as she'd last seen him, leaving her to head to the train station.
The black and white photo did not lack dimension. The grayscale actually enhanced the depths of his eyes, the force of his gaze. His smile was open and bright. Dorcas knew that it was a smile that played about his lips as he thought of her. His wavy brown hair, combed and parted to one side looked so soft, Dorcas could imagine running her fingers through it.
As she stared at the photograph, she remembered seeing his face long before she knew him. It wasn't the similarities he shared with Tom, though they were always striking.
No, she'd looked into a mirror at Hogwarts that sat in an abandoned classroom. She assumed she was seeing an older version of Tom reflected in the glass next to her along with a small girl. Dorcas remembered being disheartened at the reflection, not because she was disappointed in what the mirror showed her, but that Tom did not share the same vision.
He'd seen a long and powerful wizarding line stretching out before him when he gazed into the enchanted mirror. She supposed she should be happy for him, he'd gotten what he wanted, after all.
But she had a sinking feeling realizing that her dream was to be with Tom and to have a family. While his dream was to realize his connection to powerful magic.
Now, she understood that her dream reflected a face very similar to Tom's, but one she hadn't met yet. She was excited to learn that the mirror made a prediction about her future, one that she longed to one day make a reality.
She read a line in his letter again:
You are what I'm fighting for. You and our future.
So he wanted to be with her too. She wondered what a future with her looked like in his mind. Maybe she would be bold enough to ask him about it in her letter. She planned to write one when she got home.
Her leg bounced impatiently. She wanted the dumb film to end already.
"Hey," Cal said, rounding a corner, clearly searching for her.
"Hey," Dorcas answered, folding the letter and placing it and Jack's picture back into her purse.
"Cherry sent me out here to find you," he explained.
Dorcas held her arms out. "Here I am. You can tell her you found me."
Cal placed his hands in his trouser pockets.
"If it's okay with you, I'd rather skip the rest of the movie," he replied.
Dorcas moved down the couch a little to allow Cal to sit beside her.
He sat, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. He stared at her shoes. Dorcas read his distracted thoughts. Out of the jumble of emotions and reactions in Cal's mind, his eyes studied her toes as they peeped out of the opening of her sandals. He traced the laces as they wound around her small ankles, terminating in pretty bows. The study of these meaningless details had the effect of ordering his thoughts. Dorcas was enthralled with the mental process.
"Was the stitch in your side becoming too painful with all of the laughter?" Dorcas said, trying to lighten his mood.
"I like his earlier stuff. The silent stuff. But this film seemed a little…" he struggled to find the right words.
"Tone deaf?" Dorcas supplied.
"Exactly."
"It's incredibly crass for an American film to treat real events like such a joke, but maintain neutrality in the face of obvious evil like that."
"Well," Cal offered. "It's free speech. Chaplin's an artist and can make a satirical critique of events if he likes. It's not like the US government produced the film."
"It just seems like good people–good countries–are not standing up to all of this. It feels like we're all alone in the world sometimes, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does," Cal agreed.
:::
30 November, 1958 Rackharrow Hall, Berkeley Gardens, Kensington
"So, it was an accident, really," Dorcas explained to Cherry. "Cal didn't mean for Anneliese to find out about the potions or drugs or whatever you want to call them. He just needed someone to talk to."
"I'm so sorry, Dorcas," Cherry replied, taking her friend's hand as they strolled along the sidewalk next to a picturesque walled garden. "I had no idea that you were struggling so much. And the idea that Cal was cheating on you?"
Cherry inhaled for effect.
"I don't know what I would have done in your situation. You could have called me. I'm always happy to talk you down off of a ledge. Merlin knows you're constantly pulling me down from one or another."
"Cherry," said Dorcas as she stopped walking.
Cherry was brought up short and turned to look at Dorcas. Cherry could be silly and flighty and over the top. Dorcas loved that about her. But Cherry was also fiercely loyal and always on Dorcas's side in everything.
"What is it, honey?"
"There is something that I haven't been able to tell anyone," Dorcas began. Her heart raced and her head swam with the enormity of what she wanted to confess to Cherry.
Cherry was a true and loyal friend to her. But she was also close to Cal. As close as a sister.
"You can tell me anything, honey," Cherry encouraged, rubbing Dorcas's back. "Here. Sit down," she said, leading Dorcas to a nearby bench.
"Well, on Cal's birthday, I made him a big dinner to celebrate and he didn't come home. It upset me. I thought he was cheating on me and that he was going to leave me. Tom came over to give me Muybridge's address like I asked…"
There was a drawn out silence as Dorcas tried to arrange the details in her mind.
"Yes, Tom came over and?" Cherry prompted.
Dorcas felt as if she couldn't suck in enough air. Her lungs did not seem capable of sending oxygen to her brain. Her vision danced with stars.
"I kissed him, Cherry," Dorcas confessed.
Cherry blinked. "Define kiss. He gave you Muybridge and you said "Thank You!" and–" she leaned over and pecked Dorcas on the cheek.
Dorcas looked down at her gloved hand in Cherry's. She shook her head.
"No. It was a full-on, down-and-dirty kiss. There was tongue for sure. His hands were under my nightgown." Dorcas released Cherry's hand and clapped both gloves over her face.
"Oh my God!" Cherry said. She jumped up from the bench beside Dorcas. "Oh my, GOD! OH MY GOD!"
"Stop saying that!" cried Dorcas, pulling her friend back down onto the bench.
Passersby were staring at them curiously.
"Wait. His hands were under your nightgown?"
Dorcas closed her eyes in humiliation.
"I was wearing something special for Cal. IT WAS HIS BIRTHDAY!" Dorcas shouted as Cherry's eyes bulged at her accusingly.
Cherry's mouth hung open and she continued to shake her head.
"This is going to kill Cal," Cherry said.
"I know," Dorcas agreed.
"It could have been anyone else, Dorcas. Cal would have tried his hardest to get past it. But not Tom."
Dorcas nodded miserably. Cherry only confirmed everything Dorcas already knew.
:::
Dorcas climbed the steps to Gemma's townhouse, Rackharrow Hall. Cherry stood beside her, distracted by Dorcas's confession. She kept muttering "Oh My God" under her breath.
Dorcas raised her fist to knock but the door opened before she'd made contact.
"Birdie," Tom said, surprised.
Dorcas dropped her fist.
"Oh My God!" Cherry said, dropping down to the top step and sitting hard.
"You have quite the effect on women, babe," Gemma observed as Tom shrugged into his coat.
He'd clearly been about to leave when Dorcas and Cherry arrived on the doorstep.
"Babe?" Dorcas asked, sneering. "What happened to "My Lord", Gemma?" she laughed, unable to resist antagonizing her cousin because the unexpected presence of Tom put her on edge.
"We only use that one in private now," Tom smirked, winking at Dorcas.
Dorcas felt nauseated.
Tom stepped into her personal space, turning to kiss Gemma. The kiss was long and lingering.
Cherry gagged from somewhere below on the stoop.
"I'll leave you to your company, Gem," he said, pushing past Dorcas and sidestepping Cherry. "Goodbye, ladies."
Dorcas resisted the urge to watch him go.
"Hey, girlfriends!" Gemma said, all mock sweetness. "How can I help?"
