After "sleeping" with Winters, Robin grabbed her things and quietly walked down the stairs, hoping to avoid being spotted. However, the dining-room door was wide open, and Speirs caught her in the act. When his face dropped, Lipton, Welsh, and Nixon followed his slightly disturbed expression, only to snigger and laugh. Not seeing the use in hiding anymore, Robin sat on the bottom step and put on her boots. The men didn't make any further comments and got back to their game of pocket – Nixon, however, looked a little preoccupied. Once Robin had tied up her laces, she rose to her feet and left the house. Seconds later, Nixon appeared behind her. It was pouring with rain, and she planned on running across the road but changed her mind when seeing Nixon marching up the street. Worried, she quickly followed after him. Standing outside of a liquor store, Nixon tried to open the door, but it was locked. So, he grabbed a metal bin and smashed the window before casually stepping inside. Robin could only stare, shocked by the whole thing. After a few moments, Nixon walked back out of the store empty-handed. The store owner in the flat above started yelling out of his window and a group of MPs raced to the sound of destruction. Nixon paid no mind and marched on up the street. Robin didn't think it was a good idea to leave him and decided to follow her fiancé's best friend.
"You 'gonna smash another window, then?"
Nixon stopped and turned around to face her. "Go back, Bowie. It's raining".
"Like fuck 'am leaving you, sir". She said. "Listen, you're not 'gonna find what you're looking for here".
"How do you know what I'm looking for?"
"That Vat-69 stuff you drink". Robin said. "It's not 'gonna be in Germany".
Interested now, he took a step towards her. "Where is it?"
She frowned. "Is it really that important?"
"Yes". He replied instantly.
"Well, Vest might be able to help, sir". Robin offered quietly. "If you've got a pal in England, they could send it up to 'ye if Vest can't help, sir".
He nodded. "Fine". Nixon grumbled. "I'll see Vest tomorrow".
Giving him a kind smile, she said. "Will you be going back now, sir? Couldn't forgive myself if 'a left you out here in this state".
"What state?" He snorted. "I'm fine, Bowie".
"Well, just…play along, eh?" She asked lightly. "Go and annoy Winters. He's still up".
It was no secret to Robin that Nixon had an alcohol problem. Winters hadn't seen much of his friend sober; he suspected the alcohol problem came before the war. She hated that her fiancés' friend suffered. Nixon was a good guy and flawed like the rest of them. Watching him walk back down the street, Robin then crossed the road and started heading back to her billet. Her uniform was getting drenched with the downpour of heavy rain. Naturally, her pace quickened. When she entered the house, Robin took off her sodden coat and boots before rushing into the sitting room to sit by the fire. Martin and Perconte were still awake, but Luz had gone to bed. The eggs didn't sit right in his stomach, causing him to feel sick.
"Told you those eggs were off". She mumbled.
Martin chuckled quietly. "Don't be smart 'bout it, kid. Luz is feeling pretty shit".
"Aye, no wonder".
"You're soaked". Perconte noted. "Want something hot to drink? I could make you tea with honey".
Frowning, she looked over her shoulder to stare at him. "Are 'ye 'gonna poison it?"
He grinned. "You want me to?"
"Nope".
"Then I'll just make you tea and honey, kid".
When Perconte upped and left, Martin informed her. "We're leaving tomorrow".
"Where're we going?"
"No idea". He sighed. "Not Berlin".
Robin faced the fire again and hovered her hands by the flame. "I don't care 'bout Berlin. Just hope the next place is braw like here".
"Sure it will be". Martin said. "It'll probably still be quiet too".
"Nixon got demoted to Battalion Staff". She informed Martin. "He's working with Winters again".
"He'll probably prefer that". He smiled. "Is Nixon 'gonna be his best man?"
"Aye, he is".
"And does Winters know I'm walking you down the aisle?"
She nodded. "Speirs does as well".
Martin smirked. "He's not 'gonna shoot me for the position, is he?"
Robin chuckled quietly. "Nah, you're safe, Johnny". The fire crackled and warmed her up inside when she thought of the fire in Glencoe inside the cabin, or a fire they created during a field exercise. She had a lot of fond memories with her friends and Winters around a fire. If she sat and thought about them, Robin would only end up crying. Eyes burning from the heat, she lowered them and thought about leaving but remembered Perconte was making her tea with honey – that man was always so kind. And he didn't just bring her tea, he wrapped a dry and thick blanket over her shoulders too. "Thanks, Perco". She said softly, smiling into the warmth. He clapped her shoulder.
"You're welcome, Bowie". He said. "Don't want you getting sick".
Robin was about to respond but was cut off by a sudden knock at the front door. The three of them frowned before Martin got up to answer it. Robin turned around towards the sitting room door and waited until the Staff Sergeant returned, with a letter in his hand. Smiling a little, he handed it to Robin. "It's for you, kid". She frowned and stared at the envelope, not recognising the handwriting. Martin and Perconte sat back down on the couch while Robin opened the envelope and brought out a short letter.
"Dear Miss Bowie,
It gives us such regret to inform you of your father, Gary Bowie, passing, which happened on the fifteenth of March, 1945. Mr Bowie fell victim to a very sudden heart attack, which immediately ended his life. Paramedics were called to his home but were unable to save his life. Mr Bowie's funeral was held shortly after his death, he was survived by his wife and daughter. Please accept our deepest sympathies, Miss Bowie. News like this should never be told over a letter but as you are still overseas, we had no other choice.
Kind regards;
Glasgow Royal Infirmary".
Her eyes were glued to the words written down on the small piece of paper. She read over the same words countless of times until her head started to hurt. Giving her forehead a rub, Robin let out a long breath and closed her eyes. The two men behind her frowned and watched as her head bowed – it was clear to them; it wasn't good news. She felt horrible. What Gary kept from her was wrong, but he was still a decent father and did his best to give her a good childhood. When she last saw him, they didn't exactly leave on good terms. He died of a heart attack; Robin wondered if she had broken his heart before it happened. Opening her eyes, Robin pursed her lips and tossed the letter into the fire. She didn't want to read it over again; it was only a painful reminder of how they left things when they last saw each other in Glencoe. Clearing her throat, she rose to her feet. "Going to bed". She mumbled to her friends.
Martin frowned. "Are you alright?"
"Fine". Robin whispered. "Just tired. See you's in the morning".
…
After a fitful nights' sleep, Robin woke up her squad the next morning and had them all getting packed and ready to move out. It seemed Robin wasn't the only person to receive bad news – Nixon had no trouble exclaiming that his wife wanted a divorce and was taking the dog. She minded her squad to keep out of Nixon's business and ordered them to place their gear and bags into the backs of open-roofed trucks. The rain had stopped, and the sun was out. It was warm. She didn't miss the cold. Throwing her bag and rifle into a jeep, she overheard Speirs inform Perconte and a few others that they were on route to Bavaria, where the brass believed die-hard Hitler boys were flooding into that area to set-up a redoubt, a strongpoint, a last stand – or whatever. The journey would be long and tiresome, but the men were used to long journeys by now and didn't see the point in complaining. When Speirs headed over to his jeep, he was a little surprised to find Robin standing there. Shrugging, she told him quietly.
"Don't feel well, can 'a sit with you?"
He nodded to the back of his jeep. "Get in. More's driving".
Climbing into the back of the jeep, Speirs sat down next to her. Alton More soon got into the driver's seat and turned on the engine. Following behind a truck, they moved swiftly along the road. Men started to sing around her, the same songs they had all learned during training. She was surprised to hear her brother sing and Speirs gave her a nudge, hoping she'd join in, but Robin remained silent. With a roll of his eyes, he said.
"You really must be sick. What's wrong with you?"
Robin decided to use Luz as an excuse. "George made some bad eggs yesterday".
"Don't puke in my jeep".
"Not 'gonna".
"Good". Speirs smirked. "Did you talk to Janovec?"
"Aye, 'a did". She mumbled. "He's not 'gonna be doing that again".
"Did you give him hell?"
"I gave him a telling off".
"What about your other boy, O'Keefe?" Speirs asked. "Is he settling in?"
"He's fine". She replied softly. "I like Paddy".
"You're on nickname terms? God help you, Robin…". He joked. "If anything happens to him, you're 'gonna kick yourself".
Robin looked up at her brother. "I will not". She murmured. "I'd be glad to have been pals with him, sir. He's a good kid". Robin blinked and looked away from her brother – she sounded too passionate because she was thinking of her dad and how things could have been better between them. She vowed to never take any relationship for granted. It was too late with her dad, and she had learned a painful lesson from that. Reaching into her pocket, Robin made to grab a packet of smokes to offer one to Speirs, but her fingers brushed against something else – something she had almost forgotten about. Bringing the item out, she was soon staring at the small white Edelweiss Blithe had given to her after he got hit in Normandy. The flower was dry, but it didn't look dead, surprisingly. With a tiny smile, Robin pocketed the flower again before taking out the cigarettes, she handed one to her brother.
"Thanks". He mumbled.
"My dad died". Robin told him.
Speirs looked at her, shocked. After a short pause, he told her. "I'm sorry".
She shook her head. "It's fine". Robin mumbled softly. "Well, it's not but…what can you do, eh?"
"You don't seem…sad".
She shrugged. "Don't really feel anything". She said. "Is that bad?"
"I don't think so". Speirs said quietly. "Maybe it's still sinking in".
"Maybe". Robin really wasn't sure. And because she wasn't sure, Robin changed the topic. "Lads are talking 'bout what they're 'gonna do after the war".
"Makes a difference". He said. "I don't plan on leaving".
She frowned at him. "Leaving what?"
"The army". Speirs explained. "I want to make a career out of it".
"Why the fuck do you 'wanna do that?"
"I like my job".
She huffed. "You're the first person in Easy that's told me that".
He smirked a little. "Well, I like it". He said. "I've always liked being in the army".
Frown softening, Robin faced the front again. "I get it. It's 'no for me but…I get it".
"Yeah, thanks". Speirs mumbled. "What about you? What do you 'wanna do?"
"I 'wanna get my high school diploma and go to college". She told him quietly. "I 'wanna work with animals. Maybe be a vet or something".
"I like that idea for you". He approved. "Doesn't Winters 'wanna live on a farm as well?"
"Aye, he's got a down payment on a bit of land. We're 'gonna live there one day".
They drove straight into the night and decided to stop for a rest in a small village. Speirs had the task of finding houses for his men to sleep in for the night. Webster and Liebgott helped Speirs by translating for him. After such a long journey, it was a lengthy process but after thirty or so minutes of waiting, they finally had somewhere to sleep. Easy were billeted into a modern apartment building. Placing her squad into one apartment, Robin went off to find Martin and the rest of the Sergeants from 1st Platoon. It wasn't as spacious as their previous home, but it was fine for one night. She shared a room with Bull that night, who was already fast asleep by the time she arrived. Robin slipped off her boots, trousers, and jacket before getting into bed. She lay there quietly for ten or so minutes until getting up again. Her stomach ached, Robin didn't know if she was hungry or sick. And the ache was keeping her from sleeping, she had to sort it out. Very quietly, she entered the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets and cool box for something to eat. Closing the cool box door, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Martin standing there.
"What're you doing?" He whispered. "You should be sleeping, kid".
"Think 'am hungry or something". Robin mumbled. "Bodies making up for lost time, eh?"
Martin smiled. "Alright, sit down. What do you feel like?"
Pulling out a chair, Robin sat down at the table. "Something sweet". She said. "They got any of that chocolate spread?"
He turned on the oil lamp and searched the top cabinets. "Ah – they do. You want some bread to go with it?"
She shook her head. "Nah, just give me a spoon, Johnny".
Grinning, he pulled out the drawer and found Robin a tablespoon. Setting the spread and spoon in front of her, Martin sat down at the table. "Is this your monthly?" He asked. "Only, Pat eats a shit ton of ice cream when she's on the rag".
"Nah, don't think so". Robin replied lightly. "Just fancied some chocolate". Twisting off the cap, Robin dug the spoon into the spread and took a large serving. Savoring the taste in her mouth, she nodded. "This is good".
He smiled. "Just what the doc ordered, huh?"
"Aye, this is the cat's pyjamas".
Martin chuckled quietly. "If you say so". Chuckle dying on his lips, he asked her. "Are you okay, kid? You didn't look it last night, is all".
Robin sighed quietly. "Dad died".
He frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry".
"It's alright". She said softly. "'Am handling it".
"Let me know if you're not". Martin said to her.
She raised her eyes to look at him. "Cheers, Johnny". With a tiny smile, she said. "Think 'am 'gonna take this in bed".
He smirked. "Oh, Christ. Well, don't get it on the Kraut sheets, huh?"
"Nah, I won't". Robin chuckled softly. "Night, Johnny".
"Goodnight, kid".