Sunday 9th April

For the first time since he'd arrived in Oxford, Craig woke feeling guilty. He'd probably begun feeling this way a couple of days ago, but it was only now that he knew he couldn't ignore the impulse any longer. He was a US Army officer, and he had a team of men who depended on him. Finally, he felt sharp and ready to face... whatever life was about to throw at him. The demons were finally banished, and he was ready to return to the war

He glanced at his wrist, where the military watch still sat. 7:30 the hands indicated. At his side, Jan slept deeply, her blonde hair cascading loosely across the pillow.
Light was filtering gently through the curtains... they must have been careless when they set the blackouts the previous night.

The movement of the man alongside her brought Jan awake, but she lay quietly for a moment, reluctant to disturb the peace that she felt. She knew instinctively that Craig would be leaving. She could have felt rejected, but oddly she didn't, just lucky that this man was part of her life - and now she had a far better understanding of what motivated him.

"When will you leave?"

"This afternoon, probably. I'll call Richards after breakfast and tell him I'm ready to pick up the reins again." iIf I still have a job to go back to/i, he thought. Instinctively, he knew he would have. If anything had gone seriously wrong in the last two weeks, he was certain either Actor or Will would have got in touch.

"In that case, I'd better make sure the condemned man has a hearty breakfast." Jan threw back the covers and reached for her dressing gown.

GGG

Tracking down Richards proved more difficult than Garrison had anticipated. He could have just left a message, but even though his secret was now out, he had no intention of making his whereabouts common knowledge. The church clocks were striking midday before he finally managed to speak to the Major.

Richards had been enjoying some rare down-time of his own that morning. He'd attended morning service with his wife and was just starting mowing the lawn to fill the gap until Sunday lunch was served, when the telephone rang.

"Kevin, one of your aides for you," his wife called from the kitchen door, semaphoring a 'telephone' signal with her hands.

The conversation with the aide was short. "Major, Lieutenant Garrison's trying to find you. Wouldn't tell me where he was calling from, but says he'll phone back in half an hour. Shall I tell him where to find you?"

"Tell him I'm at home. He knows the number." Gruffly, Richards replaced the receiver and took two paces towards the kitchen and his discarded wellingtons before the telephone rang again. Too soon for it to be Garrison, he surmised, as he picked up the receiver again. "Richards."

He was right, it wasn't the American officer. The voice on the other end of the line was female, brusque - and one he knew well. "Kevin, we've just heard from Naval HQ. That submarine that was sent to pick up your men has put out a distress call... attacked by a German aircraft somewhere north of Jersey... significant damage with several casualties. No other details as yet, but I'll let you know if we hear anything more."

The phone went dead before he had the opportunity to ask any questions.

The Major abandoned any thoughts of lawn mowers, at least until he'd spoken to Garrison.

It was twenty minutes later when the telephone rang again and this time it was the Lieutenant.

"'Bout time, Lieutenant." Richards tried to keep any emotion out of his voice. Half an hour ago he'd been feeling pleased that things had worked out for the best. Garrison had been given the respite he needed, and his team had been protected from those members of Allied Intelligence that wanted nothing more than to prove they'd been right all along over what an ill-advised scheme utilising convicts in war work had been.

"Major?" The Lieutenant was puzzled by the tone of the Commando's voice. His memories of the London debriefing were vague, but he was as sure as he could be that when he'd boarded the train for Oxford there had been no time limit on his return. There was silence on the other end of the line. "What's happened?" he prompted.

"Your men were on their way home from France," Richards finally answered. "They were picked up from a beach near Nantes last night, but their submarine was attacked this morning in the Western Approaches. We're waiting to hear more." The Commando took a breath, acknowledging his own feeling of impotence.

"There's not anything either of us can do at the moment," he continued, "so you might as well stay where you are for the rest of the day." Richards paused. "I assume Sergeant Major Fletcher knows how to get hold of you, if required?" It was a guess on the Major's part, but a shrewd one.

"Yes..." Garrison's voice was hesitant, finally recognising how he'd ended up in Oxford. It wasn't surprising. Actor. Fletcher wouldn't have stood a chance against the conman when he was on a 'mission'.

"Well, If you don't hear anything before, get back to base first thing tomorrow morning." The major broke the connection and stared at the instrument, thinking.

In Oxford, Garrison too replaced the receiver and looked up to see Jan looking down at him in concern.

"Problem?"

He nodded. Things were now taking a very different turn from what he'd expected ten minutes earlier. "Sounds like my men were given a job to do while I was away," he started slowly, "but they ran into some difficulties on the way home."

"I'll pack your things." Jan turned away, but he caught her hand.

Garrison shook his head. "Richards said to leave it 'til morning. There's nothing any of us can do for now, except wait." Waiting wasn't something he did well, the Lieutenant acknowledged. Probably the Major was right to tell him to sit tight and not go charging off across the country. He kissed the outstretched fingers. "How about we have a final picnic?"

Jan smiled. "Egg and cress sandwiches with ginger beer?" She headed for the kitchen, leaving Craig to stare blindly out at the street below.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt, again, the small box sitting there. He'd spotted the ring in a second-hand shop, earlier in the week, while he'd been delivering a parcel of books. It was a delicate band, with the gold twisting around two small diamonds, in an infinity symbol. On a whim, he'd gone into the shop and spent a pleasant few minutes negotiating a sum that was acceptable to both parties.

GGG

Jan did not accompany him to the station when he finally left the next morning. Not only was there no need... it didn't feel right.

He'd picked up his hat and put it firmly in place on his head, then stepped out onto the pavement.

From the shop doorway, Jan had watched as the mackintosh-clad Lieutenant strode his way down the street, suitcase in hand, until he disappeared from sight. Slowly, she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. Craig's civilian clothes would be returned to the pine chest. With luck, he would return to wear them again.

She looked down at her left hand, where an unaccustomed feeling reminded her that there was something there that hadn't been there the previous morning.

They'd taken their picnic to the park by the river and sat watching Mallards float by on the strong current. She'd barely noticed as Craig had taken a small, green leather box out of his pocket and held it out for inspection.

Jan had looked at him in puzzlement.

"I'd meant to keep this until the war was over, but now feels like the right time." He'd flipped open the lid to reveal the contents. "I hope you're not going to say 'no'?"

"No..."

For a moment, Craig had looked concerned.

"... No, I'm not going to say 'no'...," Jan clarified, "if this is what I think it is?" Tentatively, Jan had picked up the ring and looked at it.

"There's a war to win first but, if I make it through, I'm hoping you'll be coming home with me as Mrs Craig Garrison." He took the ring from her fingertips and slid it onto her left hand. It had been a good fit and suited her perfectly, as he'd thought it would.

Jan took a deep breath, trying to ignore how empty the apartment felt. Life would go on. In the meantime, she had a business to resurrect...