A/N: Since I condensed what would have been several chapters I hope this isn't too choppy. While I shortened the story, the ending is what I had always planned. In this perilous time I hope you and your loved ones stay safe and healthy.
April 1921, part 2
On the threshold of the balcony Sybil stopped, her mind still wandering back to these past few months, unsure of why this morning she was thinking of how she came to be here. Yet she couldn't help think how one seemingly small act, meeting Victoria for lunch, could have such a profound effect not only on her life but on those she loved so deeply. That day had been cold and grey so typical of Dublin in January, and that morning had begun like most of those that had come before and she had no inkling that when that day ended she'd be …
January
Leaning against the booth's high leather back Sybil savored the finely brewed tea. "This has been such a treat for me." Setting her tea cup on the table she was suddenly gripped with a pang of guilt for she knew Tom's lunch was broth with bits of carrots and potatoes. Much to her relief the wound on his shoulder had finally healed but he was so weak and his cough still persisted and she feared that it might yet evolve into pneumonia. If only she had access to better food but there were so many food shortages these days and she'd soon use the last of the fruits and vegetables that Mrs. Branson had canned.
Sensing her friend's mixed emotions, Victoria reached her hand across the table and clasped Sybil's hand. "You deserve a bit of time for yourself. You've been through so much these past few months. You-" the sounds of glass breaking and a scream interrupted Victoria. She craned her neck to look towards the front of the cafe to see what was happening but her view was obstructed by a partial wall and by other customers standing up while others began running towards the café's front door.
"Whatever is going on?" she murmured. "Oh my God Sybil I think someone has" her words drowned out by the sounds of chairs falling and people screaming as smoke began clouding the air.
"Come with me" through the din a man's calm voice drew Victoria's attention. Standing beside their table, he looked vaguely familiar as his hand reached for Sybil and then he nodded at Victoria who also quickly stood up. Instead of following the other diners towards the front of the cafe, he led them towards the back of the café and into a narrow hallway.
In the clearer air of the narrow hallway it suddenly dawned on her that the man was Sybil's brother-in-law Cillian whom she had first met when she brought Twig to meet with Sybil at Claudette's. Since then they had met a couple of times when she visited Sybil's flat and Victoria felt her cheeks blush as she remembered finding him quite charming and attractive with a roguish smile but here in this hallway that beguiling smile was absent replaced by an unexpected seriousness.
"Whatever are you-" Victoria began but Cillian ignored her as he turned and opened the door. Standing in the doorway he leaned out and looked left and right before ushering Sybil and Victoria out the door. Then grabbing Sybil's arm he quietly said "Come" as they hurried across the alley to the back door of another building which he opened and they stepped into a storeroom full of crates and boxes with Cillian quickly closing and locking the door behind him.
She had remained silent as they had fled the café and made their way here but now standing in the posh sitting room of Claudette's flat, Sybil wanted answers. Her eyes blazing, her arms folded across her chest, she glared at Cillian. "Cillian tell me what is going on" Sybil demanded in her most Lady Sybil voice.
"You were right to be leery of that man last week" Cillian began "the one when we spent the night tending to his friend." Sybil paled as she listened as Cillian told the man actually worked for Victoria's husband who was searching for the English nurse giving aid to the Irish rebels. Feeling her legs weaken, Sybil's hands grasped the back of the wing chair so as to steady herself as she heard of Kate overhearing the man revealing his finding of Sybil and Major Sutter's plans to arrest her and Kate sounding the alarm propelling Cillian into the action that thwarted Major Sutter's plans to arrest Sybil as she left the café after lunching with Victoria.
"We need to get you to a safe house."
"But Tom and Keela-"
Cillian gently reached for Sybil's arm. "They're safe. They're upstairs napping with Meg watching over them."
"Upstairs" Sybil softly repeated. "I need to see …" she took a step towards the wide arched doorway. Then stopping, she turned to face Cillian, her voice almost a whisper she said "Torie …" Her lips trembled "Torie … did she know?"
Cillian vigorously shook his head and once again reached out to touch Sybil's arm. "She had no idea what her husband was planning." Sybil closed her eyes as she fell against Cillian.
Victoria stood at the sideboard refilling her glass with sherry when she heard the front door slam shut. Downing the small glass of amber liquid she closed her eyes as the soothing liquid trickled down her throat.
"Ah here you are" her husband's voice boomed out from the doorway of the sitting room.
"Where else would I be at this time of day" she answered as she set her empty glass down on the sideboard before walking over to the sofa and sitting down.
Walking into the room, James picked up a bottle of whiskey and filled a glass. He took a deep drink before turning and looking at his wife. His voice steady but filled with an underlying anger that Victoria could detect. "So how was your luncheon?"
"You probably know more than me about what happened but as you can see I came away unscathed."
"And how did that happened?"
Victoria took a deep breath and then stood up. "Your concern for me is quite touching."
As she started to walk out of the room, James grabbed her arm making her wince. "How did you get out of the café?"
Instead of answering him she looked down at her arm. "You're hurting me." The stare she gave him caused him to pause wondering why have you finally developed a backbone.
But he dropped her arm "Smoke bombs don't usually cause much damage" he responded. But very useful as a diversion he thought.
"Smoke bomb?" Puzzlement evident in both her face and voice.
He nodded his head. "Apparently some kids threw them through several shop windows including your café."
"I thought it strange that the air was so thick with smoke but it didn't smell like anything was burning."
"When you came out of the café you should have gone up to one of our soldiers and they would have made sure you got home safely."
"But I did get home safely. Anyway I didn't see any soldiers. Another diner led us out through the back door into an alleyway and I found a taxi about a block away." She turned to leave.
"And your friend Lady Sybil did she get home safely?"
Victoria turned back to face her husband. "I imagine so. The trams were running."
"Ah that's right she lives outside the city. Maybe we should move out there it might be safer for you and you'd have a friend close by. Where does she live?"
"I think you've asked me this before" Victoria shook her head. "If she ever told me the name I don't remember." She wasn't sure why she had lied to her husband about Sybil and continued now to do so but there was something about his curiosity and inquisitiveness that bothered her. It was as if James suspected Sybil of something and while he was secretive about his work here in Ireland she did have more than an inkling of what he was up to and she would protect her friend in any way she could.
February
After filling his glass, it took all of his effort not to throw the half empty bottle of whiskey against the wall. Despite the outward appearance of calm and control, inside James Sutter was seething. His attempts to find Sybil had come up empty. Now his plant, his best hope for finding her or at least a lead to her, had disappeared. No one had seen Robert Conlon for over a week now, not since, according to his landlady, he had left his room headed to the pub.
He took a long deep drink from his glass. How could … He took another drink. He held the glass so tight it was surprising it didn't break. I'll not be made a food of … not but that woman and not by my wife. He threw the glass across the room where it shattered and shards of glass and whiskey rain downed the wall.
Kate, who had been mopping in the hallway, heard the noise and came running towards the sitting room. Reaching the wide arched doorway she met James. "Clean up this mess" he barked as he shoved past her.
Sybil was so tired, more tired than she had ever been in her life. The bath tub wasn't even half full but it took too much time and effort to heat enough water to fill it. Satisfied that there was enough water to soak in, Sybil lowered herself into the warm bathwater wishing she had some scented bath salts. Leaning back against the tub Sybil closed her eyes wanting to shut out all thoughts and just luxuriate in the warm water but no peaceful thoughts came to mind only the harsh reality of her situation.
They had been here for almost two weeks now and she was alarmed at how quickly Tom's physical condition had worsened but this little cottage was dark, damp and drafty and she was having a hard time keeping it warm. Just like she was having a hard time keeping them… oh Tom … Keela … I've … the tears started running down her cheeks, not gentle tears but a torrent of tears as Sybil sat in the cooling water, her forehead resting on her bent knees, her chest heaving as the tears flowed.
She sobbed until there were no more tears left.
As she sat in the now cold water taking deep breaths Sybil she heard the sounds of a motor car slowly making its way down the narrow unpaved path leading to the cottage. Oh please let it be Cillian come to take us away from here.
There was only a thin curtain that separated the bathtub from the rest of the kitchen and Sybil quickly wrapped her bathrobe around her and silently crossed the wooden floor to the window. Peering out from behind the window's faded cotton curtains, fear gripped her as an unfamiliar small black truck came to a stop in front of the cottage's door but that fear turned to relief as Fergus, Meg and then Mrs. Branson stepped out onto the sparse grass. All three were startled at the sight of the pale and wan Sybil that greeted them, her normally glossy dark hair a drab mess and deep dark circle under her eyes. The blue color of the chenille bathrobe usually accented the blue of Sybil's eyes but this morning could not hide redness of her recent tears.
A sleepless Victoria looked over at her sleeping husband and knew she had to get away from him. Since that day she had lunched with Sybil he was barely able to hide his hostility towards her. She knew she should have left him months ago but she had been determined not to leave until she retrieved the money he had stolen from her.
It was still dark when Victoria tiptoed out of her bedroom and made her way downstairs. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs wondering if a glass of whiskey would calm her nerves but she shook her head and instead headed towards the back of the house and her small sitting room. She pulled her thick cotton robe around her before sinking into the room's sole lounge chair giving her a view of the back garden. The inky blackness of the night sky had paled but there was yet no sign of a rising sun. Somehow looking at the sky gave her a sense of peace and calmness and by the time the sky held the first hints of dawn she had made her plans.
March
Her spirits had been lifted with the arrival of Mrs. Branson and Meg for they had offered much help and relief to an overwhelmed Sybil. The pale and listless Tom whose body was racked by a hacking cough had improved a little bit which Sybil attributed to a better diet now that she could go into the closest town while Mrs. Branson watched Tom and Keela.
Yet as February drifted into March Sybil was restless. It helped that she and Meg took long walks, sometimes in the woods and fields surrounding the cottage and sometimes in to town which was large enough not to notice them. Returning from one of their walks the pair stopped short at the distant sight of a black motor car parked in front of the cottage. "It's probably just Cillian or Fergus coming back to get Aunt Fi and me" Meg whispered to Sybil.
"Maybe you should stay here until-" but Meg didn't finish her sentence as a broad smile crossed face. "It's Cillian!"
"Tell me it's okay for us to go home" Sybil pleaded as she hugged her brother-in-law.
"Fraid not" Cillian replied. "In fact Major Sutter has quietly put a bounty on you."
His words were like a knife tearing through her body and Sybil slumped against the car. "No … no … no!"
Cillian took Sybil into his arms. "I-"
But Sybil was too distraught to listen to him. "We can't stay here much longer. Tom needs-"
Cillian's hand gently touched Sybil's chin and tilted her face up towards him. "I've brought someone who thinks-"
"Sybil" Both Cillian and Sybil turned towards the woman who was now standing between them and the cottage's front door. Although the voice sounded familiar, Sybil crinkled her forehead in confusion as she looked at the woman with the short dark hair. "Torie?" she finally said as recognition dawned on her face.
Torie's hand immediately patted her hair. "New haircut, new color. Yes it's me Sybil."
April
Sybil didn't mind that this villa wasn't at the water's edge because its hillside location gave her this wonderful view. A warm breeze ruffled her hair as she watched the sober clothed maid Marie on the terrace below setting the table for breakfast. Meals here were leisurely affairs and almost all taken outside on the terrace. Meg came out onto the terrace and said bonjour to Marie. Between learning French, swimming in the pool, devouring exotic, to Irish standards, food I may never get her to leave this place Sybil chuckled.
Her hands resting on the ornate cast iron railing, Sybil tilted her head back, closed her eyes and let the sunshine wash across her face. She had grown up being told a lady never lets the sun color her face but like so many things these days that was something she no longer felt obliged to obey. Taking a deep breath she inhaled air sweetly perfumed from the shrubs and plants growing in tubs and terra cotta pots dotted across the stone terrace below and felt a peacefulness that she hadn't felt in a long time.
The past cannot be changed so concentrate on the present. How many times since she'd been here had Torie's Aunt Margie utter those words? Sybil chuckled thinking that Aunt Margie was as colorful as the scene from this balcony. Five husbands? Or was it six? Each husband dying and leaving her richer than before. Leaving her a house in Belgrave Square, a chalet in Switzerland, and this villa in France overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Torie's uncle had been husband three, or was it four, and Margie had doted on her husband's little niece. While the rest of Torie's family had cut relations with Margie when her husband died, Torie secretly continued to correspond with the lively, spirited Margie. And in her time of need it was Aunt Margie who opened her home to not only Torie but also Sybil.
Torie, accompanied by Sybil, Tom, Keela, and Meg had fled Ireland for this peaceful place. Here in this sunny spot and with a diet full of fresh vegetables and fruit Tom had finally shed his cough and each day had become stronger and stronger.
Concentrate on the present. But Sybil couldn't help but think of and miss those they had left behind: Mrs. Branson who tearily pleaded May God keep you safe and someday bring you back to us; Fergus and the men at the shop; Kate who had saved Sybil by rushing to Cillian and telling him of the Major's plot; and of course Cillian, the man she had come to love as a brother, the man who had risked his life to save her.
Sybil didn't hear Tom step onto the balcony and only became aware of his presence as he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. Oh wonderful it was to have her Tom back!
"So have you decided on where we're going?" he whispered in her ear.
"I know we talked about exploring the coast and maybe even going as far as Rome but we could just wander closer to here. Margie says Nimes is wonderful for Roman ruins. And then there's the Alps."
"So still not decided?" Tom chuckled.
"May be could just get in the motor car and decide as we come to a junction which way to go?
"You mean just see where the road takes us?"
Sybil shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?"
The lighthearted moment became silent as Sybil looked out across the valley below. Then turning to face him she said "Tom ever since I've known you you've talked about freedom for Ireland and now it seems closer than ever."
Tom raised his brow wondering where this conversation was going.
"I know I can't go back, not just yet, but you can go back to Ireland. You could still play a role in her independence. I'd stay here with Meg and Torie."
"Sybil" Tom took her hand in his. "After coming so close to death I know one thing very well and that is that my place is with you. Till the end of my days I'll be with you."
With tears in her eyes, Sybil's hand gently traced the outline of Tom's face. "And I'll always be with you."