FOYLE'S WAR- FAUX PAS- CHAPTER 2
Disclaimer- Foyle's War is the creation of Anthony Horowitz. It is brilliant television and the actors are wonderful. However, Rachel Roberts is a creation of my own.
Union Station terminal in Washington, DC was opened in 1907. During the Second World War as many as 200,000 people passed through it in a single day.
When Rachel closed her eyes she only intended to shut out the world, particularly Mr. Foyle, until the train arrived in Washington. However, sleep claimed her once more and a memory buried deep in her subconscious came to the surface as a hazy dream.
Saturday- December 6, 1941
"It matches your eyes. Let me buy it for you. Consider it an early Christmas present and…" He stopped mid sentence to kiss her. The proprietress of the shop cleared her throat and the couple quickly disconnected from the kiss. "Wear it next Saturday, O.K.?"
"I sure will, Jimmy. Can't wait for that day to come."
Jimmy planted a kiss on her forehead. "Me, too. It's gonna be a long, long week." He looked down into her green eyes and smiled. "But it'll be worth the wait."
Not caring if the old bat who ran the hat shop approved or not, Rachel wrapped her arms around Jimmy's waist and rested her head on his chest. "Yeah, it sure will."
After several attempts to resume reading the newspaper, Foyle gave up and tossed it on the seat next to him. There was nothing else to do but think about why he'd come to America or watch the young woman across from him as she slept. He opted for the second course of action.
Although asleep, there was nothing that appeared to be relaxed about her. Her hands tightly grasped the arms of her seat and a combination of grimaces and frowns flickered across her face. She tossed her head from side to side in what seemed like an attempt to cast off whatever unpleasantness was causing her such great distress while she slept. One toss too many caused her hat to fall off. He caught it in the palm of his hand just before it hit the floor. The label inside it immediately drew his attention. It wasn't the hat maker's name that caught his eye; it was the location- Honolulu. Rachel Roberts was a long way from the hat's origin.
Foyle's study of her hat was interrupted by a loud whimper and a cry of "it's all I have left, can't lose it, can't lose it!" Slowly, Rachel opened her eyes and lifted her right hand to touch her head, reaching for her hat. Panic set in as she realized it was no longer there. "Where's my hat? Oh God! Where is it?"
It quickly became obvious to Foyle that the hat was more than an article of clothing to the young woman. The panic in her voice told him that it connected her with something or someone she'd lost. He gently called to her, "Miss Roberts, I have your hat. No harm has come to it."
"Oh, thank God! I thought I'd lost it. Thank you." Rachel took the hat from his outstretched hand; carefully placing it on her lap. She stoked it lovely and it seemed that she was making sure it was really there. "Mr. Foyle must think I'm crazy. Maybe I am."
He inclined his head towards the object in her lap and pbserved, "That hat must mean a lot to you."
She looked up at him, her green eyes shining with tears. "Yes, yes it does. It was a gift from a…friend a long time ago."
Although he was officially "retired", he was and would always be a policeman. Foyle knew he was already interested in Rachel Roberts and there would be no going back. She seemed troubled and vulnerable, but not weak. He would be reluctant to part company with her once they reached Washington. Did she need protecting or something else? He wasn't sure, but the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt about leaving her alone. "This is not the reason I came to America. I have no obligation to her whatsoever."
"Really sir? You think so? You're already obligated and you know it! " Foyle sighed and ran a hand across his forehead as if he could make that voice go away. That was Sam's voice in his thoughts. Now he wondered if he were going mad.
"Mr. Foyle?" Rachel called out to him, but he seemed to be preoccupied. "Sir?"
The voice that called him "sir" the second time wasn't in his mind. It came from the woman seated across from him. "Not one bit like Sam, short, dark hair, green eyes, different accent…and yet… Come on Foyle, pull yourself together and answer the young woman."
He made a point to focus on her eyes and answered, "Yes?'
"Just wanted to thank you again for "catching" my hat. I would have been devastated if it had been lost. It's silly; I know it's just a hat."
He chewed on his bottom lip for a second before responding, "Not silly at all. It seems to have a special meaning for you."
She looked out the window for a moment and then turned back to face him. "Yes, yes it does." Rachel changed the subject. "I wonder how long it will be before we arrive in Washington."
"Shouldn't be long," he told her. "While you were sleeping the train stopped to let off passengers in Baltimore."
She raked her fingers through her hair and sighed, "Oh good. I'm so ready to get off this train, although I shouldn't complain. This is just a "jump, skip and hop" compared to the cross country train ride I took a few years ago. As a girl in school I saw maps of the United States in textbooks, but I didn't realize how big this country really is until I traveled across it on a crowded train that took three days to get from San Francisco to home."
Where was home for Rachel Roberts? From the sound of her accent, she wasn't a native of New York. Somewhere in the South was Foyle's guess.
She read his mind. "I'm from the Holy City."
Foyle reacted to this information with a raised eyebrow and a puzzled look, causing Rachel to laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry. I should have been more straightforward. I'm from Charleston, South Carolina. People call it the "Holy City" because there are so many churches there."
"That smile. Glad to see a little light in those green eyes." He returned her smile with one of his own. "I'm glad you clarified where that the "Holy City" was Charleston. I was about to question my knowledge of world geography."
"Oh Mr. Foyle, I'm so sorry for the confusion," Rachel told him in a solemn tone that didn't sound exactly sincere.
"No, you're not. You enjoyed it." He decided that he would tease her a little bit if it would keep the smile on her face and the light in her eyes a little longer. They certainly suited her better than the panic and sadness he'd seen earlier.
"Lord have mercy girl! Is he flirting with you? Well…why don't you flirt right back? Won't matter anyway dearie; soon you'll be off the train and never see him again." Rachel knew that voice. It was temptation with a capital T; encouraging her to be just a little bit short of naughty. She bit her lip to keep from grinning. A second voice invaded her thoughts, telling her, "He's old enough to be your father. Seems nice enough, but you don't want him to get the wrong impression, do you?"
She mentally swatted away the second voice and followed the first one's lead. Rachel shrugged. "Yes, I confess I did. Been a long time since I've caused a man any sort of confusion. The look on your face was priceless."
He slumped just a little bit in his seat, crossing his arms and chewed on his bottom lip while he formulated what he would say to her next. "It's been years since I've played this game." He shrugged and thought, "Well, in for penny, in for a pound."
"Miss Roberts, I…" He was interrupted by the conductor's announcement that they were pulling into Union Station.
"Yes Mr. Foyle, you were saying...?"
"Uh, um...looks like we've finally arrived in Washington." He wasn't sure if he was delighted or disappointed to be interrupted by the conductor.
Rachel was relieved at first and then a wave of sadness swept over her unexpectedly. She would never see this man again and for some reason she didn't understand, that was an undesirable state of affairs. "At least I'll have this "souvenir" on my forehead to remember him by for a few days." A sigh sounding like a balloon deflating escaped her lips, followed by a frown that she didn't realize was there.
"Oh, don't do that. Miss Roberts…Rachel, don't frown! It's becoming deuced difficult to leave you. Just don't do that. Need to make sure you're alright. Just… don't… frown anymore!" Foyle proceeded to make busy by gathering up his newspaper, coat and hat. He needed the distraction to force himself to get up, get off the train and leave her.
Rachel stood up while he was still seated to avoid another "collision" with Foyle. She placed her handbag on her arm and grabbed her coat and hat. "Well Mr. Foyle, I'm glad I had the opportunity to meet you. I'm just sorry that it was in such a dramatic fashion." At the mere mention of the incident, she felt her face turn red.
By this time, Foyle was standing up and looking down at her. He realized that it was a rare occasion when he wasn't looking eye to eye with a woman. This fact and her blushing face delighted him. She had provided the respite, although brief that he needed in the serious business that had brought him to America.
As they exited the train, Foyle stepped out onto the platform first and reached up to help Rachel down the steps. Any notion of a graceful descent on her part was erased when she somehow managed to trip over her own two feet and fell out of the train. He managed to grab her and set her on her feet before she knocked him down.
She closed her eyes for a moment and mentally dared her body to show any signs of embarrassment. Finally, she looked up at him and sighed, "I did it again, didn't I?"
Foyle twisted his lip to the side for a few seconds and then responded, "No, you did something completely different. You nearly knocked me flat on the Union Station platform. Not…quite…the same."
"Uh, maybe it would be a good time to say "good bye" to each other and go our separate ways. Anyway, I've got to go get my luggage and look for a taxi. I just want to get to my hotel, I'm starving. Neglected to eat breakfast this morning." Just then her stomach growled, adding validity to her statement. She rolled her eyes and mentally cursed the digestive organ for not minding its own business. "Well good bye, Mr. Foyle. Hope all goes well for you while you're here." Before he could respond, she hurried off into the crowd.
He watched Rachel walked away, amazed at how fast the petite woman could move. Then he made his own way to pick up his luggage and find a taxi for himself.
Rain was falling as Rachel got to the taxi stand. It looked like she might not get one then and have to wait for who knew how long for the next one to arrive. The back passenger side door of the last taxi in line opened and a distinctive male voice called out, "Miss Roberts! Come get out of the rain."
Rachel hopped in the taxi so fast that she nearly landed in Foyle's lap before he moved over to give her room on the seat. "Thanks, I thought for sure I was gonna get soaked before another taxi came by."
The driver turned around to the couple and asked, "Where to folks?"
"The Hotel Harrington," Rachel and Foyle answered the driver simultaneously. They weren't going their separate ways just yet.
Note-The Hotel Harrington opened in 1914 and is still family owned and operated. It is located in an area between the U.S. Capitol and the White House.
Mr. Foyle is intrigued by Rachel. It will be even harder for him to want to say good bye to her now he's gotten to know a little bit about her, even though she nearly knocks him down getting off the train!
Why is the hat so important to her? No doubt that question is on his mind.
Thanks so much for reading!
TBC
