"Hello? Anyone there? This is the Cove Harbour."

Silence

"Anyone there? This is the Cove Harbour. Come in."

"This is London HQ. Olga speaking."

"Olga! This is Miss Dithers."

"Good to hear your voice Miss Dithers. I just came up for more coffee. It must be serious for you to being on the radio."

"Yes. I have concerns." She whispers into the microphone, "It is Mirum."

Olga stands. Sits back down. She stands again, pulls the heavy quilt off the sofa, wraps herself up and returns to the radio. "Sorry for the delay. It is quite chilly here."

"That is what I want to talk to someone about."

"The cold?"

"Mirum is quite cold. Sleepless, hardly eats and she doesn't leave her post."

"Where is she now."

"In the loo. I need to be quick. She is stubborn and I need assistance."

"I understand. I will get on it immediately."

"Thank you."

It is was a brief conversation but so much has been said. Olga quickly stands up, dropping the quilt where she stands and heads downstairs. She knocks on the door.

"Come in!"

"I was just on the radio."

Alaya and Fiona stand giving Olga her their full attention.

"It was Miss Dithers."

"Charlene?" Fiona and Alaya come from around their desk prepared for activity.

"She said, in a few words possible, Mirum is not taking care of herself."

Fiona and Alaya looks at each other.

Fiona nods and looks to Olga, "Thank you so much."

Alaya quickly grabs the phone, instructs Mr. Warrilow to contact the morgue. She puts the receiver back in its cradle.

Seconds later the phone rings, Fiona picks up. "Odea, how far along are you?"

Alaya and Olga wait.

"Okay, I will clean up." Fiona nods to Alaya, "I will be there as soon as possible. Be prepared to leave immediately." She hands the phone to Alaya, kisses her wife on the cheek and heads to the Morgue.

"It is Mirum," Alaya smiles to Olga. "Olga recieved a radio message of Mirum stubborness." Alaya listens to Odea as she is vents how we are all to take percausions.

Olga smiles and nods in agreement as Odea can be heard through the phone complaining of Mirum's habits of starving before a mystery could be solved or a story find its end.

"Fiona left just moments ago. Return here and we will make preperations."

Alaya hangs up the phone and lets out a sigh. She looks at Olga, "Fiona will handle all morgue assignments while the rest of the time we three will tackle the challenge with all our energies."

"It shall be easier with three than it was with Odea and myself." Olga grabs a biscuit from the tea tray, "I was exhausted. Mr. Warrilow proved himself invaluable."

Alaya eyes glow and she offers a slanted smile.

"What I mean is with a new relationship," Olga grabs another biscuit and continues, "It brings about an energy. A youthfulness."

Alaya goes back to her desk to return to her work, "Mrs. Yunevich I suspect you have a name change soon?"

Olga returns one biscuit to the tray, "I don't think so." She smiles at the thought, "I have been married before. It ended in heartache and pain. I am ..."

"Then it is settled," Alaya continues to type without looking up. "It shall be up to Mr. Warrilow to decide if matrimony is in your future."

"I don't know if I want to marry."

Alaya stops and looks up, "I completely agree. The whole marriage setup between two people can be so unequal. There is something to be said in maintaining your independence. Your own money, your own name and your own bank account."

Olga sits down in the nearest seat, "I am not sure I want to give up my name."

"His name."

"What?"

"I am just correcting you. You are going to give up his name."

"Whose?"

"Ivan's"

Olga sits and processing the epiphany.

Alaya returns to work, allowing her friend's words sink into her brain.

Olga lets out a huge sigh, "I have not been Olga Mosin for such a long time. I have been Mrs. Yunevich longer than my marriage."

"Maybe it is time to be Olga Mosin."

"Da." Olga stands and exits the room to go down to the tailor shop.

As she goes down she looks over to Mr. Warrilow busy on the phone. Her heart skips. She whispers to herself, 'Da. Olga Mosin'.

Mr. Warrilow turns his head and smiles at his girl.

She smiles in return.

He notices it is not the same smile he usually recieves. He does his best to not reflect his concern for tonight is Wednesday.

Olga returns to her work.

"I am finishing up packing now. What do you need?"

"Do you have soup, a heavy blanket and ... hold on."

Silence, Odea writes down the list Mirum is dictating.

"Oh I would like a few books, entertaining ones. I would also like to add another pair of trousers. Wool, if you could." Mirum chirps almost excited, "Oh! A heavy sweater, one that Grandmother April made."

"I should leave within the hour." Odea looks at the list.

"See you soon."

"It will be good to see you."

"I can't wait."

Odea leave the radio and heads to the kitchen where Fiona and Alaya are packing a small box.

"She requested soup, a heavy blanket, wool trousers and a sweater that your mother April made."

"Do you suppose she'll eat these?" Fiona holds up a jar and has mentally picked out a heavy sweater her mother made.

"Pack it." Alaya shoves three more jars, "It is good protein."

"I am going to grab some clothing. I know what would keep her warm?"

Olga goes over her notes as she waits for Mr. Warrilow to finish his phone call.

*double knock*

Olga jumps, even though she expected his usual annoucement at the door.

He tilts his head as Olga closes her books and stands. "Are you feeling well?"

Olga knods, "I am fine. Plenty on my mind."

He stands tall and looks down, "Olga, maybe we go talk over dinner?"

She smiles, "I was looking forward to a bit of escape with the film. It is called 'Yes, Madam?' and it is supposed to be funny."

He looks for Olga's smile, he is disappointed. He steps back, opens her coat, "We shall walk to pictures, my Russian doll". He is pleased as his soft words produce a half smile. He reminds himself women are complex and they can feel many things at once.

They walk to the cinemia in silence with Olga's one arm wrapped around his while her other swings two gas masks. She decided to allow herself to be happy. It must be the cold, she loves the cold.

After the film they talked about what they liked or disliked until they arrive at the nearest Corner Houses. It pleased both of them them to see a hostess.

They are seated in a nice location, crowded, but intimate.

Olga in almost a whisper, "So what did the war office have to say?"

He places his fork down, wipes his mouth with his napkin and grab's Olga's hand.

For the first time she felt her heart beat so hard as if her rib cage was going to break. She instictively tighten her grip offering a subtle 'please stay'.

He smiles. "My beautiful Russian doll, you know how I feel. I want to help the war effort."

"What did they say?"

"They will come by the office Monday to see my desk setup." He sits back allowing himself to brag to his girl. "When I told them how I set up the reception area and how I answer the phone."

Olga relaxes her hand and offers a large smile, "So they might offer you a desk position."

"I don't know." He allows Olga to just rest her hand in his. "They will know Monday."

"They will be impressed."

"I hope ..."

The diners are inturrpted by an overlly exicted woman as she cries, "Yes! Yes!" as she admires the ring on her hand." She then hugs the now standing uniformed young man.

There is a charge of excitement and a community of applause fills the dining hall.

After a socially acceptable amount of time the atmosphere calms.

"As I was saying," Morgan leans towards to create a bit more privacy. "I hope that I can get a more active assignment."

Olga feels her her chest become heavy, "Active assignment?"

"Well more like I had the war," He grabs her hand slightly tighter. "I am skilled. I don't need to be trained."

Olga looks into his eyes and attempts to study them.

"What do you see?"

"I only wonder if it is obligation or are you drawn to the excitement?"

He closes his eyes and prepares what he says next. He opens his eyes, "I have lost my arm. I do not dare lose the remaining one. I could not imagine not holding your wonderful hands. Like I said, it they need to see the reception area before they can put me on assignment."

"What do you want?"

"I was a good radio man, very good. I did my best to keep my ears sensitive. I kept cotton balls in my ears, except when I was on the radio. I trained to listen to everything, not just the words." He chuckled, "The radios back then were short range. A fierce wind would..."

Olga smirks and shakes her head, "Please tell me about M3."

He leans over, "First the wireless we used were made by the Marconi company. It was a tool, but limited. Not like now radio operators calling around the globe. Ah, but you know this my little Russian engineer."

"It does not matter."

"Matter?"

"What I know or knew. I am here with you and I want you to talk about what makes you happy." She offers a smile, "I don't know everything."

"I bore you?"

"Never."

"It only matters on Monday. We need to be ready."

"We?"

"Well I tell them of your responsibilities, your background ..."

"I am nobody."

He shakes his head, "I am nobody."

"Then we are nobody together." Olga shocks herself, 'what did I say? did that come out of my mouth?' She ponders her feelings and is shocked that somehow this matters more than an middle-aged crush. 'We? Did I say that?' She wakes out of her introspective moment and see this man, who has entered her life and heart, who is smiling ear to ear. She smiles and shakes her head, "Mind your food and me not being such a fool."

He puts the hunk of meat into his mouth and attempts to chew while grinning.

'He looks like a child.' Olga smiles in return. "You are a child."

They finish eating while listening to the music on the phonograph.

He is pulling all his confidence as he watches his girl struggling with an inner battle.

For the moment, the war forgotten, in the peace of community.

He waits until she is finishes her plate, "I want to help."

She softly remarks, "I know."

"You are a strong woman and I see your mind and heart in a great debate."

"Am I that obvious?" She looks around the room.

"Not at all," he leans over and almost whispers, "I am confident."

"Confident?"

"Yes, I believe you have an inner battle and when you want me to know you will share."

"How on earth?" Olga sits back shocked, almost invaded.

He tugs at her arm, not allowing her to emotionally escape. "My russian doll." He looks down at his missing limb and decides that his vulnerability might give her strength. "My inner battle of being less. Being less whole. Was a battle I had to face. I would cry only in darkness. I didn't want to be seen in public. Watched. Evaluated. Which is why I loved lamplighting nobody saw me. None to judge. The Bobbies are fellows whom I have served with and with that came mutual respect. The nights, offered privacy. It was safe."

He takes his eyes off his missing limb and into her eyes. "Working for you was the kick in the arse I needed to stop hiding and walk with the living."

"You think I am hiding?"

"No that was my inner battle." He sat back on his seat with a boyish half smile, "I just recognize the posture, the eyes and the heistation." He whispers, "You smile is dimmed. I am concerned. When you are ready, you'll tell me."

She nods, "It is not about you wanting to be helpful to this war."

That shocked him, "I see." He was about to inquire for further details but decides against it immediately.

"There are things in this world out of of control. Like flooding a town or death of a loved one." She sips her coffee, "I like being in control not letting someone else control my destiny."

"That is admirable trait."

"Da." She sips her coffee and looks up to with a genuine smile. "So Monday?"

"Monday."

Odea sips her tea while watching from a frosted window inside a warm Cockburnspath village store and post office. She wonders how everything is going at Low Brorrowbridge and if there is any news of the Tebay Witch. She fights wondering of Ada's location and well-being. Times of boredom seem to be the hardest to control where Odea's mind goes. The energy she uses trying to not worry or missing her Ada always leaves her exhausted. Right now Mirum needs her and hopeless in aiding Ada. Odea decided on the train from london she would just focus on getting Mirum back on track.

She smiles, finishes the last bit of tea and pulls latches her coat as she notices Miss Dithers with a local taxi, a horse-drawn carriage. Miss Dithers jumps down and waves to Odea from the street.

Odea heads out to the cool air and smiles at Miss Dithers, "Thank you for retrieving transportation. I have much to carry. Between Mirum's wish list and the family's concern ..." Odea points to the boxes to the left of the steps, "I brought everything wanted and needed."

Miss Dither attempts to explain why no automobile, "Petrol is limited. Mrs. Norah Moisy and her daughter manage local transportation."

A large woman sitting in the seat nods and speaks with a Scottish accent, but not at intense as Fiona's, "We are to turn back time with the war. Luckily we don't have far."

"I am grateful." Odea piles her luggage on the back and straps everything down, "Thank you. This is an absolute wonderful solution." She puts the other boxes inside the carrage and looks up to the Mrs. Norah Moisy, "This would have taken me days. You are my angel."

Mrs. Moisy laughs hearty. "Angel. I have not been called that since I was a wee lass." She continues to chuckle and drive in silence. Mrs. Moisy directs the horses to the cove and masterly navigates the carriage through the sand up to the small cabin's front door.

Odea quickly unloads as the wind off the sea. Although it feels cool to herself, she knows it must be like cold midges to everyone else. She pays Mrs. Mosiy, "I am most grateful."

Mrs. Moisy pulls her coat tighter, "When you need us again, just send word. Either I or Davina will come, after the workday, of course." She maneuvers the horse and carriage out of the cove with ease.

Odea looks to Miss Dithers, "Where is she?"

Miss Dithers points to the dimmly lit window aross the cove, "At her post."

Odea grabs Miss Dither's hand, a carpet bag in the other and runs across the cove to the harbourmaster's building. Odea opens without hesitation, allows Miss Dithers to enter first and quickly shuts the door behind her to keep out the cold.

Miss Dithers leads the way to the main office door and they enter without knocking.

"Mirum?" Miss Dither's comes to Mirum's side who undraps herself from a blanket.

Odea holds back her shock as Mirum is whiter than usual, lips almost blue and dark circles under her eyes. She becomes scared and decides to pull deep within her to find strength. She runs over and hug her sister with all her might, "I have miss you."

Odea lifts Mirum out of the seat. She holds back complaining how thin she has gotten.

Miss Dithers quickly takes Mirum's seat, "I will take watch for a bit. You spend some time with your sister."

"Are you sure?" Mirum asks meekly.

"Yes," as she waves the two away.

Odea quickly heads to the fireplace and adds firewood. "Mirum, please send message to Alaya I have arrived."

Without hesitation Mirum runs over to the radio and updates on Odea's arrival.

Odea stands up and evaluates the room. She feels the cold from the sea flooding in from the missing pane. It is as if the sea sucking all the warmth. She makes a mental note to fix that, somehow. As she walks around she notices chalk marks and footprints from the youth that used to share the space with Mirum. She stops and reevaluates the space again and a film of loneliness covers the walls, her heart hurts. 'How long has Mirum been alone and strong?' Her mind snaps awake and remembers the carpet bag. She goes over and opens it up to pull a long black lined hooded cape and quickly drapes it over Mirum as she is talking to someone at home.

Mirum pulls it close and almost coos like a child, "I am sorry. Odea just placed a large black cape around me." Mirum licks the hood on the cape and a tear falls down her face. 'I smell family'

Mirum sits back and listens to the story of the cape worn by her Mother and then Fiona as she was alone trying deperately to get home. She pulls it tigher.

Soon a warm cup of tea is placed in front of her with a kiss on her forehead, she looks up to a smiling Odea. She watches as Odea delivers tea to Mirum. 'Her eyes are sad. How long has Odea been alone and strong.'

She goes back to listening to the story of the cape wrapped around her body.

After what seemed too short of time the conversation needed to end.

"Goodnight." Mirum takes of the headphones turns to talk to Odea who is no longer in the room. "Charlene, where is Odea?"

"She is gathering things from the cabin. I am so glad you suggested to hire the Moisys. She came with an army of boxes."

"I had a large list and it will be exciting to see what has been packed."

"As long it gets you eating again."

Mirum nods, "Do you mind I kip down a bit on the cot? Just an hour?"

Charlene pulls up the blanket around her head and legs, "Please. Odea and I will manage."

Mirum curls up on the cot with two blankets while still clasping the cape. She puts the hood over her head and falls asleep almost instantly with her mouth and nose filled with scent of her mother.