‘Good morning, Sir Charles,’ Flora said politely. ‘Isn’t it good to see the Isla back in port again?’
He glanced at her coolly before turning back to watch the ship as it manoeuvred into position. ‘Shouldn’t you be going about your duties, Miss Gordon?’
She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘I’ve another ten minutes before my shift begins, so I thought I’d come down and welcome Alec home first.’
A muscle in his jaw twitched with annoyance. ‘Well, as you can see, I am here already. There’s no need for a delegation. I’m sure my son will wish to come straight back to Ardtuath House to see his mother. There’ll be time enough for your welcome’ – he stressed the word with a sarcastic sneer – ‘later on, when you’ve finished your work. His Majesty’s Navy isn’t paying you to loiter here, distracting the men and getting in the way of important operations.’
Flora’s fingers curled around the brooch in her coat pocket, squeezing it so tightly that the point of the crown dug into the flesh of her hand. She was about to reply when he wheeled around to glare at her, his face dark with anger. She recoiled in horror, recognising again that flash of likeness between father and son.
‘Would you like me to have a word with your commanding officer, Miss Gordon? Or perhaps with the camp commander, who’s a personal friend of mine? You would do well to remember that. I could easily have you transferred to another base, and that brother of yours as well. I’ve no doubt he enjoys his nice safe position on dry land, while others like my son are off facing the perils out at sea.’ He spat the words at her, little flecks of spittle gathering in the creases at the sides of his mouth.
Involuntarily, she backed away from him, feeling a mixture of horror and bewilderment at the venomous bite of his words. For a moment she was speechless as she tried to gather her thoughts. She swallowed back the stinging retort that rose in her throat, though, finding the sleeve of her coat gripped by a firm hand. Turning, blinking back the furious tears that had flooded her eyes, she found Mairi standing beside her.
‘Come on, Flora,’ her friend said, tugging at her arm. ‘Let’s go and get our orders.’
As they walked towards the semicircle of huts surrounding the parade ground, Mairi said to her, ‘What was all that about? I could see from the way you recoiled that he’d said something to hurt you. He’s still no more accepting about you and Alec, is he?’
Flora shook her head, biting her lip so that the tears wouldn’t fall. She was determined not to give him that satisfaction.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, once she could trust her voice not to break. ‘Alec is back, that’s all that counts. I’ll see him soon enough.’ She shot Mairi a grateful glance. ‘Thank you for coming along when you did. I was about to say some things that certainly wouldn’t have helped the situation.’
Mairi shook her head. ‘There’s not much point in arguing with a man like that. He’ll not hear what you say, in any case. Give it time. Everything will be different once this war is over, you’ll see.’
Flora sighed. ‘Even more time . . . how are you and I supposed to bear it? I feel as if our lives have been on hold for years already.’
‘I know, but there’s progress being made. Did you hear about the Tirpitz? Bridie says there’s been a secret mission to Norway and they just received word yesterday that it was successful. Apparently they used midget submarines and got to her in the fjord where she’s been hiding. They reckon she’s been put safely out of commission for months now. So cheer up, that’s one less danger for us to have to worry about when Alec and Roy are out there next, isn’t it?’
Flora smiled wanly. ‘You’re right. Every day that goes by we’re one day nearer to them coming home for good.’
‘And don’t you dare forget it, Flora Gordon!’ Mairi gave her a quick hug. ‘If you’re not going to let Mr Hitler beat you, then you can’t let Sir Charles do so, either. Now let’s get on with doing our bit to make that day come around a little sooner.’
As the year reached its final short-lived days, Flora tucked pine branches along the top of the mirror in the entrance way so they would fill the cottage with the scent of the forest, and wove a wreath of scarlet-berried holly to hang on the front door. She felt she was going through the motions, but she needed to make an effort at some sort of cheerful normality to lift her spirits.