The year is 1942 and Europe is at the height of World War Two. Mila Goldstein, a Dutch Jew living in occupied Holland, has signed on as an informant for the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). However, days before her assignment, a wounded Ge...
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WHAT UP?! I'M BACK DUDES & DUDETTES! I've been out of town quite a bit the past month, but I finally found a little spare time to sit down and write! I know this chap is on the short side, but I wanted to get a little something out for you before I go back to work for the week! Let me know what you think in the comments! And as always, thank you all so much for taking this journey with me! <3
Mila walked down the sidewalk, drifts of snow that had been shoveled earlier that morning, piled knee high on either side of the pavement. She pulled her scarf snugly around her neck, a chill coursing through her as a gust of wind whipped her hair back. She looked terribly overdressed for a Saturday morning, the same green velvet dress hugging her curves from the night before. She hadn't had time to go home before her meeting with the Lingards though, so she had settled for buttoning her coat all the way up, the red wool doing a well enough job at concealing the cocktail dress underneath.
Climbing the familiar steps to the Lingard's home, she knocked against the door. The knob turned, the door clicking open, revealing a smiling Catherine.
"Hello," She said, stepping aside, allowing Mila to enter.
"Hello," Mila replied, returning Catherine's warm smile. Slipping her scarf from around her neck, her eyes fell on a slender fir tree stationed in the farthest corner of the room, its branches glimmering with tinsel and shiny ornaments. She had nearly forgotten that Christmas Day was only a week away.
A pang shot through her chest as thoughts of her father and brother flooded her mind. It would be the first Christmas she would spend without them. She thought of Gwen, and what she was doing in that moment. Was she decorating the tree with their great aunt and cousins? Was she thinking of their father and brother? Of Mila? The realization of just how lonely she was sunk in as she fought back the sudden urge to cry. Pushing the thoughts away, she cleared her throat, forcing the pleasant smile she had worn before, back on her face.
"The tree looks lovely," She said, hanging her scarf on the hook beside the door before unbuttoning her coat.
"Thank you," Catherine smiled, taking Mila's coat from her. "You look..." She trailed off, her eyes widening slightly as she scanned Mila's frame.
"It's from the party last night," Mila cut in before Catherine could finish, tugging self consciously at the material that clung around her hips.
"Well, it looks lovely," Catherine said, gesturing for Mila to sit down in her usual spot on the sofa.
"Thank you," She replied sheepishly, the warmth of a blush creeping up her neck, to her cheeks.
"We have some news," Catherine said, her tone more serious now. "I was going to wait for Harvey to tell you, but he's gotten held up and won't be able to join us this week."
"What is it?" She asked, her brow furrowing.
"The information on the transports you gave us last week," Catherine began, sitting down in the chair across from Mila. "Harvey passed it along to headquarters and a plan is being made to intercept the supplies as we speak."
"That's wonderful!" Mila replied, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't expected the dates and locations of the transports she had given Harvey last week to reach England so quickly.
"We'll have to wait to hear the outcome of course, considering the first transport isn't scheduled for another two weeks," Catherine continued. "But I think our chances of success are pretty high - Thanks to you," She added with a smile.
"Oh," Mila shook her head. "I'm sure someone else would've gotten their hands on the information if I hadn't been able to.
"Take credit where credit's due," Catherine smirked. "The only way we were ever getting our hands on information like that was through someone in your position."
Mila flushed slightly. She had grown accustomed to being scolded during her weekly meetings with Harvey and Catherine, either for something she did or something she didn't do. Being thanked for her efforts was something entirely new to her. She liked the feeling it gave her ... The feeling that she was making a difference in this horrible war - That she wasn't wasting her father's sacrifice.
"I know Harvey's been hard on you these last few weeks," Catherine said after a moment, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room. "He cares for you though, even though he'd never admit it out loud."
"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Harvey got to know your father well during the year he worked for the service," Catherine began.
"I didn't know they'd even met," Mila replied.
"Harvey considered him a friend," Catherine nodded. "When we received word that he'd..." She trailed off awkwardly. "Harvey took it quite hard."
"I had no idea," Mila said.
"When you came to us wanting to take your father's place, Harvey wouldn't even entertain the idea," Catherine continued. "If he'd had it his way you would have gotten on that ship with your sister, even if he'd had to put you on it kicking and screaming," She chuckled, a small smile flickering across her lips.
"Why didn't he?" She asked.
"Because of me," Catherine replied simply. "I told him I thought it was a good idea that you stay," She added at Mila's confused expression.
"Why?" She asked, unable to mask the curiosity in her voice.
"I know how terribly helpless it feels to stand by while people you care about are ripped away from you," Catherine began, leaning forward in her chair slightly. "You wanted to fight ... To make a difference. You remind me a lot of myself in that sense. You and I - We don't take too kindly to standing on the sidelines," She smiled softly.
"I didn't want to run away," Mila said quietly. That was the first time she had ever admitted it out loud, but it was true. She hated feeling helpless. Staying behind had been the only way for her to take back control - To ensure her father hadn't died in vain.
Catherine nodded in understanding. "I know."
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