He whisked off to the ops room without saying goodbye, leaving her alone.
She’d been busy for an hour, recording the last of her comings and goings and filling in claim forms. She lingered for a while, checking her work, expecting him to dash back in at any moment. But he didn’t appear.
When she could find nothing further to do, she folded up her desk and propped it against the wall behind the door. Lightly manoeuvred out of sight. Out of mind. She took her papers to his desk and left them in a neat pile. As an afterthought, she found her unopened resignation envelope still under its paperweight and placed it on top of the pile. She waited a little longer, hands shaking, eyes staring but seeing nothing, recognizing this paralysis for what her father had described as the bleak emptiness that follows the high tumult of action. He’d tried once to express it in a painting and at last she understood the emotion behind the leaden greys of his canvas. And this numbness was the forerunner of the moment when feeling returned — the moment when you realized you’d taken a hit. And it hurt like hell.
She went off back down the deserted stairs.
The duty sergeant in the vestibule saw her and called her back just as she reached the door.
‘Constable Wentworth? Is that you? Hard to tell when you’re not in uniform. Cor! Nearly missed you, sneaking off like that. Got something ’ere for you. Left at the desk.’
He reached under the counter, clanged a foot on a bucket and produced with an amused flourish a lavish and violently coloured bunch of flowers, their dripping wet stalks wrapped in brown paper.
‘Lovely, i’n’t they? Hope you like orange, miss? Not to everybody’s taste, p’raps. My grandfather grows these on his allotment. ’E were pleased to spare them for a lovely lady. Oh, an’ the guv said as I was to draw your attention to the card what’s in there.’
Lily hurried down to the Embankment before she took the card from its small envelope. In runic script, the words were very clear: These are called Tiger Lilies, I believe, on account of their striped boldness. I have a good deal of respect for tigers, miss. The most formidable ones I encountered in India hunted as a pair.
The words ran over on to the back: Sharpen your claws and present yourself here at 9 on Monday. There’s something else you can help me with. JS.