Sophie had managed to position herself next to Tom, just as Lily had known she would. Of the two men, Second Lieutenant Tom Reese was certainly the more attractive, as well as the more obviously American, with his blond good looks and his easy manner, his loose, long-legged stride and his slightly loud laugh. He was exactly what Lily might have expected of a GI, and that made him seem both comfortable and intriguing.
As for Matthew Lawson… he seemed far more mysterious, although Lily thought perhaps he was just shy. He spoke very little, and his guarded gaze moved silently from one person to the next. His skin was sallow, his eyes a deep brown, his hair just as dark, brushed back from a high forehead. Next to Tom’s blond radiance, he seemed even darker, but Lily admired the determined set of his jaw, the quiet containment she sensed from him that felt like strength, at least to her.
It was a ten-minute walk across Clapham Common back to Holmside Road, past the four big guns stationed there that Lily didn’t like to look at, and the neat rows of the community allotment that part of the Common had been given over to.
Lily hung back while Carol marched ahead, and Sophie’s tinkling laugh rang out among the stark, leafless trees as she and Tom chatted easily.
Her father, Lily saw, tried to engage Matthew in conversation, but didn’t seem to make much headway and eventually walked ahead with his wife, leaving Lily a few steps behind the strange soldier.
Feeling strangely reckless, her heart beating hard, she quickened her steps until he was obliged to fall into step next to her. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound Sophie’s bright voice and Tom Reese’s rumbling responses from in front of them, with the occasional burst of laughter, making Lily think of a raucous birdcall.
“Where are you from in America?” she finally worked up the courage to ask, her voice a bit breathless.
“New York.” His voice was clipped, the simple answer spoken carefully, as if he parted with every word with both consideration and reluctance.
“I don’t know anything about America, besides that it’s big.” Lily flushed at how stupid she sounded. Surely she could do better than that. “New York… you mean the city, I suppose?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen the Statue of Liberty? And the Empire State Building?”
“Yes.” His manner wasn’t unfriendly precisely, but neither did it invite further conversation, and, in any case, Lily couldn’t think of anything more to say than what she already had, pitiful though it had been. She didn’t know anything else about New York, or even America. Her paltry effort had fallen to the ground, unheeded. They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Back at the house, Carol set everything in motion, bringing dishes out of the oven while Lily helped. Richard stoked the fire before sitting down in front of it, and Sophie fetched the two men cups of tea, her voice carrying throughout the downstairs.
“We would offer you sherry, but we haven’t seen any in years,” she said with a laugh. “Do you even drink sherry in America? Or is it all whiskey and gin?”
“Sophie,” Richar
d admonished, but there was a smile in his voice.
“I believe my mother drinks it, ma’am,” Tom said as he took his cup of tea.
“Ma’am!” Sophie threw her head back with a throaty laugh. “You mustn’t call me that. I feel about a hundred years old.”
“You don’t look it,” Tom answered chivalrously, and Sophie laughed again, batting her eyelashes with such deliberate coquetry that no one could take her seriously, and all the men smiled.
In the kitchen, Carol pursed her lips, but her eyes twinkled. Lily concentrated on scraping off bits of browned potato from the pan, shooting occasional glances into the sitting room, feeling as if exotic creatures had landed there.
Soon enough, they were all sat down, with Carol dishing out bowls of soup as a first course, and a way to fill manly stomachs, before the meat was served. Then Richard was carving thin slivers of ox cheek, hoping to make the remaining meat last the week.
Tom enthused about the food and filled his plate; Lily saw Carol eye the heaps of food only slightly askance, but, of course, she said nothing. The two Americans would eat more food than the whole family normally had in nearly a week, Lily suspected, and not even realize it.
The conversation came and went in fits and starts, with Sophie and Tom leading the charge. It was clear that Sophie had marked Tom Reese for herself, in the way she poured his wine, and leaned closer to him as she spoke. Carol watched the pair in sharp-eyed quiet; Lily had the sense that her mother was not entirely impressed with Tom Reese, although she couldn’t say why. He certainly seemed charming enough to her, and if he was brash, well, that was because he was American, surely. Already Lily knew he belonged to Sophie.
And as for Matthew Lawson…? Lily snuck another quick look at his saturnine features, his neutral expression, and thought he belonged to no one. Although, she concluded upon another hurried glance, she couldn’t decide if he was gloomy or merely contained. He was certainly quiet.
“So when did you arrive in this country, Lieutenant?” Carol asked brightly, and Tom answered, while Matthew cut his meat—he’d only taken one thin sliver, while Tom had asked for three—into small pieces.
“Only a few weeks ago, ma’am. We’re greenhorns. The 82nd has been fighting in Sicily since April ’43, but we’re a new division just shipped over.” Tom smiled, flashing his teeth. “We were in training back in Louisiana for two years, and now we’re ready for some action.” He glanced at Matthew, whose expression was bland. “Although Matthew here didn’t join the 82nd until we were on the ship. I don’t know where he’s been.” He let out a laugh, which seemed too loud in the small dining room.
“The 82nd?” Sophie queried, looking between them both.
“82nd Airborne,” Tom explained. “We’re paratroopers. When the time comes, we’ll parachute into Europe.” He gave her what Lily supposed was meant to be a mysterious smile. “Can’t say more than that, though.” Lily doubted he knew much more than that.
“Goodness.” Sophie looked delightfully impressed. “And how long do you think you’ll be in London?”
“No one knows.” Tom shrugged. “A few months, I should think, although perhaps not in London. There’s talk about moving somewhere up north for more training, but we’re still waiting for our orders.”