Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ２ - Ｌａｔｅ】

Chapter 2 - Late

Claudia did not sleep on the night going into the 5th. She paced nervously, then tried to sit and her leg bounced incessantly. Instead she busied herself with going through her wardrobe. She sorted it, with what she would not take with her back to England on one side, and what she would on the other. Next her drawers, and her tiny dressing table, and her bedside. The bookshelf, the living room, the bathroom, the kitchen, the books in the kitchen, the laundry. Everything was neat and tidy, exactly in its place; everything left out on the counter, the table, the windowsills was precisely lined up. Order made her less stressed.

Then she heard something, a cry from down the street and she realised she had spent the entire day sorting her house from top to bottom. The sun was on the rise - early. The cries were German. But were too far away for her to tell what.

It was then she realised that the 5th had passed, giving way to the 6th of June.

In the early hours of June 6th, the loud gunfire started. It was not in the village, but in the distance it sounded. Perhaps this was Overlord? She was jolted awake by the noise, and guessed she'd passed out.

Her kitchen felt cold that morning, it shouldn't. It was summer. Yes it was still dark outside, save for the distant flashes. But it should be cool at the least. Not cold. But she felt cold.

Instead of putting on a jacket like a normal person, she made herself coffee, and went upstairs to begin packing as the kettle boiled.

Unfortunately, she had been given two leather suitcases, rather than a large rucksack or a bag she could wear. But she knew why, they fit her character. It did mean however she would have to put one down to shoot. An inconvenience at best, death at worst. Well at least the water had boiled.

Claudia sat at her table again, the cafetière in front of her. And she waited, albeit very impatiently, the four minutes for her coffee. Her hands shook as she poured some into a cup.

They were late. The letter said they'd relieve her yesterday. She prayed that the Germans would be too occupied with whatever they were shouting about, probably the distant gunfire, to remember their suspicion. If they remembered, they'd surely kill her. Make an example out of her. This is what happens to spies.

She'd die a Martyr, doing and fighting for what she believed in - her country. She'd never find her way home, just another body. Her family would never know, she'd never find out where her mother went, nor would she ever find her brother.

The cup smashed.

There was scalding coffee everywhere.

"Merde!"

The tablecloth, the floor, her hand.

Claudia shoved her hand under the tap, and watched with dismay as the coffee seeped into her white tablecloth.

Her hand sufficiently frozen, she turned off the tap and fetched the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink. After sweeping up the broken cup, she bundled up the tablecloth and put it out of sight, fetching a new one as she went.

Having recovered the table, she retrieved the letter from her apron hung behind the door and poured herself another cup of coffee.

It was there she sat, absentmindedly sipping coffee as she studied the letter for hours. When the shouting started and the gunfire sounded closer, she flinched and looked at the clock. Midmorning. She grabbed the gun from under the table, and held it in her lap with her right hand, having moved her cold coffee to the other hand.

Sipping as she had been prior, not even noticing it was cold, Claudia read and reread the letter over and over and over. She must have missed something.