Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ２３ － Ｗｏｏｌ】

Chapter 23 - Wool

She couldn't stop smiling. Her face hurt but even then she couldn't stop.

Bull was waiting outside for her, and was concerned at her squeal, but then he saw her smile.

"They believed me! Can you believe it?! They trust me!"

"Well why wouldn't they?"

If it was even possible, her smile widened, and she hopscotched along as they walked towards a vehicle – Margaret didn't know what it was, truck or car? – and Bull chuckled at her antics. She was like a child.

And she was really – Margaret that is, after being suppressed for years, because now she was allowed out, to be herself.

"Well, Sergeant Randleman, my job means that, by definition, I am not trustworthy. And they were so kind too, and after I was such a bitch to them too, to all of you – though that wasn't really me me, but Genesis. Doing my job y'know. If you didn't like me, you wouldn't get close to me so you wouldn't know anything about me, so if the Gestapo caught wind that you knew me and took you in for questionin' I'd be safer."

"Take a breath, why dontcha?"

She giggled, but did.

Oh she was so giddy, she felt like she could talk for hours, is this what being trusted usually felt like? Was this friendship? No. Probably not but she couldn't tell. When'd she last had a friend? Well there was her brother but did he count?

The more she talked the more Bull noticed her slipping from "Queen's English", and he s'posed that she had to speak proper when she was spying. So here he was, faced with the real Margaret and she was overwhelmingly happy today.

The drive to her farm took...just under an hour. It might've taken less time if she hadn't been so poor at giving directions. To be fair, she'd never been thinking about where she was going on the bus, and she'd only taken the route 3 times.

"Apple Tree Farm. Cute."

"You won't be saying that when you see it, it's in shambles. There's probably a million cuter Apple Tree's in England."

Margaret fell quiet, and then she saw the house. It was like all the words had been knocked out of her. She was still stunned to be home. It was just so...so... unprecedented, she had no idea how to deal with being home because she'd spent so much of her life wishing to be there – and suddenly there she was. Home.

For the third time, she was reaching through the letterbox to unlock the door.

The house was dark. But not dusty. No. Certainly not. She left Bull in the dark kitchen, disappeared through the back door and let light into the large room. When she came back, she asked him to remind her to shut the shutters again before they left.

"I'm afraid I have nothing for you to eat or drink, uh, I'll be...I don't know how long I'll be."

"You'll want this."

"Oh. Yes. Can't go about blending in with a brown leather suitcase now can I?"

She took the duffel and scampered up the stairs.

Into the bag she put all of the underwear she had – from one of her suitcases as she still hadn't unpacked. Then she put in some of her regular clothes, sturdy trousers, jumpers, and a few feminine outfits, before deciding to take everything out and put her clothes at the bottom. She had to at least try to blend in.

Then there was her bathroom things, and all the tampons, as well as some menstrual cloths.

From the bottom of her wardrobe she drew out her knitting needles, then her darning needles and thread. And against her better judgement, a slimmed down version of her sewing kit – just some threads, some needles and a pin cushion with pins, and a stitch ripper and little scissors.

She'd need something to do in her spare time. And the books, she would never take a single copy of Beatrix Potter with her. No. Her heart would break if they were damaged.

The one book she did pack was the edition of The Hobbit she'd picked up in London the year it was published. That was hers and hers alone.

Back downstairs, just 25 minutes later, she was very nearly ready to go. Bull was still standing where she'd left him, just looking around the kitchen.

"It's like home."

"Hm?"

"This."

Margaret nodded absentmindedly as she picked up a photograph, deciding not to take it with her.

"You ready to go?"

She zipped up the bag before glancing round the room, then she shook her head.

"Not really. I want to say goodbye to the girls, and walk into the village to pick up something. And shower actually."

She didn't hear his question, and was outside before he could ask again, so he followed and saw her crouching beside a chicken coop.

The shower was much quicker given that she didn't wash her hair, she washed it the day before. Her linen shirt, miraculously, was not stained, only quite wrinkled. Bull was a bit uncomfortable when she came out but she thought nothing of it.

Then Bull was helping her shut the shutters up, and they were back in the truck, but she didn't stay in it, just put her bag in, and hopped put again.

"It's only about a 3 mile round trip. I'll be back in an hour."

"Or I follow y'and pick y'up when you're done."

She couldn't help but return his smile with an equally big grin.

Margaret couldn't help but laugh as he began to dawdle behind her in the loud vehicle, and followed her all the way into the village – and only stalling once!

Thankfully the shop she was thinking of was still open and still stocked what she was after. The owner apologised for not having any of the brighter colours she was sure Margaret was after, but the dark greens and browns are just perfect.

She didn't show Bull what she'd bought, just put the bag into her duffel and hopped in.

"Shall we?"