* * *
‘I am so sorry,’ Gina whispered through tears as Guy finished telling his mother’s story.
‘Don’t say that,’ he demanded. ‘Don’t apologise. They’re just stories from old newspapers and books, they’re not the truth. They cannot be the truth.’ He was begging desperately, but the look on his face—twisted with grief almost out of recognition—made clear he believed what he had read.
Gina didn’t know what to say. The only respectful sound was silence. Guy observed it too.
After several minutes, Gina reached over and tapped Guy on the knee sympathetically. ‘Well let’s see what this Lieutenant Daniels has to say for himself. Now Guy,’ she muttered nervously, ‘you have to remember—’
‘I know,’ he interrupted with confidence, ‘it wasn’t his fault. Don’t worry; I’m not looking for a fight anymore. I just want to know.’
Cold Hard Light