Coffee 10, Passionfruit 16 [Divide and Rule]
Title: All the little things
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide & Rule)
Flavor(s): Coffee #10 (vase), Passionfruit #16 (Sing, and the hills will answer)
Toppings/Extras: Malt - Prompt from the Hat (Julia: all the little things)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2308
Notes: 1950, Julia Graves/Edward Iveson, Amyas Harding, Diana Foyle. Warnings for mentions of blood/minor injury. (Since the other ficlet was kind of evil, here’s some accompanying fluff, and both malts, so that’s something.)
Summary: It’s the little things that add up in the end…
***
It had only been a small vase, already slightly chipped, and Julia hadn’t meant to drop it on the tiles of the kitchen floor, but she panicked over it anyway. What if, she thought, it was valuable? Or a family heirloom, something that had been his mother’s or grandmother’s? It was a silly thing to get worked up about and she knew it, but it wasn’t really the vase. She swept up the fragments and couldn’t fail to be reminded again of everything she didn’t know about Edward. It was her own fault for agreeing to such a topsy-turvy sort of marriage, she supposed. It only felt worse now because everything had been going so well lately, and suddenly here she was, tripped up by uncertainty again.
It made her stupidly nervous about confessing her crime later, when Edward was home again, and she hesitated as she made the attempt.
“Whatever is it?” asked Edward, looking apprehensive himself at her attitude. “Julia?”
She drew in her breath as she propped her elbows on the table, having cleared away the dinner things (without any further breakages). “Promise you won’t be angry.”
“Well, that’s not very reassuring,” he said. “You know, if you’ve spent your afternoon robbing a bank, you had better confess and see if I can help you with an alibi.”
Julia laughed. “I’m saving that for tomorrow. I’m just terribly afraid that I broke the vase from the sitting room.”
“Is there one?” he asked, looking blank.
She pulled a rueful face. “There was. I am sorry. I’ll see if I can find another like it -” She stopped on seeing his puzzled, almost hurt expression. “What? What is it? I really didn’t mean to, you know.”
“No, of course not,” he said, and leaned in towards her slightly. “I was just - why would you think I’d be angry over something like that?”
Julia stared down at the table. “I didn’t know,” she said, a little incoherently. “If it was valuable, I mean - or if it had belonged to the family for years.”
“No,” said Edward, beginning to look amused. “I don’t know, but I suspect it might have been in that collection of things Amy brought up before you arrived. She seemed to think there were a lot of essential small domestic items I wouldn’t have, and you would want. So, please, find another, if you like. I’d certainly trust your judgment over Amy’s!”
Julia gave him a small smile, hiding the fact that she still felt foolish and a little frustrated because he hadn’t understood what she’d meant about not knowing what it was she’d broken. She supposed she couldn’t blame him: she wasn’t entirely sure she did, either, but it wasn’t the vase, that was the thing - it was all the other unknowns it represented.
~o~
She forgot the incident first, though, it seemed. Two weeks later, Edward returned from a meeting up in Derby with a particularly pleased look on his face, and presented her with a small, green vase with white flowers painted on it.
“Oh!” she said, taking hold of it, and turning it around in her hands, as he smiled. “But I thought you went for a meeting?”
Edward gave her a grin. “I did,” he said, “but they did let us out, if only briefly. It does happen, you know. And I saw that on a stall - it’s nothing very much. So, you see, you needn’t worry about breaking this one, either.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking things,” said Julia, but she stretched up and kissed him. “There’s no need to make it sound as if I do. And I would mind, because it’s perfect. Thank you!”
He kissed her in return, but then pulled back suddenly. “Oh,” he said. “I should have thought, shouldn’t I? I should have bought something to put in it while I was at the station.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” said Julia, patting his arm. “I’ve been thinking of climbing over the wall and stealing next door’s Sweet Williams, anyway. It’ll give me something to do if I get bored.”
Edward gave her an uncertain look, but said, “Well, I promise - next time I will.”
~o~
Next time Edward had to go away, it was for a week, to Germany. He was Parliamentary Secretary to Mr Morley, the Foreign Secretary, so it wasn’t surprising, Julia knew that. She found, though, that she minded it far more than she had expected. It wasn’t so much his being away as the leave-taking itself. The last time she’d said farewell to anyone she cared about, going to the continent like this, it had been final. On wishing Edward a good trip (and of course demanding that next time she should be allowed to go with him), she discovered an irrational fear on the subject that she forced herself to hide until he’d left.
Having the house to herself was of course all very well for a while, but it made for a long week and a bit. Admit it, Julia said to herself, you’re turning into a terribly clingy wife. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.
She thought about it, and decided she wasn’t, or at least, not very much.
He came home earlier than she’d expected, however, turning up on the Thursday evening when he wasn’t supposed to be back until Friday lunchtime at least. On seeing him enter, Julia jumped up from her chair. “Edward!” she said, catching hold of him, and then stretching up to put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him.
“Julia,” he said, in warning, pushing her away gently. “Julia.”
She drew back herself, hurt, but saw then that Mr Harding had come into the room behind Edward. “Oh!” she said, and then did her best to recover her self-possession, moving forwards to shake Harding’s hand. “Mr Harding. How very nice to see you.”
“Oh, don’t I get the same welcome?” he countered with a smile. “No?”
Julia smiled back. “No, certainly not. Would you like anything to drink - tea - coffee - something stronger?”
“I think a cup of tea would be quite sufficient for the moment,” Harding said.
Julia fled, annoyed with herself. She had, she thought, been doing so well at playing at being a very model of a political hostess, but throwing herself at her husband in front of a member of the Cabinet must definitely damage that performance. She hid in the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil instead, caught between trying not to laugh and hoping that Edward wasn’t annoyed.
“Julia,” said Edward, poking his head around the kitchen door. “I’m so sorry - he wanted to discuss something and I could hardly refuse -”
She smiled to herself, before she hid it, and turned around to face him. “Oh, I know, darling,” she said, crossing over to him, and smoothing down his lapel. “He followed you home and you didn’t have the heart to throw him out. But, Edward, you simply can’t keep every politician you meet.”
“Julia -”
She tried to still look innocent. “You promised me flowers,” she reminded him. “And all you bring me is the President of the Board of Trade. It really isn’t the same. I don’t think he’d go in my vase at all.”
“Julia, stop it,” Edward said, unable to help laughing. He kissed her lightly. “And he won’t be here forever, you know.”
She nodded. “Just until you’ve discussed whatever it is, however long that takes you. Don’t worry, it’s quite all right. I’ll find a book to tide me over - I’m sure there’s a copy of War and Peace somewhere about the house.” Then she let go of him. “You’d better go back before he comes looking. The tea won’t be long."
Edward came in search of her sooner than she’d expected. When she said as much, he gave her an amused look, and said, “Well, I think you did rather make Harding feel like a gooseberry.”
“Oh, dear,” said Julia, but not very repentantly. She smiled upwards at him. “I’m so sorry.”
Edward laughed and leant over to take the book from her. “From what I hear, it’ll be a novel sensation for him. I wouldn’t worry.” He glanced at the cover of the book. “And this - this isn’t War and Peace.”
“I was feeling optimistic after all,” said Julia.
He passed the book back, and then held out a hand to her, and when she took it, helped her to stand up on the seat of the sofa. “Now, what was it you wanted to say to me?”
“Oh, yes,” said Julia, putting her arms around him. “Ned, where are my flowers?”
~o~
Julia leant back against the wall, and, as Colonel North walked past, caught gratefully at his arm. “Oh, Colonel, would you fetch Edward for me? I’m afraid I don’t feel well.”
“My dear,” said the Colonel, and instantly ushered her across to a chair. “Of course! You’ll be all right there for a bit, yes?”
Julia nodded, and the Colonel told her she was a good girl, and then gallantly gave her his brandy before departing. She rather wished he hadn’t, feeling both shaken and silly, holding onto the glass and wanting to put it down. To her relief, though, nobody else was looking at her at least. It seemed whole ages, though, before she heard the Colonel’s voice again, and the next moment, Edward was there.
He took the glass away, and then sat down beside her, taking hold of her hands, which caused her to have to bite her lip at the unexpected pain. Edward drew back a little. “It’s all right,” he said, without asking questions. Her reaction had probably alerted him to the fact that she hadn’t just gone down with the influenza or something similar. “I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you,” she said, letting him help her up. “It isn’t anything much, but I really think that would be best.”
The Colonel had evidently also told their hostess, as Diana Foyle bore down on them as they reached the hallway. “Here’s her coat,” Diana said, passing it over, without any further comment. “And I commandeered the cab at the door for you.”
“You shouldn’t have,” said Edward, with his arm still round Julia. “She’s just a little under the weather, I think.”
“Making a silly fuss,” Julia agreed.
Out in the car, Edward looked at her. “Julia, what is it? What happened?”
She found she didn’t really feel up to explaining it all, so she pulled up the sleeve of her dress, revealing a bandage that must have been applied rather inexpertly, as the blood seeping through now that the wound had started bleeding again. It had all been all right, she thought, until somebody had knocked into her.
“Julia!” he said. “Don’t try to tell me you did that at the party.”
She shook her head, leaning against him. “I’ll explain when we get home. I’ll be fine then.”
“Excuse me,” said Edward, as he leant forwards to speak to the driver. “Where’s the nearest hospital with a casualty department? That’s where we need to go, thank you.”
Julia shook her head at him in alarm.
“Don’t be silly,” Edward told her. “Now, what happened? Did somebody do this?”
She’d gone out to meet her contact for only the second time since she’d been back in England. She met the man at the headquarters of a charity based up in North London, since it seemed like a good cover. There’d been trouble outside and somebody had flung a brick through the window, and she’d been unlucky enough to be caught by some of the fragments, putting up her hand to cover her face. She knew espionage was supposed to dangerous, but it wasn’t even that - nobody could have known; it was just stupid bad luck. “There was glass,” she said, sounding as vague as she was feeling. She found she was leaning against him once more. “And somebody there helped, but my - someone thought I should go before the police arrived. And it was all fine until someone was clumsy this evening. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“The doctor won’t know how it happened and I don’t suppose it would give anything away if he did,” said Edward. “But if you’re worried, just tell him you broke something.”
Julia had to smile and said, weakly, “What, a vase? Unlikely story.”
“Something like that,” said Edward, and she could hear the smile in his voice in return. He put his arm around her carefully, as he kissed her hair. “You should be more careful.”
The doctor, when they saw him, was of the reassuring opinion that what was chiefly wrong with her was the shock more than the injury, though he did tell her that whoever had patched her up earlier didn’t seem to have known what they were doing, extracted a remaining glass splinter, and told her off for leaving it so long and for going to a party, which Julia felt was unnecessary by that point. The nurse then bandaged the arm properly for her, and the doctor finished by telling her that it was all nothing to worry about, but she should at least try to rest the arm for the next day or so. “You’ll have to make the tea, Mr Iveson,” he told Edward, with ponderous humour.
“I’m sure I shall be equal to the occasion,” said Edward, and the deceptive solemnity in his voice warned Julia to avoid looking at him if she didn’t want to offend the doctor by laughing.
The next day, Edward returned at lunch time with flowers. Julia thanked him and admired them properly, but then looked up at him. “They’re very nice,” she said, “but I don’t have to make a blood sacrifice every time, do I?”
***
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide & Rule)
Flavor(s): Coffee #10 (vase), Passionfruit #16 (Sing, and the hills will answer)
Toppings/Extras: Malt - Prompt from the Hat (Julia: all the little things)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2308
Notes: 1950, Julia Graves/Edward Iveson, Amyas Harding, Diana Foyle. Warnings for mentions of blood/minor injury. (Since the other ficlet was kind of evil, here’s some accompanying fluff, and both malts, so that’s something.)
Summary: It’s the little things that add up in the end…
***
It had only been a small vase, already slightly chipped, and Julia hadn’t meant to drop it on the tiles of the kitchen floor, but she panicked over it anyway. What if, she thought, it was valuable? Or a family heirloom, something that had been his mother’s or grandmother’s? It was a silly thing to get worked up about and she knew it, but it wasn’t really the vase. She swept up the fragments and couldn’t fail to be reminded again of everything she didn’t know about Edward. It was her own fault for agreeing to such a topsy-turvy sort of marriage, she supposed. It only felt worse now because everything had been going so well lately, and suddenly here she was, tripped up by uncertainty again.
It made her stupidly nervous about confessing her crime later, when Edward was home again, and she hesitated as she made the attempt.
“Whatever is it?” asked Edward, looking apprehensive himself at her attitude. “Julia?”
She drew in her breath as she propped her elbows on the table, having cleared away the dinner things (without any further breakages). “Promise you won’t be angry.”
“Well, that’s not very reassuring,” he said. “You know, if you’ve spent your afternoon robbing a bank, you had better confess and see if I can help you with an alibi.”
Julia laughed. “I’m saving that for tomorrow. I’m just terribly afraid that I broke the vase from the sitting room.”
“Is there one?” he asked, looking blank.
She pulled a rueful face. “There was. I am sorry. I’ll see if I can find another like it -” She stopped on seeing his puzzled, almost hurt expression. “What? What is it? I really didn’t mean to, you know.”
“No, of course not,” he said, and leaned in towards her slightly. “I was just - why would you think I’d be angry over something like that?”
Julia stared down at the table. “I didn’t know,” she said, a little incoherently. “If it was valuable, I mean - or if it had belonged to the family for years.”
“No,” said Edward, beginning to look amused. “I don’t know, but I suspect it might have been in that collection of things Amy brought up before you arrived. She seemed to think there were a lot of essential small domestic items I wouldn’t have, and you would want. So, please, find another, if you like. I’d certainly trust your judgment over Amy’s!”
Julia gave him a small smile, hiding the fact that she still felt foolish and a little frustrated because he hadn’t understood what she’d meant about not knowing what it was she’d broken. She supposed she couldn’t blame him: she wasn’t entirely sure she did, either, but it wasn’t the vase, that was the thing - it was all the other unknowns it represented.
~o~
She forgot the incident first, though, it seemed. Two weeks later, Edward returned from a meeting up in Derby with a particularly pleased look on his face, and presented her with a small, green vase with white flowers painted on it.
“Oh!” she said, taking hold of it, and turning it around in her hands, as he smiled. “But I thought you went for a meeting?”
Edward gave her a grin. “I did,” he said, “but they did let us out, if only briefly. It does happen, you know. And I saw that on a stall - it’s nothing very much. So, you see, you needn’t worry about breaking this one, either.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking things,” said Julia, but she stretched up and kissed him. “There’s no need to make it sound as if I do. And I would mind, because it’s perfect. Thank you!”
He kissed her in return, but then pulled back suddenly. “Oh,” he said. “I should have thought, shouldn’t I? I should have bought something to put in it while I was at the station.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” said Julia, patting his arm. “I’ve been thinking of climbing over the wall and stealing next door’s Sweet Williams, anyway. It’ll give me something to do if I get bored.”
Edward gave her an uncertain look, but said, “Well, I promise - next time I will.”
~o~
Next time Edward had to go away, it was for a week, to Germany. He was Parliamentary Secretary to Mr Morley, the Foreign Secretary, so it wasn’t surprising, Julia knew that. She found, though, that she minded it far more than she had expected. It wasn’t so much his being away as the leave-taking itself. The last time she’d said farewell to anyone she cared about, going to the continent like this, it had been final. On wishing Edward a good trip (and of course demanding that next time she should be allowed to go with him), she discovered an irrational fear on the subject that she forced herself to hide until he’d left.
Having the house to herself was of course all very well for a while, but it made for a long week and a bit. Admit it, Julia said to herself, you’re turning into a terribly clingy wife. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.
She thought about it, and decided she wasn’t, or at least, not very much.
He came home earlier than she’d expected, however, turning up on the Thursday evening when he wasn’t supposed to be back until Friday lunchtime at least. On seeing him enter, Julia jumped up from her chair. “Edward!” she said, catching hold of him, and then stretching up to put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him.
“Julia,” he said, in warning, pushing her away gently. “Julia.”
She drew back herself, hurt, but saw then that Mr Harding had come into the room behind Edward. “Oh!” she said, and then did her best to recover her self-possession, moving forwards to shake Harding’s hand. “Mr Harding. How very nice to see you.”
“Oh, don’t I get the same welcome?” he countered with a smile. “No?”
Julia smiled back. “No, certainly not. Would you like anything to drink - tea - coffee - something stronger?”
“I think a cup of tea would be quite sufficient for the moment,” Harding said.
Julia fled, annoyed with herself. She had, she thought, been doing so well at playing at being a very model of a political hostess, but throwing herself at her husband in front of a member of the Cabinet must definitely damage that performance. She hid in the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil instead, caught between trying not to laugh and hoping that Edward wasn’t annoyed.
“Julia,” said Edward, poking his head around the kitchen door. “I’m so sorry - he wanted to discuss something and I could hardly refuse -”
She smiled to herself, before she hid it, and turned around to face him. “Oh, I know, darling,” she said, crossing over to him, and smoothing down his lapel. “He followed you home and you didn’t have the heart to throw him out. But, Edward, you simply can’t keep every politician you meet.”
“Julia -”
She tried to still look innocent. “You promised me flowers,” she reminded him. “And all you bring me is the President of the Board of Trade. It really isn’t the same. I don’t think he’d go in my vase at all.”
“Julia, stop it,” Edward said, unable to help laughing. He kissed her lightly. “And he won’t be here forever, you know.”
She nodded. “Just until you’ve discussed whatever it is, however long that takes you. Don’t worry, it’s quite all right. I’ll find a book to tide me over - I’m sure there’s a copy of War and Peace somewhere about the house.” Then she let go of him. “You’d better go back before he comes looking. The tea won’t be long."
Edward came in search of her sooner than she’d expected. When she said as much, he gave her an amused look, and said, “Well, I think you did rather make Harding feel like a gooseberry.”
“Oh, dear,” said Julia, but not very repentantly. She smiled upwards at him. “I’m so sorry.”
Edward laughed and leant over to take the book from her. “From what I hear, it’ll be a novel sensation for him. I wouldn’t worry.” He glanced at the cover of the book. “And this - this isn’t War and Peace.”
“I was feeling optimistic after all,” said Julia.
He passed the book back, and then held out a hand to her, and when she took it, helped her to stand up on the seat of the sofa. “Now, what was it you wanted to say to me?”
“Oh, yes,” said Julia, putting her arms around him. “Ned, where are my flowers?”
~o~
Julia leant back against the wall, and, as Colonel North walked past, caught gratefully at his arm. “Oh, Colonel, would you fetch Edward for me? I’m afraid I don’t feel well.”
“My dear,” said the Colonel, and instantly ushered her across to a chair. “Of course! You’ll be all right there for a bit, yes?”
Julia nodded, and the Colonel told her she was a good girl, and then gallantly gave her his brandy before departing. She rather wished he hadn’t, feeling both shaken and silly, holding onto the glass and wanting to put it down. To her relief, though, nobody else was looking at her at least. It seemed whole ages, though, before she heard the Colonel’s voice again, and the next moment, Edward was there.
He took the glass away, and then sat down beside her, taking hold of her hands, which caused her to have to bite her lip at the unexpected pain. Edward drew back a little. “It’s all right,” he said, without asking questions. Her reaction had probably alerted him to the fact that she hadn’t just gone down with the influenza or something similar. “I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you,” she said, letting him help her up. “It isn’t anything much, but I really think that would be best.”
The Colonel had evidently also told their hostess, as Diana Foyle bore down on them as they reached the hallway. “Here’s her coat,” Diana said, passing it over, without any further comment. “And I commandeered the cab at the door for you.”
“You shouldn’t have,” said Edward, with his arm still round Julia. “She’s just a little under the weather, I think.”
“Making a silly fuss,” Julia agreed.
Out in the car, Edward looked at her. “Julia, what is it? What happened?”
She found she didn’t really feel up to explaining it all, so she pulled up the sleeve of her dress, revealing a bandage that must have been applied rather inexpertly, as the blood seeping through now that the wound had started bleeding again. It had all been all right, she thought, until somebody had knocked into her.
“Julia!” he said. “Don’t try to tell me you did that at the party.”
She shook her head, leaning against him. “I’ll explain when we get home. I’ll be fine then.”
“Excuse me,” said Edward, as he leant forwards to speak to the driver. “Where’s the nearest hospital with a casualty department? That’s where we need to go, thank you.”
Julia shook her head at him in alarm.
“Don’t be silly,” Edward told her. “Now, what happened? Did somebody do this?”
She’d gone out to meet her contact for only the second time since she’d been back in England. She met the man at the headquarters of a charity based up in North London, since it seemed like a good cover. There’d been trouble outside and somebody had flung a brick through the window, and she’d been unlucky enough to be caught by some of the fragments, putting up her hand to cover her face. She knew espionage was supposed to dangerous, but it wasn’t even that - nobody could have known; it was just stupid bad luck. “There was glass,” she said, sounding as vague as she was feeling. She found she was leaning against him once more. “And somebody there helped, but my - someone thought I should go before the police arrived. And it was all fine until someone was clumsy this evening. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“The doctor won’t know how it happened and I don’t suppose it would give anything away if he did,” said Edward. “But if you’re worried, just tell him you broke something.”
Julia had to smile and said, weakly, “What, a vase? Unlikely story.”
“Something like that,” said Edward, and she could hear the smile in his voice in return. He put his arm around her carefully, as he kissed her hair. “You should be more careful.”
The doctor, when they saw him, was of the reassuring opinion that what was chiefly wrong with her was the shock more than the injury, though he did tell her that whoever had patched her up earlier didn’t seem to have known what they were doing, extracted a remaining glass splinter, and told her off for leaving it so long and for going to a party, which Julia felt was unnecessary by that point. The nurse then bandaged the arm properly for her, and the doctor finished by telling her that it was all nothing to worry about, but she should at least try to rest the arm for the next day or so. “You’ll have to make the tea, Mr Iveson,” he told Edward, with ponderous humour.
“I’m sure I shall be equal to the occasion,” said Edward, and the deceptive solemnity in his voice warned Julia to avoid looking at him if she didn’t want to offend the doctor by laughing.
The next day, Edward returned at lunch time with flowers. Julia thanked him and admired them properly, but then looked up at him. “They’re very nice,” she said, “but I don’t have to make a blood sacrifice every time, do I?”
***