InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "WHOOAAA I NEVER MEANT TO BRAG"

Lucy Thatcher (paperlucy) wrote in la_vie_rpg,
@ 2008-04-01 14:25:00

Who: Nicholas and Lucy.
Where: An obscure cafe on a narrow side street.
When: 1 April 1841
What: Lucy finds comfort in meeting a fellow Briton.
Rating: PG? idk.

"Bloody hell," Lucy muttered under her breath as she crossed the street. She had almost stepped in a large puddle of mud. Instead of watching her steps, she had been squinting after one of the newer Nazi vehicles headed away from her down the street. Lucy's stomach lurched; the smell was horrible. Apparently the Germans had been working on a new fuel source that was being imported from Germany. Lucy had heard several people complaining in rapid French last night at the restaurant where she had eaten a meager dinner. No one seemed to know what the fuel was or why it smelled. She was going to work on that.

The weather had warmed considerably over the past couple of weeks and most of the ice and snow had started to melt, leaving small mud ponds in the middle of streets and sidewalks. Spring was coming and Lucy couldn't help but feel a little homesick. Springtime was her favourite back home. If she was at her flat in London, her windows would be open and she would be heading for weekend holidays in the country. Of course, probably not now, not with the Germans bombing the hell out of England. But it was still nice to reminisce.

Lucy slipped down a small side street off of a main boulevard. It was considerably wetter and dank-smelling in the alleyway because the sun didn't shine there as often. She reached her destination and pushed the door open. The room she stepped into was even darker than the alleyway. It was filled with thick smoke, both from cigarettes and another source she couldn't place. There were a few people sitting at small tables drinking various beverages, but most of them were too caught up in their own business to take any notice of the tall blond. A short, stocky man -- the proprietor -- nodded toward her in recognition and greeting. Lucy had found the small cafe a couple of weeks ago by sheer accident. In order to avoid a Nazi officer heading toward her (she didn't like to deal with them if she didn't have to), she had hurried into the alley and kept going until she reached a place to have a sit-down. She liked the mystery of it and it was a good place to think, go over notes, and write. Lucy headed toward a table in the front corner of the building, sitting down and ordering a cup of tea before lighting a cigarette.

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endofnight
2008-04-01 07:14 pm UTC (link)

Nicholas - never Nick, because who needs a nickname for an alias, anyway? - had found the cafe a couple of days ago. It was infinitely helpful that he lived close by, and the cafe was preferable to his own cramped flat. Anyway, a book and a cup of tea out of the way of kitten's claws and the feeling that he was being crushed by sheer gravity and lack of space was always a welcome respite.

He'd only been in Paris for a few days, and already it reminded him strongly of a washed-out black and white photograph. The colours were muted and the shadows deep, and the occupation utter. A painting that someone had done up while very depressed, obviously.

Also, the tea was not nearly as good here as it was back home. He thought he would have to wait until he was back in London - if he made it, if London made it - to get a decent cuppa. Irritating, but not fatal.

He had a book with him, and had settled into a table by the window with his book - a copy of some poems he'd been fond of, brought with to stave off long nights and grim work. In English, of course, because if he had to read anymore French than the papers and street signs he thought he'd go mad - nothing against the French, of course, but he did rather miss home.

The book was open to a familiar poem, written in his own hand, as all of them were. "They that had fought so well / Came through the jaws of Death / Back from the mouth of Hell." Tennyson, he reflected.

Smart man.

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paperlucy
2008-04-01 07:43 pm UTC (link)

Lucy was curious by nature and, even though no one else bothered to move, looked up when the door opened to see who came through it. It was a man she had never seen in the cafe before; he was tall with dark hair and handsome features. Lucy studied his face for a moment. While she had never seen him in the cafe, she was sure she recognized him from somewhere. Wracking her brain, Lucy turned her gaze to her teacup -- it wouldn't do to have him catch her staring. Where had she seen that man? Articles and photos from the Times flashed through her brain at a fast pace.. he wasn't a businessman, he hadn't been on the football teams.. suddenly a picture appeared in her mind's eye next to a short snippet about a man receiving recognition for his services to the British government. This was him.

Her heart fluttered with the prospect of talking to someone from home, someone who spoke good English and who didn't balk at her horrendous French accent. The distance between their tables was very short, only a couple of feet, so Lucy only had to lean over a bit to address him.

"Excuse me," she started. "But I think I might know you."

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endofnight
2008-04-02 03:08 am UTC (link)

He had noticed the blond woman, though only peripherally been aware of her until she spoke. When she did, he looked up, raising an eyebrow at her remark. Someone he knew? Well, she was British, like him, that much was obvious from her voice and her actual grasp of the English language (some in Paris were not so blessed), but he couldn't remember ever having seen her before.

"Do you? I'm afraid I can't say the same." He smiled, leaning his elbows on the table to lean forward a bit, to talk to her without being too easily overheard. One must always be conscious, in places and times like this, not to be overheard.

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paperlucy
2008-04-02 03:40 am UTC (link)

"Yes.. your picture, it was in the Times. I'm a reporter," she explained. "And even if I'm mistaken, which I'm almost certain I'm not, then let me just tell you how deliciously wonderful your English is." Lucy gave a small grin, wondering if the man was sick of French as well.

"My name's Lucy Thatcher." She extended her arm over the small space to his table, holding out her hand.

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	endofnight 2008-04-02 05:30 am UTC (link)
	"The Times-- oh, right! I remember that." He grinned, shook his head. "You've got a good memory for mundane news stories. I'm Nicholas Deacon," He took her hand for a brief shake, adding, "It's unbelievably good to meet you. I haven't met anyone else who spoke clear English since I got here." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

paperlucy
2008-04-02 01:36 pm UTC (link)

She grinned. "I remember the most ridiculous things sometimes."

"I know exactly what you mean," Lucy commiserated, inching her chair a bit closer so they could talk comfortably without being overheard. "My French is horrible and I don't know a bit of German." She offered him a cigarette before continuing; it was just so lovely to be speaking English to an English person that she could hardly contain every thought from bursting out of her mouth.

"Where in England are you from, if you don't mind my asking?" Perhaps it was because she was so used to asking questions, but some people called her nosy. Hopefully Nicholas didn't think so.

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endofnight
2008-04-05 02:40 pm UTC (link)

[[OOC: I'm so, so sorry I haven't posted to this thread. xx; I forgot about it in the last moments of midterms. Back now. .__.;; ]]

Nicholas smiled, nodded - understanding of her language problems even if he didn't presently have them himself. He only had to remember back a few years, before he'd learned French and, naturally, he had to work with a Frenchman who knew about two words of English ("yes" and, if he remembered correctly, "biscuit"). He shook his head at the offered cigarette with a, "No, thanks, I don't." Never had gotten into that habit.

The questions didn't quite strike him as nosy - or maybe the reason they didn't was because he was so used to hearing them. Being a spy and all helped one get accustomed quickly to interrogations, and this was infinitely more pleasant than the ones the Germans occasionally hauled him in for. "London," he replied cheerfully. "South London, to that end. Yourself?"

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paperlucy
2008-04-05 04:39 pm UTC (link)

[[No worries! I can totally relate, haha.]]

Lucy shrugged and closed the gold cigarette case, a present from her brother when she finished university. She leaned back in her chair a bit, feeling more comfortable now. "Grew up in Henley," she said, "but moved to London after I finished school. I'm in West London."

The blond sipped her tea, pausing for a moment. "I'm with the Times," she finally finished, deciding that she could trust a fellow countryman.

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endofnight
2008-04-05 05:09 pm UTC (link)

"Ah. Different part of the city altogether, then." He nodded, understanding. Took a sip of his own tea and used the very best of his secret agent training (you try going through SOE training and not coming out thinking you're Sherlock Holmes, especially if you've got that coat - he did not, regrettably, have the hat) to refrain from grimacing at the taste, which was... well, less than refined. He preferred the tea back home. Ah, well, it would wait for him. Hopefully.

"The Times, really?" That certainly for his attention. Not just anyone who happened to be from home, then. "That explains why you'd remember that old article," he mused aloud.

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paperlucy
2008-04-05 05:28 pm UTC (link)

Lucy laughed a little, nodding. "Yes, I suppose that makes me sound much less like a madwoman now you know I work for the paper." She wished she had mentioned it earlier before telling Nicholas where she had recognized him from. She had been so excited for company that she didn't realize how insane she probably sounded.

"They've sent me here to cover the occupation." Her voice was quiet again, almost a whisper. "The Germans, they know I'm here, but they're not too happy about it. Been going round their offices almost every day trying to get a word with even the lowest ranking Nazi. Apparently so are a handful of other newspapers. I spoke with an American chap outside their building a week ago, but I haven't seen him since." Lucy didn't want to say what she thought happened to the short balding man with the kind face, partly because one of her biggest fears was being taken away herself.

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endofnight
2008-04-05 06:04 pm UTC (link)

"Oh, not a madwoman, just curious - I'm used to it, I think. Apparently I'm a bit odd." He smiled, but the smile faltered and faded at her next words, and he nodded, suddenly grave. "I'd be careful about that, if I were you," his words a whisper, and he fought the instinct to tell her why he was there, but that would only put her in greater danger, and he thought he rather liked her. Didn't want to get her killed. "Might want to cover the civilian angle, if you know what I mean. The Germans are just a bit tetchy on the whole issue. Don't like answering questions."

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paperlucy
2008-04-05 06:56 pm UTC (link)

"Not odd, interesting!" she replied. "At any rate, I've been doing a bit of interviews with civilians. Not many of them want to speak to me either." Lucy's voice was understanding; she knew not many people were willing to risk their lives in order to give an interview to a paper across the Channel. "It's actually a bit disheartening. I know that they want to protect themselves and their friends and family -- hell, I would too -- but it's just a little sad none of them are willing to fight." Lucy shrugged, draining her cup. "But that's dreadfully depressing stuff, and I'm tired of being depressed all of the time. Have you just arrived from London?"

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endofnight
2008-04-05 08:26 pm UTC (link)

"Right, they won't want to - risking themselves, it's not worth it." He paused, taking a sip of his tea as he thought. Finally asking, in a tone more thoughtful than certain (though he was certain), "Maybe they are willing to fight. Hard to say, isn't it? They're hardly going to tell anyone..." He tried to make it sound as if it were mere speculation.

Her last question made him shrug. "A bit ago... two weeks now, I think. Got myself a flat and everything. What about you?"

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paperlucy
2008-04-05 08:31 pm UTC (link)

"Maybe," Lucy admitted. Nicholas did have a point. They weren't exactly just going to come out and say they were planning on an uprise against the Germans. Maybe she would just have to find out for herself.

"Since before Christmas," she replied ruefully with a frown. "It's been a very long five months." She thought of her mother and father back home. "How are the state of things in England? Are they very bad? Of course I know about the bombings but.." she trailed off.

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endofnight
2008-04-05 09:19 pm UTC (link)

"I'll bet it has," he agreed sympathetically - it had been a very long two weeks, he couldn't imagine five months of this. He had to think a moment to answer her questions, ending up with a slightly lame, "Well, it's not... good, but it could be worse. I was out of London weeks ago for a bit of a crash-course in language for coming here, but when I left.." He shrugged. He hadn't any contacts in London anymore, so he was guessing.

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paperlucy
2008-04-05 09:39 pm UTC (link)

Lucy didn't really know what she was expecting the answer to be. She had heard about what was going on back home and it was foolish of her to hope things had changed. At least her parents weren't in London, and who knew were James was, but it was probably much worse for him.

"Well if you don't mind my saying," she started. "I think that we should be friends. After all, I've been going mad without someone proper to talk to." She grinned.

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	endofnight 2008-04-05 09:45 pm UTC (link)
	He paused at that, having been mid-sip of tea at the time, but smiled once he'd set the cup down again. "I think I'd like that. And as you say, someone to talk English to, finally." It was a bit risky, befriending a reporter in his line of work, but that had never stopped Nicholas in the past. "That sounds like a good plan." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

paperlucy
2008-04-05 09:56 pm UTC (link)

"Lovely!" Lucy said. "I really am tired of walking around every day trying to get people to talk to me. This will be a nice break." She gave a little laugh before looking at her watch. "Oh, I really must go. Have to get to the post office before it closes and send a few letters. It's was very nice meeting you, Nicholas." Lucy tossed a couple of Reichmarks on the table before scribbling her address in her notebook and ripping it out for him. "You can find me here if you'd like. I'm afraid I don't have a telephone. If I'm not at home just slip a note under the door." She smiled and put on her hat. "Bye!" Lucy left the cafe in a rush, hoping she wasn't too late.

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