Page 60 of The Shadow Code (Heroes of War #3)

T he corridor felt too warm. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was her coat or the flush rising behind her collar, but she wished the windows were open. The air had nowhere to go. ‘She admired me?’ she asked, quietly.

Lilian gave a short nod. ‘She said you were the kind of person she wanted to be. Brave, kind – and seen.’

Ellie stared past her, towards the end of the hall. She imagined Catherine still sitting there on the other side of the door, small, pale and timid as a doe.

‘I let her into my home,’ she said. ‘We were like sisters. I trusted her.’

‘I know.’

A pause.

‘She lived with me,’ Ellie whispered. ‘And all the while …’

‘She was being used,’ Lilian finished her sentence gently. ‘That doesn’t absolve her. But it explains how far lost she already was.’

Ellie turned away, eyes burning, but no tears came. She’d spent the night hollowing herself out. Now she just felt exhausted.

‘Will I see her again?’

Lilian didn’t answer right away. ‘I expect not.’

Ellie nodded once. ‘Good.’ But her chest ached anyway.

Lilian placed a hand on her arm. ‘Meet me downstairs in ten minutes. I think a breath of fresh air is required, don’t you?’

Ellie nodded, managing a thin smile as Lilian headed for the lift.

Left alone in the corridor, Ellie drifted without quite deciding to, her feet carrying her along a familiar path.

She slipped into the room where she’d worked with Inspector Calloway.

The morning light filtered through criss-crossed tape on the windows, breaking into pale bars that striped the walls and desks.

Dust danced in the beams like ash suspended mid-fall.

It looked both the same as and nothing like before.

Most of the desks were occupied by men whose faces she didn’t recognise, save a few. She spotted Calloway and one or two others, the ones who never quite believed women belonged in the force.

She passed her old desk slowly. Someone else had claimed it now; she noted the unfamiliar coat slung over the chair.

A stack of files sat in the in-tray, but she didn’t know what kind they were, and it no longer mattered.

She stood for a moment, absorbing it all.

Just long enough to say goodbye. Then a voice behind her: ‘Harcourt.’

She turned. Inspector Calloway stood a few paces away, arms folded.

‘Heard about what happened. With the device. The girl.’ He nodded once. ‘Bloody mess. Heard you handled it well.’

Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Thank you, sir.’

He looked her over. ‘You’ve got brass. Not always a compliment, mind you, but I mean it as one.’ A pause. His gaze flicked to the desk. ‘You thinking of coming back?’

‘I haven’t decided.’

He gave a small grunt. ‘Well. You’d be welcome.’

Ellie’s lips curved faintly. ‘That means a great deal. Truly.’

He gave a half-shrug, like he couldn’t bear a fuss. ‘Don’t let anyone here make you smaller than you are.’

Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shuffle of wartime policing.

It was, she knew, the closest she was ever going to get to a compliment from him.

She lingered a moment longer, letting the Yard’s atmosphere settle around her.

No ceremony. No farewell speech. Just the quiet hush of a chapter closing.

Downstairs, Lilian stood by the front door, wrapped in her long black woollen coat, leather gloves buttoned at the wrists. A lorry rattled past, soldiers pedalled by on bicycles, and on the opposite side of the road, by the Thames, a newspaper vendor shouted headlines into the wind.

‘Ready?’ Lilian asked simply.

Ellie nodded. They strolled in step, their coats flapping in the breeze, the city stretching before them in long, smoky lines.

‘Your father will be proud of you,’ Lilian said quietly.

Ellie swallowed. ‘I’m not so sure.’

‘I am. He saw what you did. He knows who you are now.’

They walked on, the city softening around them, until the war felt briefly at bay.

Ellie’s thoughts circled. What came next?

What waited beyond the safe cases and ration books and blackout drills?

One thing was clear. She’d outgrown the role of chauffeur to a Scotland Yard inspector weeks ago.

And though she didn’t say it aloud, she knew the truth now. She wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.