Empty Streets

[Timothy Bernstein]

But really, what could he do? What was there to do? Tim stared absently into his empty glass as he made the remains of his scotch swirl at the bottom. The bartender watched him and took this a sign that a refill was required. Timothy snapped out of his thoughts only when the glass was gently taken from his hand. He looked up to see the bartender pouring him some more elixir and placing again on the bar in front of the anxious costumer. Tim managed a small thankful smile and took a sip. The bartender wondered off leaving the writer alone once more with his angst. Tim glanced at his old pocket watch. He'd been holding it for the past hour, peeking at it every few minutes.

And what really should he be worrying about? His long lost relatives who had been too stubborn to accept the help when it had been offered? There was nothing he could do for his father and brother except hope they'd avoid the gas chambers until this war ended. And how could he look for Tuomas and his family? If only he'd receive some information about their hiding place, Tim would run to their aid in any way he could. But perhaps Tuomas would be too proud to even ask for his help. Maybe what Tim really should be worrying about was the possibility of the Nazi occupying the island. It still seemed remote but perhaps not so much considering how fast Hitler had managed to grasp the better part of Europe already. Should Tim be considering running further away? To America, maybe? It certainly would be better for Robert. Just leave and accept the fact that his father and brothers were lost causes. Bloody hell.

Tim ran a hand through his thin, curly hair and took a large gulp of scotch. He glanced at his watch once more and decided it'd be better to head home and see what Robert was up to. Listen to the news for a while, eat something and get a few words on paper. Sighing and finally putting the watch where it belonged inside his pocket, Timothy got up from his seat, left a few quid on the counter and headed for the door. The streets were emptier these days. Tim let his feet take him home and stopped paying attention to where he was going.

[Lady Daniela Calandra]

It had been a long day, and Daniela made a mental note to not go to the fish market again. Ever. She had heard that fish tended to make pregnant women sick, but she had never believed that she herself could be deterred from it, as she liked fish so much. Yet, she had been proven wrong, and was now making her unsteady and queasy way home, her arms crossed over her distended stomach. She hadn't forgotten that she had come to buy some chai for her nausea from the stalls on the edge of the fish market, but she wasn't about to go anywhere near that smell again, either.

Right now, she was just trying to make her way home, which was slightly outside of town, and thankfully away from all the people and their whispering. They gave her the nastiest looks or just plain stared at her as she walked by. They were very obviously whispering about her before she even turned her back. Yes, she was Italian! No, that didn't mean she was the devil in a woman's body! For Christ's sake, she was married to a major in their army, even carrying his child, that should count for something in her favor!

So distracted and nauseous was she, that she nearly ran into the man whom also appeared to be returning to his home for the evening. "Oh, scusa," she said, giving a nervous little giggle. Even if she hadn't said 'excuse me' in Italian, her accent would have given her away, as she just wasn't trying to hide it these days. "I wasn't paying attention, mia colpa. Forgive me, sir."

[Timothy Bernstein]

The ground was dusty and Tim literally dragged his feet as he watched them stir the dirt, his hands in his pockets. The left one was clutching the pocket watch once more. The temperature had decreased significantly since that morning and a slight chill ran down his spine when a small breeze passed through his curls, forcing him to absently bury his face as deep withing the neck of his coat as he could. Still was he staring at his footsteps when his shoulder collided with someone unexpectedly.

Tim stopped and looked up, his arms instantly shooting up in reflex to try to catch the second person in case the bump had affected their balance. It wasn't necessary, though, and before he had time to find his apology, the other person, a woman, young, pretty and... pregnant... had issued one herself. Italian, Tim identified in her speech and accent and thought it likely that she was a Jewish refugee, somewhat like himself, although he'd left Vienna long before the war started. Even his German accent was regularly nonexistent. He noticed too that she seemed peaky, ill even, and felt ashamed that he'd not been more careful to look where he went.

"No.." He said somewhat dryly. Tim wasn't very good at being gentle. He could be empathic, even sensitive, but hardly ever demonstrated it. It was something he couldn't change, no matter how hard he tried, his rather cold, brusque manners. "That is, I was careless..."

Tim rubbed his temple. That was the best he could come up with. He thought perhaps he could make up for his lack of tact by showing further concern and managed a small smile that was gone in a flash.

"I'm sorry, you have a bit of an unhealthy look. Did I harm you? Is there anything I can do...?" The man nervously put his hands back in his pockets and looked worriedly at the woman.

[Lady Daniela Calandra]

Daniela smiled, waving him off. "Let us agree that it was both of our faults and neither, then." she said. It didn't matter anyway. Now that she was passed the initial surprise, she only spoke in English, as it was the polite thing to do. She was no stranger to English, as her husband was English, and she had often pretended to be an Englishwoman when she worked as a spy.

She gave a slight laugh, "Oh, no sir. I just came from the fishmarket, and," she gestured to her stomach, "As you can see, I'm not currently in a condition in which I enjoy the smell of fish." she smiled, "There's really nothing, unless you know of a place where I can sit and perhaps have a glass of water." she said.

"I was really on my way home, but I hadn't believed what other women had said about pregnancy and fish, so I walked by anyway... So silly of me. If it hadn't been for that, I would have been paying more attention to my surroundings than my stomach and I wouldn't have bumped into you." she said, rambling a bit. She'd been a long way from home for a while now, and it was starting to wear on her, but she tried to not let it show. It was hard, though, when there was only one person who seemed to think her decent and appreciated her. Everyone else just gave her dirty glares, and it bothered her a great deal, though she supposed that she could bear it. After all the things she had done against the Allies, she could bear a few scathing looks, even if their owners really had no clue that she had done those things. Every weeping woman or child she saw was a guilty pang on her heart, as she wondered if perhaps her intelligence had caused the death of a huband, or a son, or a father, or a brother.

[Timothy Bernstein]

Tim nodded slowly in comprehension. Of course, fish. Relief that he was not to blame was probably visible on his features and he actually smiled at the woman who had turned out to be quite pleasant. In Britain it was hard to find pleasant folk these days as everyone was constantly wary about an issue or other concerning the war. At the mention of the glass of water, Tim reacted instantly and jumped slightly as he turned to look at one direction and then the other. The closest place he knew was the pub he'd recently exited and wondered momentarily whether it'd be appropriate to direct a pregnant lady to such a place. Then again, it was still somewhat early and the pub had been almost completely deserted when he left it. Surely they had water.

"Ah... sure, this way, madam." Tim said. "There's a place not far from here." They started walking, him leading her in a slow pace. "That was daring of you, going to the fish market." He added seriously before listening to her brief story and smiled again. "Well, I won't argue with a hormonal woman. My name's Bernstein, by the way. Uh, Timothy."

It's not that he believed in karma, no. But it was hard not to get a sense of balance from being attentive to another human being, even if it was simply joining them for a glass of water. It didn't make up for his kin being in a threatening situation but somehow having met this lady made Tim feel a bit less anxious. Robert would snort at that.