Ghosts of War by George Mann

Author:George Mann [Mann, George]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781616143671
Publisher: Pyr
Published: 2011-07-26T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Donovan hulked behind his desk, brooding. It was too early: he needed more coffee. He dragged at the butt of his cigarette, sucking the harsh fumes down into his lungs, enjoying the sensation of the nicotine flooding into his bloodstream. Around him, the precinct was already buzzing with life.

Donovan had hardly slept. When he'd finally arrived home after the encounter with the raptors—and after staying on to brief Mullins regarding his plans for the apartment that had belonged to the missing British spy—he'd found Flora asleep on the sofa. She'd waited up for him. His dinner was in the oven, now burnt and dry.

He had gently woken her, slipped his arms beneath her, and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.

Then, unable to sleep, he had crept back down to the kitchen, where he had sat with a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of bourbon to consider everything that had occurred. It was only hours later, just before dawn, that he had climbed into bed, groggy from the tiredness and alcohol, for what amounted to a couple of hours of unsatisfactory unconsciousness.

There would be no berating from Flora when he eventually saw her later that day, however—he had left her still asleep in bed that morning, creeping out of the apartment so as not to disturb her. She had learned long ago that the life of a policeman's wife was an extraordinary one—or at least that she would have to learn to deal with an extraordinary amount of disappointment—as, when engaged with a case, Donovan was very much the absentee from the marriage.

It pained him, he thought, more than it did Flora. Not that she didn't care, but more that she had resigned herself to it, and that she accepted her husband for who and what he was—a police inspector in one of the busiest cities in the world. She was proud of him, she reminded him regularly, for standing up for what was right, for upholding justice in this most unjust of times. He loved her for that, for that unqualified faith she had in him, for seeing the goodness in him, even when he couldn't see it himself.

For his part, all Donovan wanted to do was be a better husband. He couldn't always see that, to Flora, that meant something different than simply being around. Because if he was, if he gave up everything he believed in to be by her side, he would be a lesser man in her eyes.

She'd told him that the day before their wedding, all those years ago, when he'd taken her to one side and explained that he was thinking of leaving the force. She'd taken his hand and resolutely told him that she loved him and that he had to do what he thought was right—and that she would continue to love him even when he wasn't around.

She'd been true to her word. For all those years, she'd stood by him and supported him, and never once mentioned the ruined dinners or missed dates, the late nights or the injuries.

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