3rd August, late night indoors

Charcot could barely remember what he was talking about. Oh. The British soldiers shouting at them? None of that mattered now. He had a plan. "Paol, I'm going to join the Spanish army. Do you want to come? And when I get home, I'm going to be a glue merchant." It all made sense. Lise would marry butcher François, and Charcot would go and live with them. He could start by selling straight out of the butcher shop. It was perfect.

Paol swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat. "Yeah, mate," he said hoarsely, "I'd like that."

Charcot's sweet smile beamed, audible in his voice if barely visible in the dark. "Really? So you'll come? I need to find a priest too." He could not quite remember the reason why, but he knew it was a vital part of the plan.

"Course I'll come," he said, and felt the tears spill over and down his cheeks. "But tomorrow, yeah? You should try to rest now."

"Oh, I'm so glad," Charcot said. Then on impulse he wrapped his arms around his friend, careful by now to avoid his burned arm and injured shoulder blade. "I'm so glad, thank you, Paol!"

Paol fumbled awkwardly to return the embrace, his breath catching painfully in his throat as each successive expression of gratitude drove itself home like a knife. He tightened his hold on Charcot, dragging in a deep, slow breath, then let go and pulled away. "Get some sleep, Dominic."

Sleep. Yes. He could finally enjoy a peaceful night's sleep in his bed now that everything was sorted out. "You too. Good night, Paol."

"Good night." He hunched over the side of the bed, his good arm resting across his knees, trying desperately to push everything that had just happened out of his mind. He couldn't afford to feel regret or guilt or loss. If he was going to do this, he couldn't feel anything. It had to be done coldly and brutally, and just thinking about it now made him sick.

Did he have it wrong? Had he missed something? He went over all his arguments again in his head. Then a second and a third time, always with the same result.

He glanced up; it was still dark outside the window, but there was a greyness to it which hinted at the dawn. He needed to go soon, before the women were up.

The sounds of the argument downstairs had faded, though he was not sure how long it had been. He would wait a little longer, just to be sure.