Name: Aftershock
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Cloudy Grey #5 (mollify)
Supplies and Styles: None.
Word Count: 1355
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some mentions of a car crash.
Notes: 1958, Edward Iveson/Julia Graves.

***

“Julia,” said Edward from somewhere close by. She blinked in confusion, still half in a dream that was already fading too fast to name, and finding herself instead lying fully clothed on the bed in the dim light of the lamp.

She turned her head. “Ned?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he murmured, sitting down on the side of the bed. He reached out a hand to touch her arm, only lightly but it was enough to set off the pain in her wrist and bring everything back with a vengeance. She let out a small cry, and clutched at her wrist.

“Honestly, Julia,” Edward said, although his irritation was muted by weariness, as he pulled his tie loose. He rubbed his head. “What are you doing?” Then he frowned, squinting at her. “Are you hurt?”

Julia hugged her arm in against her chest and half-thought about trying to deny it – whatever time it was, it was too late for fussing – but that was a lie she was hardly going to be able to get away with. She pulled herself up carefully, leaning back against the headboard. “Yes. I thought it was only a sprain, so I didn’t bother saying anything about the hospital, but I think it might be broken after all.”

“Hospital?” said Edward, looking over at her, his brow still furrowed as he removed his cuff-links. He stopped, put them on the table and turned his attention to her more fully. “Julia. I think perhaps you should start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

Julia shrugged, not wanting to think about that again. She was all right, and Mr Evans most likely would be again soon, but the driver wasn’t. She felt sick again at the thought. “But they must have told you. Even if they didn’t, didn’t you at least wonder what had happened to Mr Evans?”

“Somebody said Lewis had gone home ill,” said Edward. He pressed his fingers against his temple. “Perhaps there was more. Perhaps I didn’t listen – we were in the middle of rather a fraught international telephone call at the time.”

Julia pressed her head back against the board. “You almost always are these days, darling.”

He gave a fleeting grimace in acknowledgement. “Was there an accident? The car you and Lewis were in –?”

Julia nodded and closed her eyes.

“Good God,” said Edward. “Are you all right?”

Julia opened her eyes again, and had to laugh. “As you can see. Apart from my wrist. It didn’t seem too bad at the time, but maybe that was the shock. It did hurt, but I didn’t want to tell the doctor in case he kept me in.”

“For a broken wrist?” said Edward. “I doubt it. Julia.”

She knew it wasn’t sensible, and she gave him a brief, apologetic smile. “I know. But I couldn’t bear the idea of it, not after the last time.”

“Julia,” said Edward again, affection mingled with exasperation; a familiar tone. She couldn’t help smiling to herself. “Last time you were exhausted and you’d lost a lot of blood. You weren’t yourself.”

Julia stared ahead; it was all very well to say that, and it wasn’t untrue, but in other ways she had been perfectly well herself, and even after all this time, and no matter how rational she pretended to be about it, she just hated being away from Edward. She was fairly sure that she would never want to be in hospital again: being ill and having time with Edward sternly rationed down to visiting hours was a cruel system as far as she was concerned.

“Never mind,” said Edward. “We’ll get something fixed up for tonight and someone can drive you over first thing in the morning.” He paused, and then frowned, wondering exactly when she’d got in. She certainly hadn’t been at dinner. “You have eaten, haven’t you?”

Julia frowned; time didn’t seem to have worked in the normal way today. “Oh. No, I don’t think so. Not since. I think I had half a sandwich at the hospital.”

“Then you probably should,” said Edward. He stroked her hair. “I am sorry it’s been such a day.”

Julia turned her head towards him. “Poor Mr Evans was much worse off, and the driver –” She winced at the memory, drawing in an unsteady breath. “Oh, Ned, he was new. I don’t even know what his name was, and I keep thinking – what if it was all our fault?”

“How could it have been?” Edward said, and then understood her meaning. He leant back against the headboard beside her, weighted down by weariness. “You think it wasn’t an accident?”

Julia leant against him, looking ahead, trying to picture the scene again in her mind’s eye. “I don’t know,” she said. “It looked like it – they said the other driver was drunk, and he certainly did seem to be. But you and I were supposed to be going together, and perhaps someone didn’t realise about the change – perhaps they thought Lewis was you.”

“I don’t think it’s very likely,” said Edward. “I think if someone knew what we’d done, they’d have done something before it came to this.”

Julia couldn’t feel anything like as reassured, even though she’d seen the other driver staggering about. “You say that, but last week someone tried to shoot you and this week someone smashed their car right into mine.”

“No,” said Edward, shaking his head instantly. “That poor man wasn’t set onto me by anyone. And I doubt your driver was, either. If they had, we wouldn’t be here, certainly not me. Now, come on, enough of this. Unless you have some concrete suspicions, it’s not going to help.”

Julia breathed out again more easily and glanced at him. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” said Edward. “And, trust me, I should know.” He patted her shoulder and moved to sit back on the edge of the bed, reaching for the internal telephone.

Julia closed her eyes. She’d spoken her lurking fear aloud and found it not so dreadful after all, and Edward was sorting the practical matters she’d let slide.

“Yes,” she heard him say into the receiver, “a first aid kit. And something to eat, if someone can rustle something light up at this hour. Some hot milk, at least.” He glanced at Julia, raising an eyebrow in query, but she shook her head. “No, thank you. And we’ll need a car for the hospital as early as possible in the morning, but I’ll explain to whoever comes up. It’s not anything serious, no.”

Julia felt a little more herself already, as she watched him replace the receiver and turn back to her. “I see the Foreign Secretary is too grand to fetch his wife a sandwich himself.”

“It’s almost one in the morning,” said Edward. “If I go wandering about downstairs, looking for a first aid kit in this place, I’ll be stopped by Special Branch and asked questions. Much too embarrassing to risk.” He threw her a pointed look.

Julia pulled a face. On her first stay here, she’d found herself explaining to security why she was wondering about in the library at midnight with a torch. The officer had been perfectly understanding about it, but it turned out the Foreign Secretary’s library was in any case mostly stocked with dull books on history, policy and law, and terribly short on Agatha Christie.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so silly about all this. I expect you’ve been having trouble enough as it is. What was it, some trying conversation with somebody in Australia?”

“Not Australia,” said Edward, “but certainly very trying – very sensitive, too.” As Julia settled down and closed her eyes, he put out a hand, careful not to catch hold of the wrong arm again. “No, darling, don’t go to sleep, not yet. Someone’s on their way with an aspirin and some hot milk.”

Julia nodded, opening her eyes again, and said, “Special Branch, do you think? Is that what they’re paid for?”

“Probably not,” said Edward. “Although I suppose one never knows.”

***