As little as she likes to admit it, as disloyal as it makes her feel, Catelyn finds that she appreciates the chance to leave the house, the chance to do something for the war effort besides sit by the radio and twiddle her thumbs, hoping and praying for good news.
There’s no need to worry- Sansa’s more than capable of looking after the little ones, and even Arya promised to be on her best behavior while Mother went to the factory.
She works on the assembly line, helping to fashion canteens to send overseas. It’s tedious work, but it’s active, it’s something to do. She’s quick and efficient, and the foreman (forewoman, she’s a woman, however much she resembles a man) praises her efforts in an earnest way that brings her a pride she hasn’t felt in years.
The line halts early one day; there’s news from Germany, and the women scramble to get to a radio. Catelyn wants to be home; if there’s word from overseas, word of Ned and Robb, she needs to be with the kids when they hear it. But the bus won’t come for another hour, and she hasn’t a car…
“Do you need a ride home?” She turns around and encounters the kind blue eyes of Brienne, the enormous forewoman.
“I don’t want to put you out-” she begins, but Brienne shakes her head.
“No trouble at all- I’ve got nowhere I need to be.” She says it in a blunt, plain tone, but Catelyn doesn’t miss the shadow that passes across her pretty eyes.
“You’re very kind, thank you.” As she climbs into the passenger seat of Brienne’s car, she asks the forewoman if she’d like to join the Starks for dinner. Brienne’s face splits into a wide smile (she really is attractive when she smiles…), and she accepts the invitation before starting the engine and driving down the road.