Maralinga by Judy Nunn

scone into his mouth and reached for another. ‘Aren’t you having any of these?’
    â€˜I ate a late lunch.’
    â€˜Ah, right.’ He piled more jam onto his side plate. ‘I’ll be off on a recce trip shortly, of course – have a look at the site and check out the Australian scientific representatives. Although I have dossiers on all three and they’re not only harmless, they’re ideal.’ He gave a snort of laughter as he scooped up a spoonful of cream. ‘Two of them are actually British – accepted positions in Australia after the war – perfect choices to liaise with the Australian government. Penney’s done a damn good job there, have to give him that much.’
    Harold paused long enough to demolish another half a scone, then, dabbing his mouth with his napkin, continued. ‘I’ll be gone a good several weeks, I’d think, given the travel there and back, and I need to get the full layout of the place. I must say, theprospect intrigues me. Do you know they’re building a ruddy great township in the middle of the desert? It’s quite extraordinary. The airstrip’s a mile and a half long! Imagine that. Right out there in the middle of nowhere. Quite, quite extraordinary.’
    He contemplated the remaining half-scone that sat on his plate and decided against it, picking up his cup and saucer instead. ‘They’ll want me to leave pretty soon, I should imagine, but I’ll stave off any plans until the new year so I can catch up with Nigel.’ Then he hastily added, ‘Catherine too, of course – don’t want to miss out on the family Christmas, what?’
    He could tell from the look in his wife’s eyes that she was on the verge of beseeching him, yet again, to disguise his blatant favouritism in the presence of the children, but Harold couldn’t be bothered talking about Catherine. He had far more important and exciting things on his mind.
    â€˜I have a plan up my sleeve which I don’t intend to share with the boffins,’ he said, ‘nor with the armed forces. In fact, just to be on the safe side, I shan’t even inform my own officer who’s to be stationed there.’ He leaned back in his armchair, cup and saucer cradled against his chest. ‘There will be a covert MI6 operative salted amongst them,’ he announced with a smug smile. Then, little finger delicately extended, he lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. Harold always drank tea in the daintiest manner.
    â€˜I’m having one of my top undercover men seconded to Maralinga,’ he said, and toyed briefly with the notion of telling her who – she knew Gideon Melbray from their embassy days in Washington. But he decided against it. No names, no pack drill must remain theorder of the day. Pity, he thought, he’d have enjoyed her reaction. Lavinia had liked Gideon a great deal, he remembered, she’d found him a most attractive fellow. But then, everyone did. People were drawn to Gideon’s beauty and tended to trust him – which, of course, made him such a valuable covert operative.
    â€˜By jove,’ he said with a gleeful grin, ‘wouldn’t old Penney be just livid if he knew he had an MI6 spy in his midst.’
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    â€˜I have to say I’m not happy about this, Harold. I’m not happy about this at all.’
    Three days later, having been informed by the Prime Minister’s Office of MI6’s involvement, Sir William Penney appeared bordering on livid, which was unusual for a man of his normally affable disposition.
    â€˜Just a precautionary measure, old chap. You mustn’t take it personally.’
    Aware of the perverse pleasure Harold Dartleigh was finding in his one-upmanship, Penney wondered exactly how else he was supposed to take it. ‘I have headed Britain’s nuclear weapons program since 1947,’ he began testily. ‘My leadership skills have never