be made aware of our conversation in due course; but for the moment let’s say that this meeting is outside even his remit.’
Was this another test? Was it some stupid charade put on by the Organisation to see how good she was at keeping things secret? ‘I really don’t understand—’
‘You see, I work for a different government department from the one that recruited you—’
‘Different? What do you mean, different?’
‘In my father’s house are many mansions, Miss Sutro. I’m afraid I am unable to identify the department, save to say that it is most secret. More secret even than the one so …’ he hesitated, ‘so
admirably
run by Colonel Buckmaster.’
‘I don’t follow—’
‘I’m sure you don’t. Let’s say that we are all on the same side, all working towards the same ends, but in different ways.’ He reached inside his jacket and took out a cigarette case. ‘Do you smoke?’
Did she? It seemed a question as difficult as all the others seething in her mind. She thought of the girls in the Filter Roomduring the night watch, the haze of smoke above their heads, the desultory conversations when there was nothing happening, the sudden action when the radar stations called through and plots began going down on the table. An explosive tension like a parachute jump, not this nagging anxiety, this confusion. She took the proffered cigarette and leaned forward to accept his light. As she sat back in her chair Fawley said, ‘I understand that you are due to leave for France at the next moon.’
She tried not to betray her shock. At Beaulieu they’d warned her – they’ll surprise you with unexpected knowledge. They’ll find out things from other prisoners and they’ll try and shock you with what they know. But you’ve got to seem indifferent, as though you’ve no idea what they’re going on about. You know nothing, remember that. Nothing. So she tried not to show shock, she tried not to glance at Peters, she tried to appear indifferent. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do, Miss Sutro. For the moment, all I want to say is that when you get to Paris—’
‘Major Fawley, I can’t make any comment about this kind of thing.’
He nodded. ‘Of course you can’t. Let me put it this way: if the
chance
should arise of your going to Paris, we would like you to do something for us.’
‘Something?’
‘We’d like you to make contact with your friend Dr Clément Pelletier. Would you be happy to do that?’
The two men seemed to be held in a great stillness. She was aware of a sound from the quadrangle below, the clatter of army boots on paving stones, the sound of men laughing, someone calling in a loud voice across the open space.
‘Clément Pelletier?’
‘Exactly.’
Thought seemed difficult, as though demanding more strength than she possessed. Like trying to run when waist-deep in water. ‘How do you know about Clément Pelletier?’
‘Dr Pelletier has long been known to us.’
‘But how do you know that
I
know him?’
‘It has come to our attention in the course of events.’
‘But
how
, Major Fawley? How exactly has it come to your attention?’
The man smiled benignly. ‘You were put through the cards, Miss Sutro. Inquiries were made about your background, your contacts, whom you know and have known. The security people can be very thorough. You must understand these things by now.’
‘Perhaps I’m just beginning to. So what exactly would be the purpose of my contacting Dr Pelletier? Assuming that I were to go to Paris?’
‘We would like you to take a letter to him. Of course we can’t expect you to carry an ordinary letter in an envelope. Instead, we have a rather special letter.’ He reached into a pocket and took out a leather wallet. From inside this he took a key, an ordinary key that might have opened a front door lock. He handed it to her. ‘I imagine you carry a key ring of some kind? When you go to France, ensure that this key
Was this another test? Was it some stupid charade put on by the Organisation to see how good she was at keeping things secret? ‘I really don’t understand—’
‘You see, I work for a different government department from the one that recruited you—’
‘Different? What do you mean, different?’
‘In my father’s house are many mansions, Miss Sutro. I’m afraid I am unable to identify the department, save to say that it is most secret. More secret even than the one so …’ he hesitated, ‘so
admirably
run by Colonel Buckmaster.’
‘I don’t follow—’
‘I’m sure you don’t. Let’s say that we are all on the same side, all working towards the same ends, but in different ways.’ He reached inside his jacket and took out a cigarette case. ‘Do you smoke?’
Did she? It seemed a question as difficult as all the others seething in her mind. She thought of the girls in the Filter Roomduring the night watch, the haze of smoke above their heads, the desultory conversations when there was nothing happening, the sudden action when the radar stations called through and plots began going down on the table. An explosive tension like a parachute jump, not this nagging anxiety, this confusion. She took the proffered cigarette and leaned forward to accept his light. As she sat back in her chair Fawley said, ‘I understand that you are due to leave for France at the next moon.’
She tried not to betray her shock. At Beaulieu they’d warned her – they’ll surprise you with unexpected knowledge. They’ll find out things from other prisoners and they’ll try and shock you with what they know. But you’ve got to seem indifferent, as though you’ve no idea what they’re going on about. You know nothing, remember that. Nothing. So she tried not to show shock, she tried not to glance at Peters, she tried to appear indifferent. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do, Miss Sutro. For the moment, all I want to say is that when you get to Paris—’
‘Major Fawley, I can’t make any comment about this kind of thing.’
He nodded. ‘Of course you can’t. Let me put it this way: if the
chance
should arise of your going to Paris, we would like you to do something for us.’
‘Something?’
‘We’d like you to make contact with your friend Dr Clément Pelletier. Would you be happy to do that?’
The two men seemed to be held in a great stillness. She was aware of a sound from the quadrangle below, the clatter of army boots on paving stones, the sound of men laughing, someone calling in a loud voice across the open space.
‘Clément Pelletier?’
‘Exactly.’
Thought seemed difficult, as though demanding more strength than she possessed. Like trying to run when waist-deep in water. ‘How do you know about Clément Pelletier?’
‘Dr Pelletier has long been known to us.’
‘But how do you know that
I
know him?’
‘It has come to our attention in the course of events.’
‘But
how
, Major Fawley? How exactly has it come to your attention?’
The man smiled benignly. ‘You were put through the cards, Miss Sutro. Inquiries were made about your background, your contacts, whom you know and have known. The security people can be very thorough. You must understand these things by now.’
‘Perhaps I’m just beginning to. So what exactly would be the purpose of my contacting Dr Pelletier? Assuming that I were to go to Paris?’
‘We would like you to take a letter to him. Of course we can’t expect you to carry an ordinary letter in an envelope. Instead, we have a rather special letter.’ He reached into a pocket and took out a leather wallet. From inside this he took a key, an ordinary key that might have opened a front door lock. He handed it to her. ‘I imagine you carry a key ring of some kind? When you go to France, ensure that this key
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