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Authors: Simon Mawer
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dead.’ He said the words slowly, savouring them. ‘Whatever you may think, this is not Cowboys and Indians, Sutro. Haven’t you any idea of what danger you were in? They might have shot you.’
‘
Shot
us? You mean they run around the country shooting innocent civilians at random? We might actually have been what we said we were – a couple of secretaries up from Edinburgh for the weekend. And I thought we did pretty well with our cover story, considering.’
He humphed. Like an old colonel, she thought.
Humph
. Perhaps that was his name – Humphrey Redmond.
‘You seem to treat this whole thing as a game, Sutro. This course, the organisation, everything.’
‘No, I don’t. That’s simply not true.’
‘You’re always making fly comments. You’re always criticising. You seem to think you know everything. I’m damned if I’m going to have security breached and reports made all because of a hoity-toity girl with an aggravating smile and an insolent manner.’
Her eyes smarted. ‘That’s unfair.’
‘This is nothing to do with being fair. It’s to do with trying to train people to fight. Whether you like it or not, this is a military establishment and in military establishments officers don’t like being made to look fools. The captain was bloody furious, you realise that, don’t you? You even called him a policeman!’
‘I was only being consistent with my cover story. Dizzysecretary. Look, this is a bit of a nonsense if all we’re talking about is hurt feelings.’
‘And then you referred to him as “any Tom, Dick or Harry”.’
‘Well, which one is he?’
The lieutenant’s expression faltered. For a moment it wasn’t clear whether he was about to rage or laugh. ‘He’s two of them, actually.’
‘
Two
of them?’
‘Captain Thomas Harry.’
Incipient tears had metamorphosed into incipient laughter. She nodded thoughtfully, and tried to avoid the man’s eye. There was something there, she realised now, some little spark of anarchy in his look, and a small pulse of sexual sympathy that passed between them. ‘He’s a bit of the other one, too,’ she said.
Two days later, Yvette was told that she was being posted away. She should pack her bags and be prepared to leave first thing the next morning.
‘I’ve failed,’ Yvette said. ‘I told you so.’ Her face was drawn in tragedy. She suddenly seemed old, small and wizened, like someone who had suffered a bereavement: the downturned mouth, the clenched muscles in her cheeks, the dry and staring eyes. ‘That silly business on the mountain did it. It’s your fault.’
‘Of course it isn’t. They’d have thrown me out as well if that had been anything to do with it. Anyway, Redmond saw the funny side. And you’re not being thrown out. You’re being posted to another training place. You said so yourself.’
‘That’s just their way of trying to soften the blow.’
‘Where did they say?’
‘Thame Park, or somewhere. Where the hell is that?’
‘Thame? Near Oxford. Perhaps we can meet up when they give us leave.’
Yvette shrugged. ‘Who knows? I think they will send me home. I think I’m no good. I bet Thame is – what do they call it? The cooler.’
Emile came over with a glass of whisky in his hand and a smug smile on his face. ‘You can go away for a start,’ Marian told him, but he stood there, immune to animosity.
‘They say they are sending me to Thame Park,’ Yvette said. ‘What is Thame Park? Is it where they hide the people who are no good? You said there was somewhere for that. The cooler, you called it.’
He knew, of course. He had all sorts of gen about the Organisation. He knew names and acronyms and code names. ‘Thame Park’s not the cooler. Thame Park’s STS 52.’
‘STS 52. What the hell is that?’
‘It’s the wireless telegraphy school. They’re going to make a pianist of you.’
‘Une pianiste?’
‘Wireless operator,’ he said impatiently. ‘Don’t you know the lingo
‘
Shot
us? You mean they run around the country shooting innocent civilians at random? We might actually have been what we said we were – a couple of secretaries up from Edinburgh for the weekend. And I thought we did pretty well with our cover story, considering.’
He humphed. Like an old colonel, she thought.
Humph
. Perhaps that was his name – Humphrey Redmond.
‘You seem to treat this whole thing as a game, Sutro. This course, the organisation, everything.’
‘No, I don’t. That’s simply not true.’
‘You’re always making fly comments. You’re always criticising. You seem to think you know everything. I’m damned if I’m going to have security breached and reports made all because of a hoity-toity girl with an aggravating smile and an insolent manner.’
Her eyes smarted. ‘That’s unfair.’
‘This is nothing to do with being fair. It’s to do with trying to train people to fight. Whether you like it or not, this is a military establishment and in military establishments officers don’t like being made to look fools. The captain was bloody furious, you realise that, don’t you? You even called him a policeman!’
‘I was only being consistent with my cover story. Dizzysecretary. Look, this is a bit of a nonsense if all we’re talking about is hurt feelings.’
‘And then you referred to him as “any Tom, Dick or Harry”.’
‘Well, which one is he?’
The lieutenant’s expression faltered. For a moment it wasn’t clear whether he was about to rage or laugh. ‘He’s two of them, actually.’
‘
Two
of them?’
‘Captain Thomas Harry.’
Incipient tears had metamorphosed into incipient laughter. She nodded thoughtfully, and tried to avoid the man’s eye. There was something there, she realised now, some little spark of anarchy in his look, and a small pulse of sexual sympathy that passed between them. ‘He’s a bit of the other one, too,’ she said.
Two days later, Yvette was told that she was being posted away. She should pack her bags and be prepared to leave first thing the next morning.
‘I’ve failed,’ Yvette said. ‘I told you so.’ Her face was drawn in tragedy. She suddenly seemed old, small and wizened, like someone who had suffered a bereavement: the downturned mouth, the clenched muscles in her cheeks, the dry and staring eyes. ‘That silly business on the mountain did it. It’s your fault.’
‘Of course it isn’t. They’d have thrown me out as well if that had been anything to do with it. Anyway, Redmond saw the funny side. And you’re not being thrown out. You’re being posted to another training place. You said so yourself.’
‘That’s just their way of trying to soften the blow.’
‘Where did they say?’
‘Thame Park, or somewhere. Where the hell is that?’
‘Thame? Near Oxford. Perhaps we can meet up when they give us leave.’
Yvette shrugged. ‘Who knows? I think they will send me home. I think I’m no good. I bet Thame is – what do they call it? The cooler.’
Emile came over with a glass of whisky in his hand and a smug smile on his face. ‘You can go away for a start,’ Marian told him, but he stood there, immune to animosity.
‘They say they are sending me to Thame Park,’ Yvette said. ‘What is Thame Park? Is it where they hide the people who are no good? You said there was somewhere for that. The cooler, you called it.’
He knew, of course. He had all sorts of gen about the Organisation. He knew names and acronyms and code names. ‘Thame Park’s not the cooler. Thame Park’s STS 52.’
‘STS 52. What the hell is that?’
‘It’s the wireless telegraphy school. They’re going to make a pianist of you.’
‘Une pianiste?’
‘Wireless operator,’ he said impatiently. ‘Don’t you know the lingo
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