Daughters Of Eden: The Eden Series Book 1

by Bingham, Charlotte

  ‘Well, sir?’ Jack’s driver enquired, looking at his passenger in the mirror.

  ‘Must obey the law of the land, my dear fellow,’ Jack growled, practising his Churchillian tones. ‘Let us see what they have to say for themselves.’

  Jack sat watching as ahead his own two police outriders stopped their bikes to listen to what the traffic policeman had to say to them.

  A moment later one of them, having parked his bike, tapped on Jack’s driver’s window. Jack nodded for him to wind the reinforced window down and leaned forward to hear the news.

  ‘Road’s flooded ahead, sir,’ the outrider told them. ‘Hence the diversion.’

  ‘Sure of that, are you? Has there been that much rain?’ Jack wondered in return.

  ‘There’s been a fair bit, sir, when you think of it. Heavy down here in fact, so we’ve just been told. There’s some tributary or other over the hill ahead down in the valley that’s burst its banks and the road’s impassable.’

  Jack nodded. The weather had been foul.

  ‘Go up and turn about,’ he instructed the driver. ‘And take whatever diversion they recommend.’

  The driver did as he was told, with Jack sitting as far back as he could in the car so as not to draw undue attention to himself. As the driver began to manoeuvre the car across the road, Jack took out his pocket torch to examine the map that was lying ready by his side, folded it open at the exact area where they were at the moment. Spotting the road they were on Jack traced a line ahead, through the copse on the top of the hill and down the other side.

  As far as he could see there was no river within miles, let alone any tributary. The land ahead was all farmland and large estates, the nearest river being actually one mile behind them, to the north.

  ‘Call that policeman over,’ Jack ordered his driver. ‘I want him to run an errand for me.’

  ‘Sir.’ The driver wound down his window and called to the policeman, who after a moment’s consideration walked over to the driver’s open window.

  ‘I want you to run an important errand for me, Constable,’ a deep voice growled from the shadows of the back seat.

  The constable peered into the car and then promptly stood to attention.

  ‘Sir. I had no idea. Sorry, sir.’

  ‘Why should you?’ Jack growled. ‘Now I need you to take a message to your station. It’s urgent, man, so look sharp. That understood?’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘You’re Kent Constabulary, and we’re near Little Folding, yes? A neck of the woods very familiar to me. So at a guess I’d say your station’s Goodhurst, yes?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘Should know it, dammit. I opened it meself – after it had been burned down and rebuilt. Before your time, probably.’

  ‘No, sir. Not at all. I remember the fire very well, sir. What message do you want me to take, sir?’

  ‘I want you to tell them the game’s up,’ Jack replied, picking up his loaded Tommy gun. ‘Because it is. There is no police station at Goodhurst. Now call your accomplice over here – don’t try to be smart – then get in the car, both of you. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you both.’

  The policeman looked at him slowly, one hand slipping behind his back.

  ‘I don’t advise that either,’ Jack said quickly. ‘If you look down you’ll see my driver has a revolver pointed straight at your throat. Now do as you’re told and call your friend over. Now. Voice only.’

  The policeman looked down and saw the glint of the driver’s small arms pointed straight up at his face. After a moment he called to his companion to come over. As he did, Jack’s driver pushed his door open, keeping his gun trained on the nearest policeman, and waited. As soon as the second bogus policeman arrived alongside he moved quickly behind him, put a gun in his back, frisked him efficiently and swiftly, found his Luger revolver and disarmed him, chucking the weapon to Jack who still had the first policeman covered with his Tommy gun. The driver then disarmed the first policeman, pulling his revolver from under his belt at the back of his trousers, opened the back door of the car and pushed first one man then the next in and on to the floor with a large heavily booted foot so that they lay on top of one another.

  ‘Faces down, and keep ’em down,’ Jack ordered, directing them with the point of the Tommy gun. ‘Hands on back of head. And not a squeak.’

  The driver got back into his seat, turned the car round and headed back up the road. Half a mile further on there was another policeman on duty, directing with his torch that the car was to leave the highway and take the country lane that ran off sharply to the driver’s left.

  ‘Sir?’ Jack’s driver asked, looking in the driving mirror.

  ‘Do as the man says,’ Jack replied, keeping both feet in the small of the back of the man on top of the pile of two.

  The car swung off the road and began to descend a steep hill.

  ‘No!’ one of the men suddenly cried from the floor. ‘No – no! No, stop the car! For God’s sake stop the car at once!’

  The driver stopped the car.

  Jack switched on his powerful torch and shone it on his two prisoners.

  ‘Any particular reason we should stop this car?’

  ‘Landmines. At the bottom of the hill.’

  ‘Good. Now the names of everyone involved, please.’

  ‘Can’t—’

  ‘Don’t see why not,’ Jack said, chewing the end of his cigar.

  ‘We’ve got our families, that’s why,’ one of them muttered with his face still on the floor of the car.

  ‘Either you tell us everything you know—’

  ‘We can’t—’

  ‘Well, we’re going to blow the car up anyway. It’s up to you, my dear fellows, whether or not you want to go up with it, that’s what I’m saying.’

  Lord Kilmington’s butler apologised for interrupting him before informing him there was an urgent telephone call for him.

  Ralph Kilmington detached himself from the group standing round the fireplace in the drawing room and went to his telephone room, into which he shut himself for only a matter of about a minute. When he re-emerged he was beaming, and having first dismissed his servants from the room he tapped on a nearby table for silence.

  ‘My friends,’ he said. ‘I have the most excellent piece of news – news that I know will please and excite you as much as it does me, since we are all of the same political and philosophical complexion. The surprise we had planned has been successful.’

  At once around the room there was a babble of excited conversation. Kilmington waited a moment then tapped on the table again, this time much louder in order to be heard over the noise.

  ‘Yes, my friends,’ he continued. ‘This is indeed a momentous moment. So please – please raise your glasses to our success and to the future of our country. Ladies and gentlemen – to a new England.’

  Later Kilmington found Basil staring across the room at Poppy, and drew him aside.

  ‘Is something the matter, Basil?’

  ‘Yes, I’m very much afraid there is.’ Basil glanced sideways at his regular companion, a small, cherubic-looking Italian, and taking Kilmington aside he said in a low voice, ‘I think I know that woman over there.’

  Kilmington, looking relaxed and happy, shook his head. ‘Surely you would remember?’

  ‘No, because she’s so changed her looks.’

  Ralph came round to stare at Poppy full face. ‘Henry had her checked out. She is a stunner, do admit.’

  ‘Yes, that is what I mean, Ralphie. I am sure I have known her, in the biblical sense. Had an affair with her once, years ago. In Cheshire, I think it was.’

  Ralph Kilmington laughed.

  ‘Very unusual for you, dear boy, very unusual, to find yourself in Cheshire, and with a woman.’

  Basil nodded, moving back to his regular companion.

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘Wasn’t it?’

  A few minutes later he was once more drawn aside, this time by
Eugene.

  ‘I think you had better come outside with me. I don’t want to spoil the party, but—’

  ‘Please, my dear fellow, I am just beginning to relax. I’ve had the most terrible shock.’ He nodded towards Poppy. ‘That woman over there—’

  Eugene stared across at Poppy.

  ‘Yes? That woman over there? What, you mean the redhead?’

  ‘No, the blonde.’

  ‘Stunning, isn’t she?’

  ‘If you like that sort of thing, yes. But I’ve just realised that I think I had an affair with her, and it wasn’t even after hunting. Do you think she will know me? I am sorely tempted to go over and tease her, really I am.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Eugene said shortly. ‘Come outside. I have to explain something.’

  ‘Explain what?’ Basil wondered, picking up Eugene’s obvious tension, but nevertheless following him out of the room. ‘Has something gone wrong?’

  Eugene, only too relieved to have taken the pressure off Poppy, turned to face Basil.

  ‘We have to get the hell out of here and fast,’ he replied. ‘The fresh news is that the keg exploded all right – but there was no one sitting on the bloody thing.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Basil said coldly. ‘Ralph had a first-hand report.’

  ‘But a second-hand result. I vote we get the hell out of here, before Ralph and the rest of them find out we’ve failed.’

  ‘I am not fleeing before I have confirmation.’

  ‘If you know what’s good for you, signor, you’ll follow me into the car and vanish into the night. As soon as the authorities have been warned they’ll be round here like flies round a dungheap.’

  As previously arranged through underground sources, the egregious Leon was waiting to drive them to a private airstrip.

  ‘You up front, Basil!’

  Eugene climbed into the back of the car. Slamming the door he yelled at Leon to get going, and Leon did so at once, firing the engine immediately and roaring off down the drive.

  ‘How much time have we got?’ Basil enquired, as Leon braked hard at the bottom of the drive, unsure which way to go.

  ‘How in hell should I know, man?’ Eugene roared back. ‘Not right! Left! Turn left, you eejit! Left and left again at the top!’

  ‘Where are we going, Eugene?’ Basil asked calmly. ‘We’re not driving all the way to the Emerald Isle, I take it?’

  ‘We’re driving to an airfield, about twenty miles north of here – and with a bit of luck we’ll be on the west coast in about another two or three hours, where we’ll hole up till the boat comes in, as they say!’

  ‘How long do you think before your famous boat comes in, Eugene?’ Basil idly wondered, lighting a cigarette. ‘According to our discussions, collection was to be arranged for tomorrow night.’

  ‘And so it shall be,’ Eugene replied. ‘Weather and water permitting. Now take a right here, Leon, on to a minor road – which fortunately is a straight one so you can drive like hell. Something I strongly recommend.’

  Eugene sat back and began to whistle his favourite Gaelic ballad.

  ‘Drive with your headlights on, Leon,’ Basil ordered. ‘If anyone tries to stop you, run them over.’

  Leon turned the car’s headlamps on full and accelerated as hard as he could along the narrow but straight country road. He drove as fast as he dared while his passengers sat in silence.

  ‘Pity,’ Basil said finally, sighing. ‘Such a pity. We have been so near and yet it seems now it is all too far. And we won’t get another shot at it for some while, I don’t suppose.’

  ‘Had we succeeded, you were going to be our new Prime Minister, weren’t you, Basil?’

  Basil smiled wryly.

  ‘Not quite, but with Churchill out of the way and a treaty already drafted for an early truce with Germany, we were certainly going to be in a very strong position to help save our country from ruin. But there you are – the best laid plans, as they say.’

  ‘They haven’t yet gone awry, old bean,’ Eugene stated grimly. ‘If we can get you out of this country in one piece, we truly live to fight another day.’

  ‘True enough, Paddy.’ Basil sighed again. ‘True enough. Where exactly are you taking us, Eugene? I don’t know this part of England that well, but I do know one private airfield in this neck and it certainly isn’t in this direction. It’s the other side of the hills, a couple of miles beyond Great Stedford.’

  ‘Ah bedad, but you’re wrong there, Tommy,’ Eugene said, in a complete change of tone. ‘De strip dis Paddy uses – well very few folks know about it. Sure it lies well hidden in a little valley, and beautifully maintained by de pixies and de elves.’

  ‘What are you talking about, you idiot?’ Basil said tightly. ‘Have you lost your reason or something?’

  ‘Ah no, sir,’ Eugene shook his head. ‘’Tis just a little Paddy joke so it is. Knowing how Tommy likes to laugh at us Paddies, I taught I’d have a little joke, dat’s all, sur. Now turn in right here, Leon, would yous ever? In about a hundred yards. T’rough dem great big gates.’

  As the car slowed down to make the turn, ‘See dem lodges ahead?’ Eugene asked Leon. ‘Dat’s the entrance.’

  ‘For God’s sake talk normally, will you?’ Basil said irritably. ‘Joke well and truly over.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right, old boy,’ Eugene said in his normal voice. ‘The joke is well and truly over. And the game is well and truly up.’

  From out of the shadows of the gate lodges two armed sentries appeared, rifles cocked and aimed directly at the windscreen of the car.

  ‘Halt!’ one shouted. ‘Who goes there!’

  Leon quickly changed gear. He turned round to look over his shoulder as he was about to reverse as fast as he could out of the gateway, but found himself staring down the barrel of Eugene’s large service revolver.

  ‘First gear, Leon,’ Eugene said. ‘And slowly.’

  Basil then whipped round, but he too found himself with a gun to his head.

  ‘Surprise!’ Eugene asked. ‘Isn’t life just full of the most surprising old surprises?’ One of the sentries was now at the driver’s window, rifle pointed directly at Leon’s head.

  ‘I should get out, Fritz, if I were you,’ Eugene advised. ‘Before he blows what passes for your brains out the other side of your head. Nasty thought.’

  Leon opened the door, put his hands on his head and climbed out, as the other sentry opened the back door and Eugene leaned across and grinned at him.

  ‘Evening, Percy,’ he said. ‘How are the rabbits? Got them under control?’

  The sentry grinned back and lowered his rifle.

  ‘I’m glad to say, sir, the rabbits have stopped eating the lettuce.’

  ‘Good show,’ Eugene said, sitting back. ‘Dashed good show all round in fact. Just hope the Flower Girl and the House Detective surface all right.’

  As it happened, in the ensuing panic, Scott and Poppy were quite able to vanish into the grounds of the great house without anyone noticing. Unfortunately for Poppy their method of escape was on foot.

  ‘I don’t know what it is,’ she moaned to Scott as they walked along side by side in the darkness. ‘But every time I have to escape from anywhere it’s always in something long – nightdress, stupid evening dress, nothing suitable.’ She sighed. ‘Must make a note to pack better in future.’

  Scott laughed. ‘It’s all right, we’re nearly there.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘At the safe house, Lady Tetherington. Where we can bide awhile. And don’t worry about your evening dress—’ He looked at her appreciatively. ‘I can help you take care of it. Really.’

  ‘Cheek,’ Poppy replied, but in Diona de Donnet’s voice.

  * * *

  Naturally the incident never made the nationals, and only the local newspaper noted the landmine going off in a country lane. So, besides the formal congratulations within the various sections and to the staff at Eden as a whole, and a lon
g personal note of thanks from the Prime Minister who regretted he was unable to visit Eden because of – as he put it – pressure of work, the whole affair was hushed up.

  There were private parties, of course. Scott and Poppy continued to celebrate their success in the luxurious comfort of Diona de Donnet’s suite of rooms in the Stanley before she finally had to vacate them, while Marjorie returned to Eden in quiet triumph with a delighted Major Folkestone who immediately granted her a twenty-four-hour pass to go where she liked and do what she pleased with Billy. They both chose to remain at Eden and start preparing for Christmas. Meanwhile Kate had a pleasant if embarrassing surprise, when she learned from the security files of the role Eugene Hackett had played.

  ‘He’s been gone so long, to tell you the truth I – I thought he might be a double agent.’ She laughed.

  ‘Shows what a good chap in the field he is,’ Folkestone told her. ‘I tell you, Kate – he is so good at what he does that sometimes I begin to worry about him. I began to worry in case he was truly double crossing us. That’s how very good he is.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Gone for a hack on his horse. Says it was the only thing that got him through. No – no that isn’t quite right,’ Major Folkestone corrected himself, turning red and looking at the toecaps of his highly polished shoes. ‘No, he said there was something else he had to get back for. You probably know what he was talking about. In fact if anyone does, it’s you.’

  Without even looking at her, the major turned on his heel and walked quickly away, on parade as ever. Kate, her shift for the day now finished, fetched her overcoat from the cottage and took herself off to wander the parkland in the hope that she might catch sight of Eugene and his grey horse.

  The cloud had thickened and lowered all day, resulting in a fine steady drizzle that was almost as impenetrable as a mist, and the landscape, normally so fine even in winter, was reduced to a grey murky haze, making it difficult even to pick out the great trees and the splendid follies that decorated the park. But as she continued her walk the wind changed direction and turned the drizzle to a vicious sleeting rain that stung Kate’s face and made the visibility worse.