by Rosie Clarke
‘It doesn’t often happen like that for me either,’ he admitted and smiled at her. ‘I think it was special for both of us, Georgie. We had been waiting a long time.’ He rolled over on to his back and reached for a pack of cigarettes beside the bed, lighting one, which he offered to her. She took a short puff and handed it back. She didn’t often smoke, but this seemed the appropriate time for it.
‘Yes, too long,’ she said and sighed. ‘I feel as if we’ve wasted the last ten years, though that’s a wicked thing to say, and it isn’t really true. We both have children, and parts of my marriage were good.’
‘Like the curate’s egg?’ Ben suggested and gave her a naughty grin that made her laugh, banishing her faint feeling of guilt.
‘Yes, just like that,’ Georgie agreed. ‘I suppose there was too big a gap in our ages. Annabel thought so at the time and so did my mother – but I wouldn’t listen. All I wanted was to get away from the anguish of knowing the man I loved was married to someone else. I thought that if I married Arthur I wouldn’t be miserable.’
‘And were you?’
‘Yes, dreadfully so, at first. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, I suppose, and every time he touched me I wanted it to be you.’
‘Poor Arthur,’ Ben said and kissed the end of her nose. ‘That couldn’t have been easy for him, knowing you were thinking of another man.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ she admitted a little sadly. ‘Things got better though. I can’t say I ever looked forward to his loving, but I tried to respond as much as I could. And I did try to make up for it in other ways – though I don’t think I succeeded.’
‘It was all my fault,’ Ben told her. ‘I was weak and indecisive when I should have been strong. I knew before I married Helen that I wasn’t in love with her. I think I started to fall in love with you when you took me for a spin in your car, Georgie. I should have broken off my engagement then, but I was an idealistic prig and felt that would be dishonourable. So, instead, I made you miserable and gave myself years of hell – until I’d finally had enough. I told Helen I was moving out of our room and that I would be living in London for most of the year.’
‘Did she object?’ Georgie couldn’t help being pleased that Ben was no longer living with his wife.
‘She told me that she would never give me a divorce because she wasn’t prepared to let her children bear the stigma of such a shameful act, but that in every other respect she was glad that our marriage was over.’ Ben laughed ruefully. ‘I don’t think I broke her heart, Georgie. She only ever wanted the title – but for years I felt I had to honour my marriage vows.’
‘I might not have loved you so much if you’d been other than you were, Ben,’ she said. ‘You weren’t prepared to break your marriage vows then, and I made certain we were never alone together after I married. This afternoon is special, something that we couldn’t resist, but it can’t drift into a proper affair. If Helen isn’t prepared to divorce you it would just become messy and uncomfortable and we might end up hating each other.’
‘You know that’s not true, darling,’ Ben said and kissed her neck, his hand moving idly over her thigh. ‘I could never hate you and I don’t think you would hate me, but you’re right about a hole-in-the-corner affair. I don’t want that for us.’
‘What else could it ever be?’
‘I’m not sure at the moment,’ he admitted. ‘Let’s just forget about it for the time being, shall we? As you said, this afternoon is special; it’s our time and I want to savour it and you, Georgie. Once isn’t enough – could never be enough – after all those years of wanting and longing.’
‘Oh, Ben…’ Her guilt fled as she turned in his arms, giving herself up to the pleasure of his loving. He was a strong man, his body muscled and hard beneath her stroking hands, and his flesh felt firm and satiny close to hers. She felt the rising tide of passion inside her as she arched into him, a moan of pleasure escaping as his tongue circled her nipples, bringing her to an aching awareness of her need. ‘Oh, Ben, yes please… that feels so good… so very good.’
*
Her packing finished, Georgie tested the weight of her suitcases and realised she’d bought more than she’d imagined on her shopping spree. These were heavy and she hoped there would be a porter at the station, otherwise she was going to have difficulty in getting them home.
It was no problem from the hotel to the taxi or at Liverpool Street Station, but at home it might not be so easy. If there was no one available she would simply have to leave one at the station office and make two journeys to the car.
Georgie’s thoughts were mixed as she journeyed home. This visit to London had been enjoyable in many ways, but she needed to be at home so that she could think things through.
Nothing had really changed in all these years. Ben was still tied to Helen and his duty, and she couldn’t see that changing. What had changed though was his willingness to have an affair. She knew that he wanted their relationship to carry on, even though he’d agreed that they should both stand back and take their time. She’d meant it when she’d said it should end here, but Ben had just been trying to make the decision easier for her. He was looking to find some happiness with her. His marriage had been far worse to endure than hers, which had really been quite good in lots of ways.
‘Oh damn, damn, damn!’ she muttered again. Why did she have to have this wretched conscience that wouldn’t let her be? Arthur was dead. She couldn’t hurt him now whatever she did. A part of her wanted to telephone Ben and ask him to get in touch whenever he could, but she held back. She would wait, give herself time and think it over.
*
‘Why not stay here with us for a while?’ Madame de Faubourg said to Hetty as they watched Kristina playing happily in the nursery with toys left behind by generations of her family. ‘The child seems easier now, I grant you, but to take her to England where she will not understand what anyone says… that seems unkind. I have told you that there is a home for you here with me. The house is so big that we need never meet if you wish it that way.’
‘I could never wish that. You have been kindness itself, madame,’ Hetty said and realised that a part of her was responding to that, wanted to stay. ‘But I was intending to return to England to see my family. They will be anxious for me.’
She had already delayed three days, because Kristina had been too distressed and screamed whenever they went near the car. It had been the Comtesse’s idea to bring her here to the nursery and it seemed to be helping the child. In playing with the toys, she could forget the terrible sights she had witnessed. It was peaceful here and Hetty had found herself relaxing and enjoying a brief respite from the chaotic retreat from Paris.
‘I am sure there is a way of letting your family know you are safe,’ the Comtesse said. ‘I dare say letters can still get through. Our telephone has been cut, as you know, but there are always ways that certain people can contact London.’
‘What my grandmother is trying to say is that she wants you to stay,’ Pierre said as he came to join them. ‘Jean seems better this morning. If he continues to improve we shall be on our way in a week or so.’
‘I am glad Jean is better,’ the Comtesse said. ‘But I do not see your hurry to leave, Pierre. We have been forced to sign the surrender in the most humiliating way, but what can you expect after the Government ran away? It is shameful! They should have defended Paris to the last man.’
She was talking about the armistice, which the French had been forced to sign at Compiegne, where the German surrender had taken place in 1918. The German troops were now parading along the Champs Élysées, the French Government having left for Bordeaux days earlier. They had heard that heavy restrictions were already in place – cinemas, restaurants and some shops reserved for German use.
‘It would have been a waste of lives,’ Pierre told her but smiled. ‘You are too fierce, ma chérie. If we had an army of men like you, we should never have let the Germans put one foot on French soil.’
‘Pah!’ she made a grimace of disgust. ‘As always it is bad planning, no backbone at the top. They were too willing to lie down and let the Germans walk all over them. And now what will you do? You hurry to return to your unit, but for what? To surrender like the rest of them?’
‘No, I shall never do that, Grand-mère,’ Pierre told her, mouth set in a harsh line. ‘There is still some fighting going on, and when that is crushed as it will be, I shall join the secret resistance. I would rather my blood was spilled on the ground than surrender to the enemy.’
‘Now you speak like a man,’ she said approvingly. ‘That is what you must do – what all of us must do. We must resist with all our strength, be it great or small.’
‘I am sure there are many who think as we do,’ Pierre said. ‘We could not hold out against them because they were too strong for us, but that doesn’t mean we have all given up the fight.’
‘I shall never give up,’ the Comtesse declared, her eyes flashing. In that moment, Hetty saw echoes of the splendid woman she had been when younger. ‘Let them do what they will to me, I shall fight them until I am dead.’
‘Bravo, ma chérie,’ Pierre said, his eyes warm with affection. ‘Perhaps Hetty will stay and help you?’
‘You told me I was British and should go home!’ Hetty gave him a challenging look.
‘That was before I knew you,’ he said, his smile teasing and warm. ‘My grandmother likes you. You told me you love France, that you have lived here for ten years – stay and join in the fight for her.’
‘No, Pierre, you go too fast,’ the Comtesse said and shook her head at him. ‘Hetty must bide her time and think what she wants to do. Then, if she wants to continue her journey we shall help her.’
‘I think I must stay for a while,’ Hetty admitted. The Comtesse was someone she could admire. Already she felt drawn to her and there was no way she could leave until Kristina was less nervous. ‘If a letter could be sent to England, I should be grateful, or a message of some kind. My family will be worrying, because they must know that the Germans are in Paris, and they cannot know that I escaped before that happened. But Kristina isn’t ready to leave yet, and I can’t abandon her. So I shall avail myself of your hospitality and stay for a while, thank you.’
‘Good, that is settled,’ the Comtesse said with a satisfied smile. ‘Now, you will leave me alone with the child and you two will go for a walk. Pierre should show you certain things that you may need to know if the Germans come here.’
‘Yes, Grand-mère is right,’ he agreed. ‘Come, take a stroll with me, Hetty. I should like to show you a little more of my home.’
There was no doubt that he could be charming when he chose, Hetty thought, reminded a little of Henri when they had first met. They were not really alike in looks, for Pierre was a much sterner man, more aristocratic, more cultured and knowledgeable. Henri had lived only for his art. She ought not to think of them as being alike, for in truth they were not – except for just now and then when she was aware of something in Pierre that made her think he might not be all that he seemed.
‘Perhaps you should tell me what to avoid in the old wing,’ Hetty suggested. ‘I remember you saying that parts of the ceiling are unsound.’
‘I warned you not to go there and that still applies,’ he said, ‘but there is something about the old wing that you should know in an emergency…’
‘You intrigue me,’ Hetty said, looking at him curiously. ‘Tell me what you mean.’
‘I think I would rather show you,’ Pierre said and his smile was positively Machiavellian. ‘In this instance, actions speak louder than words…’
*
‘Your French is excellent, Tarleton,’ the officer said and looked at him speculatively. ‘Spent much time there?’
‘Several holidays when I was younger,’ Ben said. ‘And I’ve been a few times in the last few years, to see my sister. She has been living out there for some years. Her French was so good that it shamed me; she sounds like a native.’
‘Your sister is still living there?’ He looked surprised.
‘I wish I knew,’ Ben said and frowned. ‘We haven’t heard from her since before the Germans broke through the French lines. Someone told us he believed that she left Paris before they got there, but we don’t know for sure.’
‘There may be a way of finding something out – is she married?’
‘No, she’s still Hester Tarleton, Hetty for short. She had a lot of friends in Paris, but if she left there, I’m not sure where she might go. I imagine she might try to get a ship, but there’s no guarantee she would make it that far. Her car wasn’t much use. I offered to buy her a better one once, but she refused, said she never needed a car in Paris.’
‘Well, I can’t promise anything, though we do have contacts.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Ben paused, then, ‘I understand this interview is something to do with liaison work? Because I speak French reasonably well.’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you any more at the moment. You realise that you will have to undergo some basic training first – but if we wanted you to go in, would you be prepared to do so?’
‘Go in undercover?’ Ben stared at the officer in surprise and with a flicker of excitement. He’d been warned that because of a defect with his feet he wouldn’t be much use for ordinary duties as a soldier. He had been prepared for some basic army training and then being transferred to some dead-end job as a pen-pusher for the duration, but this was beyond anything he’d imagined. ‘I’m not sure my French is good enough for that – but I’m prepared to give it a go, sir.’
‘Just like that? Most of my operatives want time to consider. I won’t beat about the bush – a lot of them don’t make it back. They slip up and that’s curtains. We provide you with a suicide pill in case of torture…’
‘Yes, I imagine that might come in handy, sir.’ Ben knew that given the choice between torture and a quick death, he would choose the latter, though he would prefer to live and return to Georgie when his work was done. However, he didn’t think of refusing the request.
The officer smiled. ‘Well done, Tarleton. That floors some straightaway. We hope you won’t have to use it, but the first thing you learn if you join us is that you owe loyalty to your comrades. The one thing you never do is talk – so there’s an easy way out if you can’t take it.’
‘Understood, sir.’
‘Still want to go ahead with the training?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Georgie would understand. She wouldn’t want him to be a coward.
‘We’ll give you ten days to consider; visit family, friends, anybody you care about – but you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Understood?’
‘Can’t say I know much yet, sir,’ Ben said and smiled oddly. ‘I’m not likely to tell anyone what you’ve told me.’
‘You’ll have to sign the Official Secrets Act, of course,’ the officer smiled and offered his hand. ‘Keith Barker. I shall be your mentor in all this, Tarleton. We shall meet again next in Scotland. I’m here to recruit a small team of operatives, but the training is north of the border. You’ll arrive by train and be met in Edinburgh; from there you’ll be taken by car to the secret location. Rather pleasant surroundings. We treat our operatives well during training, though it isn’t easy to get through the course. Even if we take you on, it doesn’t mean you’ll pass.’
‘The condemned man ate heartily, sir?’ Ben raised his brows. ‘That rather puts us on our mettle, doesn’t it? I’ll look forward to seeing you in a few days, sir.’
‘That’s the spirit, old chap. Off you go now and enjoy your leave. It might be a while before you get another chance.’
‘Thank you – and thank you for giving me this opportunity sir. I didn’t expect it.’
‘Thought we’d put you behind a desk moving records around, did you? You might wish we had before you’re finished, Tarleton.’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Ben said. ‘Always did enjo
y exploring the French countryside, sir.’
‘By moonlight?’
‘I should imagine the last thing I need to wish for is the moon.’
‘Perfectly right,’ Keith Barker said. ‘Glad you spotted that – it shows you think with your brain and not through various other parts of your anatomy.’
Ben smiled. Having already been put through several weeks of marching and various other delights by an army drill sergeant, whose face looked as if he drank vinegar for pleasure, he had no doubt what part of his anatomy was in question.
‘I try not to, sir.’
‘Get off then – you’re wasting my time and your own.’
Ben saluted and left the office. He was feeling a bit stunned as he went out into the warmth of a perfect summer day. He had ten days. He ought to go home and see the children, but he wouldn’t stop for more than a day. It was just possible that he wouldn’t get another chance and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with the remainder of his leave.
*
‘You’ve had a letter from Hetty?’ Georgie was surprised and pleased because she could hear the relief in Annabel’s voice. ‘That’s wonderful. When did it arrive?’
‘Only this morning. Someone came into reception and asked for me, then gave me the letter. It hadn’t been through the normal post and it looked a bit grubby, as though it had passed through a few hands, but the main thing is that she says she’s fine. She isn’t in Paris, but she can’t tell me where she is for security reasons. She says she’s with friends and that she may stay for a while…’
‘Why on earth doesn’t she come home? If she can get a letter out there must be a way of getting back. I know some people managed it after the Germans first invaded, though it must be more difficult as their patrols spread out through the country.’
‘You know Hetty. She says she was caught up in an unpleasant incident and that she is caring for a child whose mother was killed in an attack from the air.’
‘Yes, I read about something like that in the paper,’ Georgie said. ‘They flew over the people leaving Paris and shot at them – one report said several were killed.’
