The Book Group 48
ruse de guerre
‘Your amateur operation worked well.’
‘It did.’
‘As a rule, I don’t encourage civilian involvement, but, well, needs must and all that.’
Paul gave the briefest of nods.
Christina Kelley’s expression was inscrutable, her eyes quick and perceptive. Paul reminded himself that she was a Whitehall mandarin and not to be trifled with. Then again, he’d trifled with Taes and won through. She spoke again. ‘Actually, your little book group could be quite useful, in an informal capacity, that little ruse de guerre worked…’
‘No.’
‘No?’ she looked taken aback. ‘Can I ask why? You seemed to enjoy it, all of you.’
A couple of days earlier, before coming to the shop to speak with Paul, Christina had called and arranged to meet Penny, with whom she had built something of a relationship. They’d had lunch, but Penny had remained tight-lipped as to what they’d discussed.
‘My life as a, well, as an assassin, ended in forty-three,’ Paul said. ‘My life as a soldier ended in forty-five. I have no intention of returning to either, and definitely no intention of endangering my friends. What they did, they did as a favour to me. I would have said no, I did say no, but they ignored it. Nevertheless, it was a one-shot deal.’
‘Ah.’ Kelley said. There was a long moment while she digested this, then she reached into her briefcase and brought out a cardboard folder. ‘This is the information that Taes used to blackmail you. All the details of the gold that you stole in May forty-five and banked in Switzerland the following year.’ She looked at him now with a steely expression. ‘Do you know the punishment for looting during wartime?’
‘I imagine it is severe.’
‘It’s very severe.’ She placed the folder on the desk. ‘This is the only copy. Sir Timothy liked to keep his cards close to his chest.’ She pushed it across to his side of the desk. Her expression softened. ‘Generally, the government is the only one who gets to loot our nation’s enemies, but in this case, you can keep that. For services rendered.’
‘Thankyou.’ He was surprised and gladdened by this turn of events, but he kept his expression studiously bland. He took the folder and opened a drawer, put it away. He’d read it later. Then burn it. ‘What has happened to Sir Timothy?’ he asked.
‘Need to know,’ Kelley said, tapping a finger to her nose. She closed her briefcase and stood, brushed her skirt straight, tugged her jacket into place. ‘Well, I’ll go, but if you ever change your mind about working for me, I have a place for your Book Group.’
‘It’s Penny’s Book Group,’ Paul said.
‘Indeed it is,’ she said.
Paul stood and opened the door for her, walked her to the front door of the shop. Outside there was a light smog, a reminder that London was a port, so was home to sea fog as well as two million coal fires. Outside a black limousine was waiting. Mrs. Kelley left the shop and walked towards the car. Her driver got out smartly and opened the rear door for her. She got in, closed the door, and a moment later the car disappeared into the grey air.
‘Are we done with them?’ a voice said.
He turned to see Vivien, peering out over his shoulder. ‘I hope so,’ he said.
‘Next time I got to Italy I want a proper holiday.’
‘You deserve one, for what you did.’ Paul said. ‘You know, some of the expense money is left over…’
‘Save it,’ she said with a smile. ‘You’ll need it.’
‘I will?’
Vivien did not reply, but turned and went back to the counter. Penny had taken a day off and the shop was quiet. Paul realised that at that moment he had nothing to do. Nothing at all. It felt strange. ‘I’ll be in my office,’ he said to Vivien as he passed the counter.
He closed the office door behind him and sat down. Damn, he missed Peny when she wasn’t around. He could do with seeing Penny right now. Except. After they’d returned, she’d gone back to her “Yes Mr. Carter No Mr. Carter” routine, which was bloody maddening. He thought they’d grown closer. The thing she’d said, it was like it never happened. He sighed. Then turned as there was a knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ he said, and Terrence popped his head into the office.
‘Can I have a word, Mr. Carter?’
‘Yes. Come in.’ He noticed that Terrence was still in uniform. Normally he did his paper round in his out-of-school clothes. ‘Haven’t you been home?’ he asked.
‘Yes. But I ran here.’
Terrence looked worried. Paul waited. Finally, he had to ask, ‘Is everything alright, Terrence?’
Terrence gave a half-nod. From his pocket he took out a buff envelope. ‘I got this.’ He held it out to Paul. It was from the Education Board. Terrence’s Eleven Plus exam results. It was unopened. ‘Will you open it?’ Terrence asked.
‘Shouldn’t you open this with your mum?’ Paul asked.
‘I said I wanted to open it with you.’
Paul held it out to him. ‘Then you must open it. They’re your results.’
Terrence took a deep breath, took back the envelope. He tore it open. Read it. His expression screwed up as he read. His expression fell. He looked about ready to cry.
Just before closing time Paul was at the counter when Penny arrived at the shop. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I thought you were having a day off.’
‘I was passing.’
‘Penny thinks that if she isn’t here, the place will fall apart,’ Vivien said, winking at her friend.
‘This is very true,’ Penny said. ‘Because it will.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Vivien said. She disappeared into the back kitchen and Paul turned back to Penny. ‘You look fresh,’ he said.
‘Fresh?’
‘You know, bright eyed, healthy.’
‘Healthy?’ She said this like it was some sort of insult. Looking around, she said, ‘The shelves need a tidy.’
‘I was going to…’
Penny interrupted him. ‘…I’ll do it.’
Paul bit his tongue and took a slow, deep breath, watched in silence as she went into the office to hang up her coat. She was doing that thing to him, he thought. He didn’t know what it was called, and he didn’t know its purpose, but she was doing it. She returned and went straight to the bookshelves, began straightening the books. She’s going to begin that bloody humming he thought, and even as he watched her, Penny did indeed begin to hum. Vivien returned with a tray of teacups and placed them behind the counter.
‘Thankyou,’ Paul said, picking up his cup and taking a sip. Tea was neutral ground. Everyone could drink tea and be pleasant to each other, even in the middle of a war. Which he suspected this was, though of what sort, he couldn’t say.
‘Tea up,’ Vivien said, to Penny.
‘Just a minute.
Vivien looked at Paul, raised an eyebrow.
What? he mouthed.
Vivien leaned in. ‘Faint heart,’ she whispered.
‘Oh,’ he said.
At six-fifteen by the clock above the door, Vivien left for home, Penny was still busy tidying the shelves, and Paul was sitting behind the counter, sipping lukewarm tea. He came to a decision, of sorts, though he wasn’t sure what it was or how he was going to achieve his goal. ‘Penny,’ he said. ‘Have you got a moment?’
She looked up from where she knelt, book in hand. ‘Of course.’ She stood and walked over.
‘It’s upstairs. I need a bit of advice.’ He looked at her innocent but quizzical expression and wondered what she was thinking. Did she think he was some sort of letch, asking her up to his flat to see his etchings?
‘Come on then,’ she said, her voice brisk.
They walked through the office and she paused for Paul to push aside the cupboard that hid the door to the stairs, then proceed upwards. ‘We should do something with that room,’ she said, meaning the first floor, which had originally been a dance studio.
‘Isn’t it being used?’
‘Yes, but the dance group only use it twice a week. That barely pays for a cleaner.’
‘I never hear them,’ Paul said.
‘You spent five years firing rifles and blowing things up, you’re hearing is impaired.’
‘And you of course have cat ears.’
‘I do.’ She wiggled her fingers like she was playing piano and this made him smile
They reached the top floor, and Paul paused, racking his brain for the right words. ‘It’s this place, you see?’ She didn’t, that much was obvious from her expression, so he unlocked the door and went inside, Penny following. ‘It’s a bit plain, I know, but it’s what I’m used to. My parents died while I was at school, then the army, then here. I’m not used to,’ he paused, desperately trying to identify the thing he was not used to.
‘It is rather spartan,’ Penny said. The floor was mostly bare boards. The windows lacked curtains. The living room consisted of a sofa, a chair and a radio on a small table.
‘I thought it could do with a woman’s touch,’ Paul said. ‘You could furnish it, decorate. I mean, if you, you know, we could, ahem,’ his mouth went dry. ‘We could do it up, then we could move to a proper house when the time was right…’ He ran out of words. Oh God, he thought. This was terrible. Where had his voice got to? Where had his sense got to?
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘I know you probably have your pick of the chaps, and what you said before, you told me not to respond, and I’ve tried to…’
‘Yes,’ she repeated.
‘But if you could…’
‘Yes. Yes. Yes, Paul.’ She blinked, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You have my answer, in triplicate. Now just ask the bloody question.’
‘Oh.’ He looked nonplussed. ‘I haven’t spoken to your father, or bought… anything and I’m not sure how this goes, but…’ he got down on one knee, quite formal now and began. ‘Penny Ward. I think you are quite wonderful and…’
She began to laugh, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Oh, you beautiful man,’ she said, a sob in her voice. ‘Yes, I will, I do, I want nothing else but this, Paul. Now stand up and kiss me before I ruin my makeup!’
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Yeeeh! Finally! But what happened with Terrence and his exams?
Sweet ... finally!