Алистер Маклин: Red Alert

Philpott looked at Carmen.

‘I hope that puts things in a clearer perspective for you, Mrs. Whitlock. Naturally you’ll want to discuss it by yourselves.’ He took two airline tickets from his pocket and placed them on the table. ‘Your flight leaves for Paris from La Guardia tomorrow afternoon. You’ll find a confirmed booking at your hotel when you get there. Two weeks. The bill comes to us. And don’t worry, Mrs. Whitlock, we won’t interrupt your holiday again by recalling C.W. You have my word on that.’

She smiled. It was obvious from her expression that she was far too emotional to speak.

‘Well, I must be on my way.’ Philpott reached for his cane and pulled himself to his feet. ‘Enjoy yourselves.’

‘Thank you, sir. For everything.’

Philpott nodded, then moved to the hall. They both accompanied him, and Whitlock opened the door.

‘Thank you, Colonel,’ Carmen said softly.

Philpott shook her hand.

‘I only hope I’ve been of some help. Oh, and, C.W., don’t forget to send a postcard.’

Whitlock smiled and closed the door behind Philpott. He turned back to Carmen. Her cheeks were streaked with tears.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Nothing,’ she replied and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘Not any more.’