James Benn - The Rest Is Silence

“I wonder who they are,” Kaz said idly. “And how they reacted to David’s injury.”

“Let’s find out,” I said.

Williams directed us to the library for drinks before dinner. The hallway carpets were deep and plush, absorbing the sound of our footsteps. But not the voices coming from the library.

“You had better think of something , Edgar.” A woman’s voice, hushed but unable to contain itself. “We only have so much time.”

“I will, I will.” A man, probably Edgar. Kaz laid his hand on my arm and we backed up a few steps, not wanting to intrude. The voices followed us.

“Think of the children-although I don’t know why you’d start now. You should have thought of them first, Edgar. We shall have to take them out of school. I’ve already warned them, and I told them it was all your fault.”

“Why would you say such a thing, dear?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Her voice was lower, throaty and demanding. Edgar went silent as the clink of glassware echoed in the room. Kaz and I took that as our cue to enter. There were only two people in the room, the same couple we’d seen earlier.

“Hello,” the man said, with no trace of the previous conversation in his greeting. “You must be David’s guests. Edgar Shipton. This is my wife, Meredith. Sir Rupert is her father.”

“Lieutenant Piotr Kazimierz, at your service. This is Captain Billy Boyle.”

“But it’s Baron, isn’t it?” Meredith Shipton said as Kaz gave her hand a kiss. I settled for a limp shake. “At least, that’s what David told us. I didn’t know the Poles had barons, but why not?”

“Indeed,” Kaz said. “Yes, I am a baron of the Augustus Clan and would be pleased to be addressed as such.”

“And you, Captain Boyle?” Meredith said, turning her attention to me. She had penetrating hazel eyes, glints of green reflecting off the emerald dress she wore. Not a beautiful woman, but striking. She exuded health and strength, and I’d have bet she was used to getting what she wanted.

“From the Boyle clan of Boston. And I’d be pleased if you’d call me Billy.”

“I think I shall,” Meredith said, smiling over the cocktail raised to her lips. She seemed as delighted to meet an informal Yank as a Polish aristocrat. “Edgar, please see to drinks for our guests.” Edgar did her bidding. He seemed used to it, and smiled as if indulging her, which I guessed he was also used to doing.

Kaz asked for whiskey and soda. I told Edgar I’d have whatever he was drinking, which turned out to be a large whiskey, no soda. It’s a little trick Dad taught me. It establishes a bond and tells you something about the person you’ve just met. Everyone likes to be flattered, and showing you trust a person’s taste in booze is gratifying to them. Every now and then, I end up with a Pink Lady, but it generally turns out well.

“You’re both with SHAEF, I see,” Edgar said as he handed me the whiskey in a cut-crystal glass that cost more than the whole bottle. “You chaps must be working day and night, what with the invasion coming up.”

“We really can’t say anything about that,” I said. It was true, but not for the reason I led Edgar to believe.

“Ah, security, certainly. But all signs point to it, Captain Boyle. All of Devon’s thick with American troops moving towards the coast. We see convoys every day, and tent cities springing up everywhere. The current witticism is that one can cross the River Dart at Dartmouth simply by stepping from one landing craft to another.” Edgar chuckled, and I went along with the gag. It was almost true, from what we’d seen today.

“Do you live here, or are you visiting as well?” I asked Edgar. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe too old for service, maybe not. I knew he had kids, and there was probably an exemption for an older married man with children. He had some grey flecked through his short brown hair and a bit of a paunch, but he held himself well.

“Here, temporarily,” he said, and his eyes sought out Meredith. “We’ve recently returned from India. I was in the civil service there, and I’m looking for a position now. Meredith wished to visit her father, and Sir Rupert was so kind as to invite us to stay for a while.”

“I’m sure the Foreign Office needs people with experience in that part of the world,” I said.

“Edgar’s already been to the Foreign Office, haven’t you, dear?” Meredith said, gliding in between us. “Any joy?” I was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“Nothing yet, no.” Edgar met her eyes dead on. A challenge?

“Did you enjoy India?” I asked Meredith, feeling uncomfortable with their exchange.

“I loved it,” she said, clasping her hand on Edgar’s arm as if there was no discord between them. “Father was with the civil service in the Raj as well, for eighteen years. I was practically raised there. I adore India, except for that creature Gandhi and the India National Congress.”

“They’re for independence from England,” Edgar explained, catching the blank look on my face. I knew who Gandhi was; he was famous enough. But Indian politics was not my strong suit.

“And for the Japanese as well,” Meredith said. “Some of them in the National Congress, anyway.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Kaz said.

“What? Oh, of course,” Meredith said. “Still, I don’t see why they should look upon us as the enemy. So many Indian soldiers are fighting the Germans in Italy, aren’t they?”

“How long were you there this time?” I asked Meredith, trying to turn the conversation away from British imperialism. As a good Irishman, I was bound to say something unpleasant before long, and I was a guest here.

“Only two years,” Meredith said, with a hooded stare in Edgar’s direction.

“Sorry I’m late,” David said from the doorway, a well-timed distraction. “Helen will be down shortly.”

“David, the baron and Billy are absolutely delightful. I’m so glad you invited them,” Meredith said, smiling in David’s direction. She didn’t avoid looking at him, and Edgar served up a drink in no time. I was glad to see David readily accepted. The English are rightly famous for their stiff upper lips, but they also tend to hide the occasional inconvenient truth. David’s face was a truth that some families, in their comfortable libraries on their country estates, might prefer to keep locked away. Or maybe my Irish was up, and I was being uncharitable to the whole race.

“Yes, I’m glad it worked out,” David said. “It would be a shame to lose contact with old university friends, wouldn’t it?”

“I agree,” Edgar said. “I still correspond with several. You read modern languages at Oxford, if I recall. Which college?”

“Balliol,” Kaz said. “A fascinating experience, with students from many nations.

“Yes,” David said. “That was when there was still hope for a Europe without war. I thought understanding language would be a key to understanding people. Instead, we’re learning to kill one another. But at least Piotr can put his knowledge to good use these days. Translation, isn’t that what you do at SHAEF?”

“It was,” Kaz said, and sipped his whiskey and soda.

“We work in the Office of Special Investigations,” I said. Why not give Kaz a boost in the eyes of his pal?

“Investigating what?” Edgar asked.

“Whatever they tell us to,” Kaz said. “We cannot say much more, unfortunately.”

“Sorry, Piotr,” David said. “I should have known you didn’t earn that scar translating German.”

“Are you spies?” Meredith asked, a hint of mischief in her voice. Or was she adroitly moving the conversation away from the subject of facial injuries?