J. Janes: Betrayal

‘As an agent of the Special Operations Executive, Mrs. Fraser. Sworn to secrecy as of this moment for such “agents” do not exist beyond the minds of but a chosen few.’

Her heart still ached from Inishtrahull; she still had nightmares …

‘We will train you, Mrs. Fraser. We will give you every benefit of our diverse knowledge.’

When she looked away from him, he realized that every last particle of her ordeal had suddenly returned. Instinctively she knew exactly what she would have to face in France, a most opportune and healthy sign.

‘I … I’d like to talk to Hamish. The two of us … we’ve been apart, Prime Minister. I need to be with him; he … he needs to be with me.’

‘And the rope?’ he asked, despising himself for the reminder.

‘Yes, I’ll go to France for you but first I want a fortnight with my husband.’

‘A show of anger is always refreshing, Mrs. Fraser. Don’t get yourself pregnant. See that he volunteers for service in North Africa. Everything will be taken care of. Let us get on with this war. Let us crush the Nazis so that they may never again rise up.’

The house in all its Georgian eminence lay in the gathering dusk. Seen from the top of Caitlyn Murphy’s Hill, it drew the night exuding warmth and refuge.

Mary couldn’t believe that she was actually seeing it again. Mrs. Haney would be in her kitchen. Bridget and William were back but the clock, the watch could never be rewound, and she knew this.

Hamish slid an arm about her waist. ‘The IRA would never let us stay here in peace, lass. Och , we both know it and so will Ria.’

Yet they’d have a few days to themselves. ‘Darling, couldn’t we keep it? Couldn’t you persuade Mrs. Haney to look after it for us? Then maybe when this war is over …’

‘Is it that you’ve come to love the house so much you would dare to come back?’

‘You know I have. These people need you, Hamish, and we both need them.’

Mary felt his hand come to rest on the back of her neck, felt him caressing her. Things had been good for them in bed, far more than she’d ever thought possible.

‘There is just a slender hope,’ he said. ‘Let me speak to Ria about it.’

They took their time. The scent of wet hay and peat was in the air, of turf smoke too, and the distant sounds of cowbells and lolling sheep. ‘I love you, Hamish. I want so much for us to have a life together and to have children of our own.’

The simple things that could never be. Mary knew this. They had four days and that was all. Getting permission to return to Ireland to settle the house had been nigh on impossible until the prime minister had intervened.

‘You’ve friends in high places,’ he said, a reminder.

‘Not friends, just people who want to help because …’

‘ Och , I know you can’t tell me where you’ll be going, but I will wait and keep the house for you.’

He could be so archaic when he wanted, would see her tears and shed his own. ‘This war is going to take years, Hamish, but I’ve this feeling inside me that in the end things will turn out for the best.’

Had it been but the kindest of lies? ‘They’re going to send you into France, and I know this, know exactly what you’ll have to face and do. Mr. Churchill had no business …’

She touched his lips to silence him, said ‘Hush, my darling, I will come back, you’ll see, and so will you.’

Together they walked to the car and Hamish drove down the hill to the house, they sitting here for a moment more in the gathering darkness.

He’d a fistful of one- and five-pound notes, the counterfeiting so good it would have been extremely difficult to tell the difference if one didn’t know that the banks had all been alerted.

‘Ria will take these to someone who will see that they get into the right hands. Men died for these, Mary, but maybe if others know that the Nazis are swindlers, they’ll want to keep quiet about it and will let us come home someday.’

The light of a storm lantern lit up the car. The waiting had been too patient. ‘These goings on,’ clucked Ria under her breath but beamed as the doctor got out and went round to hold the door open for his wife.

‘Ah and sure them blackout regulations can be set aside the moment, Doctor. ’Tis terrible glad I am t’ see the two of you home and safe. Now it is, it surely is. William, be sharp with them bags. Bridget … Bridget, girl, didn’t I tell you to curtsey?’

There’d be no dust. No thoughts of anyone bothering them.

Mary found herself hugging the woman. It was as if she had come home, as if she would never have to leave.

1One hundred fathoms equals 640 feet.