Kite said. He pulled out what looked like a Responsibility Card from his pocket, but it was just a ration book with his name on it. ‘But I don’t have the keys, and I was hoping … well, that you had a set.’
It was strange to hear Kite talking like a normal human being. He’d switched the naval captain off. He was anxious. Joe stayed close, ready to step in and be persuasive.
The man’s expression opened. ‘You’re Missouri Kite.’
‘Yes,’ Kite said, not sounding sure whether it was something he ought to confess to or not.
‘Jesus,’ the man said. ‘You just smashed through the blockade to get in here.’
‘We – yes.’
‘Yes? Be more pleased with yourself, mate. The Admiralty’s done bugger all about it, just as well you’ve shown them how it’s done. I’ll get that key.’
He looked through some drawers, then gave Kite an old envelope with a key-shaped indent outlining what was inside. ‘Come down for a drink, won’t you, once you’re …’ He studied them both and struggled for something that would be sufficient and polite at the same time. ‘Presentable,’ he decided eventually. Somebody, he added, would bring up some water. There was only one bath upstairs, but the marines were welcome to use the hot water in the stables.
Hot water in the stables. They had hot water just for people’s horses. The marines looked delighted. Kite nodded to say they could go.
There was only one door at the top of the narrow stairs. Kite had to negotiate with the key. When it turned, the room beyond was dark and cold. He passed Joe a lamp to hold against the flame of the one in the corridor. Once it was lit, he took it around the others one by one.
The room presented itself in portions. There was a desk full of books and papers, and a string with letters pegged on it, all in the same handwriting. By the fireplace were two ornate chairs that matched, and one, cheaper, that didn’t. That must have been Kite’s standing with Jem and Agatha, right there. Joe had to thump his fist against the wall. He had liked Agatha a lot, but after meeting her uncle, and seeing this, he wanted to spit. This was what people in France had fought a revolution to kill off. In fact, this might even be why some of the French captains in the bay had decided to serve. To try and save people like Kite from people like this, before they turned into what Kite was now.
Up a flight of steps was a bedroom. The windows were diamond-paned and unshuttered, and the bay glistered outside until the light inside was too strong and the glass only showed their reflections. Turkish rugs covered the floorboards. Four boxes full of dead plants hung in a corner that would have been sunny during the day.
After a few minutes, a pair of boys came through with pails of water. Joe watched them go into another room down a narrow corridor. There was a rush of pouring water into something metal. They made another two trips, and then Kite shut the front door, looking glad to do it.
‘You go first,’ he said to Joe.
‘No, I’m always last at home, I don’t mind,’ Joe said, though he was sticky. He was so cold that he didn’t want to take any clothes off yet. He was fast finding that, as the temperature dropped, the level of grime he could put up with see-sawed accordingly. ‘Anyway, you need to get those cuts clean.’
There was no door, just a wooden archway, and Kite glanced back to make sure Joe wasn’t in a direct line of sight before he disappeared inside.
Joe sat on the hearth with his back to the fire. It seemed intrusive to notice, but he could hear the difference between the heavy coat and the thin shirt as Kite took them off. He could hear that Kite was folding everything onto a chair or a windowsill, not just letting it drop. It was taking him a long time. ‘Are you all right?’ Joe said, starting to worry that leaving Kite alone was nothing but medical negligence.
‘Say again? I can’t hear very well.’
Joe lost his nerve. Kite was fine. ‘I say what happens now?’ he asked instead.
‘Dinner and sleep.’
With the back of his shirt lukewarm, Joe went to the archway and sat down across the threshold. The room was whitewashed, with bare rafters. There was nothing in it but them, the