sat in the House of Lords.
Herault smiled. ‘That’s unfortunate, because I was going to say that if any one of you can convince me that this document is of your making, then you’ll not only go back up to full rations, but you will be allowed certain freedoms about the house and grounds.’
29
Joe pushed one hand over his mouth. Obnoxious as the idea was, he had to wonder if he was Charles. Charles, who knew all the lighthouse specifications and who’d been trained as an engineer. Everyone had said Joe had learned too quickly, at de Méritens’ workshop. And then the lighthouse picture on the postcard would make even more sense, because of course Madeline would have thought that the lighthouse would jog Charles’s memory.
‘Joe.’
He heard it, but hadn’t heard his first name often enough in Kite’s voice to recognise it. He didn’t understand until one of the guards barked ‘Tournier’ right across the room. Everything in him lurched with hope. He stuffed the letter in his pocket, climbed back the way he had come, and found Kite waiting for him.
‘Lord Lawrence wants to meet you,’ he said.
Joe crept through, past the two guards, convinced they were going to stop him. Outside was only two yards more, but it was another world; the cobbled sloping road was empty and shining in the rain, and everything smelled of sweet stone. He hugged Kite with all that was left of his strength, so happy to see him that he was shocked with himself. Kite must have been shocked too, because he stiffened, but then he rested the heels of his hands on Joe’s back.
‘What’s this?’
‘I didn’t think you were coming. Devil you know and that,’ Joe said helplessly.
‘I told you I was coming back.’ Kite’s voice had cracked with surprise. ‘It’s only been fifteen minutes. What happened?’
‘No, nothing, it …’ Joe trailed off, not sure what to say. ‘They’re making things out of straw.’
Kite looked like he had no idea what to do with him, but then he tipped his head to say, shall we go. He only seemed more confused when Joe smiled at him.
Joe started to shiver straight away, but it was delicious after the heat and the stagnant humidity inside. The air was clear, and the sight of Kite had released the pressure on his chest again. A wry little voice pointed out that you were unquestionably in hot water when you were grateful for a familiar murderer. Kite pointed to the left to tell him which way to go.
‘I hope you’ve thought about what you might do for the navy,’ Kite said. Whoever Lord Lawrence was, he had made Kite small. ‘Lawrence isn’t someone to mess about.’
Joe nodded. He hadn’t dedicated any time to it because he had been thinking about how to get away, but he knew what he would say all the same.
Lord Lawrence was a square man in an old-fashioned wig, the long kind, curling unnaturally over a silk jacket. He wasn’t in uniform. Joe knew nothing about the man, but if the room was anything to judge by – oak-panelled, tapestried, and Jesus Christ the tiger rug on the floor had just sat up – it was because Lawrence thought the uniform would look disagreeably tradesman-like. The office must have been partitioned off in haste, just with wooden walls, other voices and steps sounded very close. Despite that, someone had gone to every effort to posh it up. There was a stuffed flamingo by the hearth, feathers rippling. The tiger, a massive thing with liquid muscles, paced across to have a look at him. It shoved its face straight into Joe’s chest just like Clay’s cat. Incredibly, the thing purred when he touched its ears.
‘It’ll be your tobacco,’ Lawrence explained. ‘She loves anyone who smokes. So: you’re our Mr Tournier.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Joe said, struggling, because he wanted to laugh. The tiger had curled up next him, tail round his ankle.
Lawrence smiled. ‘Distracting, ain’t she. Good test of character. So tell me, you’re – what, a lighthouse keeper, is that right?’
‘I’m a mechanic from the workshop that builds lighthouse engines and generators.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful. I imagine there’s very little you’d less prefer to be doing than working for us, but you understand we are preparing for a siege which – if you told Missouri correctly – will finish us entirely if we don’t do something significant.’
Joe nodded. He didn’t remember telling Kite that, but it was still true. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you know any details of