two and a half thousand of your countrymen volunteered to fight in it. Men and women. All ordinary working-class people. Almost five hundred of them were Jewish.That was before the Second World War had even begun, remember.’
Victor could not ignore the way Louisa was looking at Stratton. He detected a new connection between them. There was certainly none of the conflict that had existed before.
A large painting on the wall caught Stratton’s attention. It was a battle scene, a panorama of explosions and of men on horseback.
‘It’s from one of the battles of the Jarama Valley,’ Louisa said as if reading his thoughts.
Stratton shook his head, none the wiser.
‘The painting belonged to my father,’ Sebastian said. ‘He was there . . . not fighting, of course. He was only six years old. Some say it was the last great cavalry charge in Western Europe. You see the white horse in the centre?’
Stratton nodded as he studied the painting more closely. The horsemen were led by a man on a powerful white horse, all charging towards a river with defensive positions beyond.
‘That was his father. My grandfather. Louisa’s great-grandfather. My father watched him die that day. He led five hundred horsemen. Flesh and blood charging tanks and machine guns. It was described as a foolish act by many. They rode without the support of artillery. Sixty per cent of them were cut down before they were even halfway to their objective. My grandfather was not one of the first to die even though he was at the head of the charge. All those around him were killed or wounded but he rode on alone, regardless. Who knows why? Perhaps it was the madness of battle. I like to think it was an act of defiance, a message to the Nationalists. He wanted them to know they would not take the valley while men like him still held it. He was right in that, at least. The Republicans had lost many battles in that war but they denied Franco the valley and, in so doing, Madrid too. We lost the war but not our pride.’
There was silence while everyone saw obvious parallels between that war and this.
Sebastian got to his feet. ‘I have work to do so I’m going to bid you all goodnight,’ he said.
‘Goodnight,’ Stratton said, getting to his feet and offering his hand.
Sebastian took it as a final goodbye and smiled. ‘I hope to see you again,’ he said. He shook hands with Stratton and left.
Silence hung in the air only to be broken by the sound of a sudden downpour outside.
‘This chicken is very good,’ Stratton said as he sat back down.
‘I thought it was rabbit,’ Victor said.
‘It’s guinea fowl,’ Louisa stated.
Victor raised his hands in disgust at his lost ability to recognise a taste. ‘I am no longer French.’ He took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, blowing the smoke at the ceiling. ‘Marlo has left us,’ he said matter-of-factly.
Louisa saw the implications of the news immediately. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.
‘With his two lieutenants, Carlo and Fernandez.’
‘When?’
‘Yesterday. After the explosions,’ Victor said.
‘Why?’
Victor shrugged. ‘He does not confide in me.’
‘But you must have your suspicions.’
‘Marlo is the kind of man who would jump from a ship if it was taking water before going below to see if he could fix it.’
‘Do you think he had anything to do with the booby trap?’ Louisa asked.
Victor shrugged again as he drew on his cigar. ‘My gut reaction is no. Marlo was never really one of us but I don’t think he would do anything like that.’
‘Where would they go?’ Louisa asked.
‘Perhaps they are waiting to see what happens.’
‘I didn’t trust him anyway.’
‘That’s not the point,’ Victor said. ‘He was respected by many of the men as a good field officer. It will affect morale. Many have had cause to lose confidence these past few days.’
‘Have you told Sebastian?’ Louisa asked as she removed some plates from the table and took them into the kitchen.
‘I was going to tell him tonight. I’ll leave it until tomorrow. It doesn’t make much difference. We are set on our course. People will either come with us or get off the bus.’
There was a loud knock on the door.
‘I’ll go,’ Victor said, getting to his feet.
As soon as he opened the door a jovial voice boomed ‘Victor!’
Victor was mildly shocked. ‘Colonel Steel.’ He stepped back to let the man in. ‘This is a surprise.’