or weak because I cannot speak straight. I want to f-f-f—I want to f-f-f-f—”
She hung on the word so badly her cheeks heated dully, but he didn’t rush to finish her sentence in that way that most people did, the way that filled her with fury. He just sat quietly until she slammed a fist against her skirted knee and the word broke free. She spit it out through clenched teeth, with enough vehemence to startle the cat out of the room.
“I want to fight.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Three straight answers in a row; for Eve it was a record. She sat under his thoughtful gaze, shaking, close to tears.
“So, I ask for the fourth time, and there won’t be a fifth. Do you speak German?”
“Wie ein Einheimischer.” Like a native.
“Excellent.” Captain Cecil Aylmer Cameron rose. “Evelyn Gardiner, would you be interested in entering the Crown’s service as a spy?”
CHAPTER 3
CHARLIE
May 1947
I had vague nightmares of gunshots going off in whiskey glasses, blond girls disappearing behind train cars, a voice whispering, “Le Lethe.” And then there was a man’s voice saying, “Who are you, lass?”
I peeled my gummy eyelids open with a groan. I’d gone to sleep on the broken-down old sofa in the sitting room, not daring to wander about the house looking for a bed when that crazy woman was on the loose with a Luger. I’d unhooked myself from my fluffy traveling suit, curled up under a threadbare knitted throw, and gone to sleep in my slip—and now it was apparently morning. A shaft of sunlight showed through a chink in the heavy curtains, and someone was staring at me from the door: a dark-haired man in a worn old jacket, resting his elbow up against the doorjamb.
“Who are you?” I asked, still half stupefied from sleep.
“I asked first.” His voice was deep, with a hint of a Scots burr to the vowels. “I’ve never known Gardiner to have visitors.”
“She’s not up, is she?” I threw a frantic look behind him. “She threatened to shoot me if I was still here when she got up—”
“Sounds like her,” the Scotsman commented.
I wanted to start rummaging for my clothes, but I wasn’t standing up in my slip in front of a strange man. “I’ve got to get out of here—”
And go where? Rose whispered, and the thought made my head pound. I didn’t know where to go from here; all I’d had was a scrap of paper with Eve’s name. What was left? My eyes burned.
“Don’t bother scrambling,” the Scotsman said. “If Gardiner was right smashed last night, she likely won’t remember a thing.” He turned, shrugging out of his jacket. “I’ll make tea.”
“Who are you?” I started to say, but the door swung shut. After a moment’s hesitation I tossed the blanket aside, my bare arms prickling in the cold. I looked at the mass of my crumpled traveling suit and wrinkled my nose. I had one more dress in my case, but it was just as fluffy and cinched and uncomfortable. So I slipped into an old sweater and a worn pair of dungarees my mother hated, and padded off in bare feet searching for the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours, and the roar of my stomach was fast overcoming everything else, even my fear of Eve’s pistol.
The kitchen was surprisingly clean and bright. The teakettle had been put on, and the table laid. The Scotsman had tossed his worn jacket over a chair, and stood in equally worn shirtsleeves. “Who are you?” I asked, unable to help my own curiosity.
“Finn Kilgore.” He took down a pan. “Gardiner’s man of all work. Help yourself to tea.”
Curious, that he called her just “Gardiner” as though she were a man. “Man of all work?” I wondered, collecting a chipped mug from beside the sink. Aside from the kitchen it didn’t seem like much work was done around this house.
He rummaged in the icebox and came out with eggs, bacon, mushrooms, half a loaf of bread. “Did you got a good gander at her hands?”
“. . . yes.” The tea was strong and dark, just the way I liked it.
“How much do you think she can do with hands like that?”
I gave a little bark of a laugh. “From what I saw last night, she can cock a pistol and uncork the whiskey just fine.”
“She manages those two things. For the rest, she hires me. I run her errands. I collect her post. I drive her when she goes out.