anxiously.
‘Affirmative.’
Presently, the boat finally approached a wooden jetty protruding past a graveyard of rusting and rotting hulls of long-ago bomb-damaged vessels lying beached on the silted banks of the river.
The pilot reversed the engine, churning water noisily behind them and slowing the boat down as a couple of soldiers up front waited at the prow to hop over the side on to the end of the jetty.
‘Just hope this isn’t mistaken as some sort of amphibious invasion,’ Maddy found herself muttering under her breath.
‘Negative,’ said Becks. ‘There are too few troops for this to be an effective assault.’
Maddy sighed. ‘Duh, really?’
The boat thudded gently against the jetty and the two soldiers dropped on to the creaking wooden planks, quickly securing a line to a mooring kleet.
Devereau was first on to the wooden planks. ‘Allow me,’ he said, offering a hand to Maddy as she prepared to jump down to join him.
‘Oh, what a gentleman!’ She grasped hold of his hand gratefully. ‘Thank you.’
Becks was next. Devereau offered her his hand.
‘I will not be needing assistance,’ she said, casually leaping down with a heavy thud of firmly planted trainers.
‘Obviously you don’t.’ Devereau shrugged. ‘Sergeant Freeman?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘You and half a dozen men along with us. The rest to stay on the launch.’
Maddy looked around.
She shivered. The morning was still fresh and cool, the clear September sky stained a beautiful salmon pink by the rising sun.
‘Don’t be nervous, Madelaine,’ said Becks. ‘I am with you.’
She grasped the support unit’s hand. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied, ‘just a bit cold, that’s all.’
Devereau joined them.
‘What happens now?’ asked Maddy.
Her question was answered with movement. At the far end of the jetty, a welcoming committee had assembled. She saw a dozen men in uniforms remarkably similar in design to Devereau and his men, only a dusty grey instead of a dark blue. Leading an escort of armed men was an officer in his late thirties, sporting a dark beard like Colonel Devereau, only clipped in a way that reminded Maddy of some jaunty, laughing cavalier.
A dozen yards short of them he stopped. With a theatrical flourish he whipped off his felt slouch cap to reveal long sandy hair, and bowed like an actor taking a curtain call.
‘Colonel Devereau! What a pleasant surprise!’ he smiled. ‘Unless I’ve completely lost track of the date … It’s quite a few weeks yet until Thanksgiving, is it not?’
‘Colonel Wainwright.’ Devereau stepped forward and extended his hand. ‘Indeed. I’m not over here to share our annual bottle of sherry.’
Wainwright shrugged. ‘More’s the pity.’
Devereau gestured towards Maddy and Becks. ‘I have with me a couple of … ladies, who are, shall I say … in need of some assistance.’
Wainwright cocked an eyebrow. ‘Assistance?’
‘Yes.’ Devereau took a step closer to the Southern colonel. ‘James –’ he lowered his voice for Wainwright alone to hear – ‘they have quite an intriguing tale to tell. Very … very intriguing.’
‘Something for my ears alone, is it, Bill?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Important, I assume?’
‘Very.’
Wainwright thoughtfully stroked the side of his face for a moment. ‘We shall have to be discreet, old friend … I’ve got visitors in this sector.’
‘British?’
He nodded. ‘Top brass … a routine inspection of our defence network going on in the sector next door to mine.’ He grinned. ‘I suspect they might take a dim view of my consorting with the enemy.’
‘Then perhaps we shouldn’t waste any time standing out here.’
‘Quite.’ He looked past Devereau. ‘Ladies! Pleasure to make your acquaintance! Bill … why don’t you come with me? As it happens I’ve just put some rather decent coffee on.’
Devereau allowed Maddy to take the lead in explaining her situation, with Becks clarifying the finer technical points every now and then – technical points as wasted on the Southern colonel as they’d been on the Northern colonel.
Wainwright sat poker-faced through half an hour, one expression on his face: a courteous tolerance. Like a friendly old man listening to a child’s tall story.
Maddy finished, and sipped cold coffee.
‘Well … that is a devil of a thing,’ Wainwright said eventually. He looked at Colonel Devereau. ‘William? What do you make of this?’
‘I would happily have locked her up and considered her to be one of your spies had she not shown me glimpses of her world.’
The Southern colonel’s tawny eyebrows rose with curiosity.
Devereau tapped a shoulder bag Maddy had cradled in her lap. ‘Show him the things you have brought along.’
Maddy nodded, dipped into the bag and pulled out a copy of Wired magazine. ‘I buy them occasionally. This is September’s