an old man in a blue naval uniform liberally adoined with medals. His fine beard reminded Wladek of the Baron. A soldier appe;ired from nowhere and saluted.
'Take this boy, Corporal Smithers, and see that he gets a bath. Then feed him in the kitchens. When he has eaten and smells a little less like a walking pigsty, bring him to my office.'
'Yes, sir," said the corporal and saluted.
'Come with me, my lad.' The soldier marched away. Wladek followed him obediently, having to run to keep up with his walking pace. He was taken to the basement of the embassy and left in a little room; this time it had a window. The corporal told him to get undressed and then left him on his own. He returned a few minutes later to find Wladek still sitting on the edge of the bed fully dressed, dazedly twisting the silver band around and around his wrist.
'Hurry up, lad; you're not on a rest cure.'
'Sorry, sir,' Wladek said.
'Don't call me sir, lad. I am Corporal Smithers. You call me corporal.'
'I am Wladek Koskiewicz. You call me Wladek.'
'Don't be funny with me, lad. We've govenough funny people in the British army without you wishing to join their ranks.'
Wladek did not understand what the soldier meant. He undressed quickly.
'Follow me at the double!
Another marvellous bath with hot water and soap. WIadek thought of his Russian protectress, and of the son he might have become to her but for her husband. A new set of clothes, strange but clean and fresh - smelling.
Whose son had they belonged to? The soldier was back at the door.
Corporal Smithers took Wladek to the kitchen and left him with a fat, pink - faced cook, with the warmest face he had seen since leaving Poland.
She reminded him of niania. Whidek could not help wondering what would happen to her waistline after a few weeks in camp 201.
'Hello,' she said with a beaming smile. 'What's your name, then?'
Wladek told her.
'Well, laddie, it looks as though you could do with a good British meal inside of you - none of this Turkish muck will suffice. We'll start with some hot soup and beef. You'll need something substantial if you're to face Mr. Prendergast.' She laughed. 'Just remember, his bite's not as bad as his bark. Although he is an Englishman, his heart's in the right place.'
'You are not an English, Mrs. Cook?' asked Wladek, surprised.
'Good Lord no, laddie, I'm Scottish. There's a world of difference. We hate the English mor ' e than the Germans do,' she said, laughing. She set a dish of steaming soup, thick with meat and vegetables, in front of Wladek. He had entirely forgotten that food could smell and taste so appetising. He ate the meal slowly for fear it might not happen again for a very long time.
The corporal reappeared. 'Have you had enough to eat, my lad?'
'Yes, thank you, Mr. Corporal!
The corporal gave Wladek a suspicious look, but he saw no trace of cheek in the boy's expression. 'Good, then let's be moving. Can't be late on parade for Mr. Prendergast!
The corporal disappeared through the kitchen door, and Wadek stared at the cook. He hated always having to say goodbye to someone he'd just met, especially when they had been so kind.
'Off you go, laddie, if you know what's good for you.'
'Thank you, Mrs. Cook,' said Wladek. 'four food is best I can ever remember.'
The cook smiled at him. He again had to limp hard to catch up with the corporal, whose marching pace still kept Wladek trotting. The soldier came to a brisk halt outside a door that Whidek nearly ran into.
'Look where you're going, my lad, look where you're going!
The corporal gave a short rap - rap on the door.
'Come,' said a voice.
The corporal opened the door and saluted. 'The Polish boy, sir, as you requestecl, scrubbed and fed!
'Thank you, Corporal. Perhaps you would be kind enough to ask Mr. Grant to join us!
Edward Prendergast looked up from his desk. He waved Wladek to a seat without speaking and continued to work at some papers. Wladek sat looking at him and then at the portraits on the wall. More generals and admirals and that old, bearded gentleman again, this time in khaki army uniform.
A few minutes later the other Englishman he remembered from the market square came in.
'Thank you for joining us, Harry. Do have a seat, old boy.
Mr. Prendergast turned to Wladek. 'Now, my lad, let's hear your story from the beginning,