Secret Army - Robert Muchamore Page 0,24

the desk, swiping it out of Joan’s reach as she made a lunge at the cradle to disconnect his call. He placed his hand over the receiver and scowled at Joan. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘You dumped your suitcase in the hall and bolted over here without even saying hello,’ Joan snapped acidly. ‘I’m not doing your washing.’

‘I haven’t asked you to,’ Henderson said.

‘I need to talk,’ Joan said. ‘A proper talk, not a few seconds squeezed in between other people.’

‘Fine,’ Henderson said, as he glanced at his watch, ‘I’ll come over for a cup of tea in twenty minutes.’ Simultaneously he heard a man’s voice through the speaker at his ear. ‘Captain Ramsgate? Yes, yes. I’m Henderson, returning your call.’

As Henderson spoke, McAfferty held the door open and showed Joan out into the hallway.

‘Would you like me to get one of the girls to make tea and bring it over?’ McAfferty asked.

Joan squinted. ‘I can make tea. I’m not completely hopeless, you know.’

McAfferty was just being nice, but Joan had a way of turning innocent remarks into cause for an argument. As Joan headed back towards the farmhouse, McAfferty returned to her desk and listened anxiously to Henderson’s half of the telephone conversation.

Henderson had already sent McAfferty a telegram relaying the poor outcome of his lunch with Air Vice Marshal Walker, but McAfferty knew nothing of what had happened overnight and grew more excited as she listened to Henderson’s conversation.

‘So when are they coming from London?’ McAfferty asked anxiously, as Henderson put the receiver back in its cradle.

‘First train tomorrow.’

‘All right,’ McAfferty said anxiously. ‘We’d better get everyone together in the hall. I think Takada’s driven into town to meet his girlfriend, but everyone else is here.’

It took a few minutes for the staff and kids of Espionage Research Unit B to gather up. Marc tried helping Paul and his bad knee on the stairs, but his smoke-damaged lungs weren’t up to any kind of exertion and PT had to finish the job.

‘If you keep getting cropped at this rate we’ll have no trainees left,’ the fifteen-year-old noted.

There were six members of staff besides Henderson and McAfferty, the trainees from Groups A and B, plus the four younger siblings who’d been recruited with them. The kids eyed one another anxiously, wondering if they were in trouble.

‘Good …’ Henderson said, tailing off as the sonic boom of an artillery shell cracked in the distance. ‘Good afternoon, everyone. I’m sorry to pull you all out of duties and lessons at such short notice, but I’ve just received an important phone call.

‘Our masters at the Special Operations Executive have taken a dislike to my idea of training young people to work undercover. They have decided to hold a review, and it’s been made clear that the intention is to shut our little unit down.’

A shockwave of gasps and ‘no’s rippled across the small hall.

Henderson raised his voice and held out his arms. ‘Calm down, everyone. The battle is far from lost. I’ve enlisted the help of Rear Admiral Hammer. He’s a senior government advisor based in Whitehall. The admiral and his assistant, Captain Ramsgate, will be arriving on the first train tomorrow. They want to see what we’re capable of.

‘My philosophy is to train you as individuals. But these are military men. They’re going to be looking for spit and polish, so I want this place to gleam. I want every floorboard buffed to a high sheen and every wall scrubbed of dirt and finger marks. I want the bathrooms spotless. I want your dorms tidied, cleared of your privacy curtains and your beds lined up and made in military fashion.

‘When this place is immaculate, go to work on yourselves. Shower, cut your nails, comb your hair. I don’t want to see a single balled-up sock or even a speck of dirt under a fingernail. Is that absolutely clear?’

The response was a sharp volley of, ‘Yes, sir’s.

‘Finally, I’m going to choreograph a little demonstration of your shooting and explosives skills for tomorrow morning. Our future depends upon this, so you boys had better impress Admiral Hammer and Captain Ramsgate like you’ve never impressed before. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir!’ came the response.

‘Now, I’m going to divide you into three teams. The first team, led by me, will comprise PT, Rosie, Sam and—’

‘Your afternoon tea is getting cold,’ Joan Henderson shouted, as she steamed into the hall holding a small plate with slice of sponge cake on it. ‘I asked to talk to you.’

‘One