Then he said, in a cold voice. “She is not my beloved, and you may cut her into little pieces for all I care. But it will not make me change my mind. I will not betray my colleagues and my country, whatever you do. But I must state that I find it dishonourable that you should torture somebody else to try to extract information from me. I am sorry if this woman tried to help in a misguided sense of loyalty to me. However, if you sent me to Switzerland, I should come straight back and join the Resistance again. Why don’t we stop wasting each other’s time, and you kill me right now?”
Margot pulled the wedge out of her bleeding finger and stood up. “Take me away,” she said. “I will do what you want.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
At Farleigh
After breakfast the next morning, Ben cycled over to Farleigh—to check on the damage, he told his father. At first glance, it appeared that nothing had changed: The horse chestnuts still bloomed. Swans were still swimming on the lake, and the great house stood, strong and defiant against a blustery sky. But the smell of burning lingered in the air, and the wind tossed down burnt fragments like a fine black shower. Then he noticed that the top-floor windows were open, and net curtains flapped out as if appealing for help. He shuddered again when he thought what might have happened to Pamela if he hadn’t been there. The beam would have fallen on her. She might have been overcome by smoke inhalation, and she would only have been found much later. He remembered the feel of her body against his as he flung her forward. The way their hearts thudded in time. Then he shook his head firmly.
Get a grip, Cresswell, he said to himself.
As he dismounted and wheeled his bike up to the front steps, he encountered Phoebe coming across the forecourt with the dogs at her heels. She was dressed in riding breeches and a cotton shirt.
“Ben!” She beamed on seeing him. He was still being accorded hero status.
“Hello, Feebs. Been riding?” he asked.
“No, Pah wouldn’t let me. He said things might be going on, and I’d get in the way. People looking into the bomb, you know. Actually, I’ve been helping Gumbie move her things. She’s being put in one of the groom’s flats over the stables, now we’re down to one groom. She’s not at all happy about it. Well, I wouldn’t be, either. There’s only cold water, and it does smell of horse.” She kicked at the gravel, then looked up at the house. “I said she should have Margot’s bedroom, since she’s not likely to need it, but Pah said that standards had to be kept up, and it was not right for the staff to sleep on the same floor as the family, even if there was a war on.”
Ben grinned. It was such a typical thing for someone like Lord Westerham to say. Not admitting that anything was allowed to change, even when the whole world was disintegrating around him. He stooped to pet the dogs, who were wagging tails furiously. “Apart from being moved to a stable room, how is she feeling this morning?”
Phoebe made a face. “Still a bit weepy, I’m afraid. Some of her things were damaged when water dripped down from up above. Her books and papers, you know. They were very precious to her.”
“Was she writing a book?”
“Some kind of thesis or treatise or whatever you call it. She’s very brainy, you know. She had to leave Oxford when her parents died and her brother turned her out with no money.”
“Poor Miss Gumble.”
“I know. I felt terrible when she told me.”
“Is her paper to do with astronomy?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because I wondered why she had a telescope.”
“Oh, I think she does bird-watching.” Phoebe grinned. “The telescope’s not big enough for astronomy. She managed to save that. And quite a few of her books. And we’ve put the rest of her books and her papers to dry out on the table in the conservatory.”
“And everyone else is okay?” he asked.
“Oh yes. Mah is very cross with Pah that he took such risks up on the roof, but I think he’s feeling jolly pleased with himself, especially as Farleigh was saved.”
“I wonder why on earth anyone would want to drop a bomb on Farleigh,” Ben said.
Phoebe looked at him, her head tilted to one side like a bird’s. “Perhaps it had something to do with that German spy.”
Ben looked at her with surprise. It was unsettling to have a twelve-year-old echoing his own suspicions as calmly as if she were talking about the weather. “German spy?” he asked.
“Yes, you know. The man who fell into our field. Alfie and I found him, you know. And we reckon he had to be a German spy.”
“What made you think that?” Ben asked.
“Well, he was wearing the uniform of the West Kents, but they don’t jump out of planes. So we thought his plan was probably to make his way to Biggin Hill Aerodrome and spy on our planes, or else go up to London and blow up Westminster Abbey or something. But now this has happened, now our house got bombed, I’m starting to wonder whether the two things might be connected. Is there someone or something at Farleigh that the Germans want destroyed?”
Before he could answer, he heard footsteps and looked up to see Pamela and Livvy coming down the steps.
“Ben, how lovely,” Pamela said. “Are you recovered from last night’s ordeal?”
“Except for lack of sleep,” Ben said, returning her smile. “I came to see how everyone was this morning.”
“We’ve all survived remarkably well. Pah was so cheerful at breakfast you’d have thought something good happened instead of his house nearly going up in flames.”
“He’s just relieved it didn’t,” Livvy said. “And thank God we came back when we did. If we’d dilly-dallied a little longer at the Prescotts, who would have saved little Charles? I can’t bear to think of it.”
“One hopes that Nanny would have,” Pamela said.
Livvy shook her head angrily. “She’d have been useless. You saw her last night. A quivering jelly.”
“Well, all’s well now,” Ben said. “And the servants? How are they taking it?”
“Ruby’s still a bit weepy, and none of them like the idea of camping out in the butler’s pantry and a disused storeroom, but it’s better than the rain coming in onto them,” Pamela said, smiling at Ben. “Actually, the army chaps have already been round this morning to survey the damage, and they say they can requisition supplies to fix the roof, which is jolly good news. And they offered to make a couple of rooms available in their part of the house for our servants.” She chuckled. “Mah rejected that offer. She said she wasn’t having her girls sleeping anywhere near a pack of soldiers. I think she was quite right. Our parlourmaid is not to be trusted around men, and Ruby could easily be led astray.”
“I’ve just written to Teddy,” Livvy said. “He’d want to hear that his wife and son were in danger but survived. I just wish he weren’t so far away. Why couldn’t they let me accompany him to the Bahamas? I wouldn’t have got in the way of his duties with the duke.”
“It’s a war, Livvy,” Pamela said. “Think of all those men being shipped around the world, leaving their wives and children behind. There would be no reason for you to get special treatment.”
“We are friends of the Duke of Windsor. That should count for something,” Livvy said stiffly.
“Not very much at the moment. I would say that the Duke of Windsor is more liability than asset,” Pamela replied.
“I think he’s been very unfairly treated,” Livvy said.
“Because he took his wife to visit Hitler in his lair?” Pamela demanded. Then she looked up, and her face broke into a smile. “Look who’s coming,” she said. And Ben turned to see the Prescotts’ sleek Rolls coming up the drive.