Chapter Five
FIVE
Gwen was ten minutes late to work the next morning, something that never happened.
She was also wearing the same outfit she had had on the previous day, a Herschelle linen suit with a blue and white willow pattern.
Both Iris and Mrs Billington noticed the repetition.
Mrs Billington chose discretion and made no comment.
Iris, on the other hand, stared at her partner in shock and tapped her wristwatch pointedly.
‘What?’ asked Gwen as she unpinned her hat and hung it up.
‘Why, Mrs Bainbridge, how can we run a tight ship when you are so lacking in punctuality?’ Iris demanded sternly.
‘How many times have you been late?’ retorted Gwen as she took her seat.
‘I stopped counting long ago,’ said Iris. ‘But I make up for my missed minutes by my superior efficiency.’
‘Of course you do,’ said Gwen.
‘Did you make up for enough lost time last night to stay through lunch again?’ asked Iris.
‘I did,’ said Gwen. ‘What’s happening at lunch today?’
‘Miss Lowle is coming in for a briefing.’
‘Ah. Wonderful,’ said Gwen with a grimace of distaste. ‘How do we do that?’
‘She asks us what she needs to know, and we tell her. Then we give her contact information to Tony.’
‘And then we’re done.’
‘And then we’re done.’
‘Unless he’s exonerated,’ said Gwen. ‘In which case, we have to make a genuine effort to find him a wife.’
‘Right,’ said Iris.
‘You’re sounding more dubious about that prospect today,’ said Gwen.
‘The idea of Tony settling down after his extremely adventurous life doesn’t seem a likely possibility,’ said Iris.
‘People change,’ said Gwen. ‘He may be more realistic about his prospects now.’
‘Or he’s slithering his way up the ladder of authority, if the Brigadier is correct,’ said Iris. ‘We shall see.’
The Miss Lowle who arrived a few minutes after their lunch hour began was a different Miss Lowle from the one they had first met. Her manner was now almost brusque in her address and questions, and her accent could have passed for upper-crust London in its tones.
Is that her true voice, or another character being done for our benefit? wondered Gwen.
‘So he took the bait?’ Lowle asked.
‘He signed up for our services,’ said Sparks. ‘We normally send a letter to the gentleman with the lady’s telephone number. Do you want us to use your number at the ministry?’
‘Yes, that would be best,’ she said. ‘I don’t want my new landlady getting nosy about all this. How did Danforth seem to you about the idea?’
‘Interested,’ said Sparks.
‘Ironic,’ added Mrs Bainbridge.
‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Lowle.
‘He is amused by what we do,’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘On the one hand, he seems genuinely interested in finding a partner in life. But on the other, he thinks finding one through a professional agency is strange.’
‘Then I shall feel the same about it,’ said Lowle. ‘A mutual disdain for the norms, covering what? Some real loneliness underneath, right?’
‘That’s … that’s actually good,’ said Sparks, impressed in spite of herself.
‘What about the war?’ asked Lowle. ‘Is that something he likes to talk about?’
‘Not so far,’ said Sparks. ‘He didn’t want to talk about Spain when he got back from that one, and he was fairly close-mouthed about China when I saw him the other night. Mind you, given the clandestine nature of his assignments there, he may not discuss it at all.’
‘But he’s been overseas for eight years,’ she said. ‘It would be natural for me to be curious about that, having never been.’
‘Just don’t pry,’ advised Sparks. ‘You’re not going to get much out of him at first meeting. Your objective is to get a second date, then a third, and so on.’
‘String him along, keep him interested,’ said Lowle. ‘Make him fall in love with me if I can. What sort of woman attracts him?’
The two partners didn’t answer.
‘Well, come on, then,’ said Lowle irritably. ‘I can’t go into this blindfolded.’
‘Someone like Miss Sparks,’ said Mrs Bainbridge reluctantly.
‘Really?’ exclaimed Lowle, looking at Sparks in curiosity and disbelief. ‘And here I was thinking I’d have to fake upper-class for him. What is it about you that he fancies?’
‘My brain,’ said Sparks. ‘Can you fake one of those?’
‘He read History and Classics at Cambridge,’ she replied. ‘I got top marks in both in Manchester. I can hold my own. What else?’
‘He’s looking for a diplomat’s wife on the surface,’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘I take it you speak French?’
‘Fluently. And German. And Russian. I wouldn’t have got picked for this assignment if I didn’t.’
‘Can you dance?’ asked Sparks.
‘Ballroom or jitterbug?’ asked Lowle. ‘I can do both, as it happens. What did the two of you talk about when you were in school together?’
‘Everything under the sun,’ said Sparks. ‘History, politics, books, films.’
‘What sort of books? You made the recent connection at a bookshop. What was he buying?’
‘A book of Asian languages and a copy of Thucydides.’
‘Oh, God, do I have to read about the Peloponnesian War again? That was a slog and a half.’
‘It would endear you to him immensely,’ said Sparks.
‘But don’t be smarter than him,’ said Mrs Bainbridge.
‘That’s true of every man on every date,’ said Lowle with a laugh. ‘You should have seen me asking that poor bloke about tying flies the other night. How did he like me, by the way?’
‘He liked you,’ said Mrs Bainbridge shortly. ‘He was very disappointed that you turned him down after.’
‘Oh, Lord,’ she said, sighing with exasperation. ‘Good luck with that one. You should probably marry him off to a fish.’
‘In fact, he’s decided to drop our services,’ said Mrs Bainbridge.
‘Has he?’ she said with an absolute lack of surprise. ‘Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Right, so back to Danforth. You said he likes films, too?’
‘Yes.’
‘What kinds?’
‘Romances, musicals,’ said Sparks, thinking back. ‘Costume epics, but he liked to point out all the errors and anachronisms.’
‘So he likes to show off his big brain,’ she said. ‘Typical Cambridge type. Good, I think I’ve got a handle on him. Do you think he’s a commie? Still a commie, I mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sparks. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
‘My job to find out,’ she said. ‘Well, it’s back to the ministry for me, and then I get to spend my free time rereading Thucydides, e?ge, e?ge! I guess this is the last time we’ll see each other. His Majesty’s government thanks you for your assistance in this matter.’
‘Did the Brigadier tell you to say that?’ asked Sparks.
‘No,’ said Lowle. ‘That was genuine. From me. I do take this assignment seriously, Miss Sparks. I was too young for the recent war, but I am going to fight this one with every breath in my body.’
‘Good luck to you,’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘And be safe.’
‘Thanks,’ she said.
She opened the door, gave them a quick wave, then headed towards the stairs.
‘I almost liked her for a moment at the end,’ said Gwen. ‘You’re still competing with her, by the way.’
‘I know,’ grumbled Iris. ‘She sets me off for some reason.’
‘You can’t see why?’
‘I suppose you can.’
‘She’s doing what you used to do, and thought you would do well,’ said Gwen. ‘And despite the unhappy end to your adventures in espionage, you still miss it.’
‘Maybe,’ said Iris. ‘You’ve given me a head start on my session with Dr Milford this afternoon. I’ll have Saundra send a letter to Tony. What a week it’s been! And it’s only Thursday. What have you planned for the weekend?’
‘I’m going out to the Bainbridges’ estate to visit Ronnie and John,’ said Gwen.
‘Is Sally going?’
‘Weekends are his busy time at the BBC, so we’ll resume things Monday,’ said Gwen. ‘I told him about Mr Danforth, by the way.’
‘Told him? Told him what exactly?’
‘That he was now our client.’
‘Nothing about the mission, though.’
‘Of course not. Why would you think that?’
‘Because he’s a signatory to the Official Secrets Act as well as being your boyfriend,’ said Iris. ‘I’m not sure it was wise bringing Tony to his attention.’
‘If he found out about him signing up with us later, he’d wonder why I hadn’t said anything,’ said Gwen. ‘I thought this would be a natural way of letting him know.’
‘How did he react?’
‘He was surprised to hear that Mr Danforth had returned to England,’ said Gwen. ‘He mentioned something about him leaving amid a scandal of some sort.’
Iris said nothing.
‘At Cambridge,’ continued Gwen, watching her.
‘Tony wasn’t— that was a long time ago,’ said Iris.
‘But he was involved?’
‘He was on the periphery, not in the centre,’ said Iris.
‘And you know this because?’
‘Because I was on the periphery with him,’ she said reluctantly.
‘You might have said something before,’ said Gwen.
‘It had nothing to do with the current situation.’
‘But a woman died as a result,’ said Gwen.
‘Sauce – Nancy, I should say – drowned. They never figured out the how or the why of it. But Tony wasn’t the cause.’
‘You sound quite certain about that.’
‘He wasn’t involved with her,’ said Iris. ‘I’m certain about that.’
‘So he wouldn’t present a threat to any woman we set him up with?’
‘No,’ said Iris.
But she knew from Gwen’s expression that she hadn’t convinced her.
She sat in the chair in front of Dr Milford’s desk in his Harley Street office.
‘You’ve stopped smoking,’ she observed.
‘Only in here,’ he replied. ‘I’ve had some complaints, and thought it would be fairer not to smoke in front of everyone rather than ask each individual for permission. Some of my patients might feel I’m putting undue pressure on them.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Iris. ‘I like watching you smoke your pipe. You turn it into a little ritual every time.’
‘I suppose I do,’ he said, picking it up from its stand and tamping tobacco into it. ‘It’s a useful prop for stalling for time while I think of the next question. Why do you like watching me do it?’
‘Is that the next question?’
‘It is.’