The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (speed reading book txt) 📕

of Mr. MacFarlane and he drags me in just as I’m going off a shift I started at five in the morning and he tells me to pick up someone important, I know I can’t complain about the job, because it’s obvious to me that they’re not being brought in so MacFarlane can tell them they’ve got the all-clear, if you know what I mean.”

Maisie sighed. “Thank you for your candor, Corporal Bright.”

“You knew it was serious anyway, didn’t you, Miss Dobbs?”

“Yes. I knew.”

“And I know what goes on in that office. I’m not silly, and it doesn’t take the brains of an archbishop, does it? I have todrive the men and women who are going over to France to their departure point. I take them to whichever house they’re stayingat while they wait for the weather or the moon or whatever it is, and then later if I’m the driver on duty, I take them tothe airfield.” She paused. “It’s a wonder old Mac hasn’t sent me over there—he will if they lose any more, I bet.”

“You have to be fluent in French, Corporal Bright.”

“I am. Mum was French—she died when I was sixteen. Stomach cancer—so no, she never got the all-clear when she was called backto the hospital. Dad met her in the last war, fell in love, and then after the Armistice he brought her over here. By whichtime, I might add, yours truly was a bun in the oven!”

Maisie laughed. “You’re right—with that information, I’m surprised MacFarlane hasn’t recruited you.”

“He told me he would never forgive himself if anything happened to me and he had to break the news to my dad, and then hesaid”—she began to mimic MacFarlane’s accent—“More to the point, Charlie Bright, you’re a bit too quick with your wit. It’swits about you we need, not the kind of wit that’s your stock-in-trade. You’d be a liability, lass. A liability if I sent you over there.’”Bright reverted to her own accent. “To be honest, I think he’s right. And I wouldn’t want to go anyway—I see quite enoughfrom here, thank you very much!”

“Well, you’ve got MacFarlane down pat, Corporal.”

Bright laughed. “Dad says I’m a parrot. Got me into a lot of plays at school—and a lot of trouble too!” She slowed the car and pulled into the curb. “Here we are, Miss Dobbs. Just a sec—I’ll come round.”

Corporal Bright opened the passenger door, allowing Maisie to step out of the motor car. “I daresay Mr. Mac will be comingout of that door any time now . . . and there he is, waiting for you.”

“I don’t like that look,” whispered Maisie to herself, seeing MacFarlane outside the door, then louder, “Thank you, CorporalBright. Excellent driving, as usual.”

Bright saluted and closed the door at the same time as MacFarlane approached.

“Well done, Bright. You’re off duty now. I’ll get another driver to take Miss Dobbs home.” He reached for Maisie’s arm. “Comeon, Maisie. Haven’t got all night.”

“What’s going on?”

“In a minute.”

 

MacFarlane escorted Maisie past the porter’s desk toward a staircase she knew would take them into the bowels of the building.Opening a door into a small office, he held out his hand for Maisie to enter first, then followed, locking the door behindhim. It was warm in the windowless room; she began to feel a hint of claustrophobia.

“Sit down, lass,” said MacFarlane.

Maisie took a seat. MacFarlane eased into the chair on the opposite side of a desk with only one file on top—no other documentsor papers were visible. It looked like a room that was only used in certain circumstances. She knew rooms like this. Anyonewho had ever worked in a hospital knew this room. It was the room where death was announced.

“Is it Pascale?”

He shook his head while opening the folder. “Elinor Jones was captured by the Gestapo and is now believed to have been torturedbefore her death, which took place in France. As far as we know, she was not transferred to Ravensbrück—the concentrationcamp where the Nazis send women like Miss Jones. We know at least one other agent who was taken there, but in this case notMiss Jones. We hope to receive intelligence confirmation that, while she may have experienced some terror that I don’t evenwant to think about, she had an opportunity to ingest her L-pill. At least we bloody well hope she did.”

Maisie drew breath to speak.

“Let me finish first, Maisie,” said MacFarlane, without looking up. She suspected he was not reading a report, nor was hereferring to it, but kept his head down because he could not meet her eyes. He continued, “Um . . . right, where was I? Yes—fortunately,her partner, the lass who receives transmissions from Jones, recognized the fist change immediately a new message came in,so we knew she must have been captured. We believe it was a German radio operator who was using her equipment and trying toget his hands on information that would put a raft of agents in danger. You see, Miss Jones had the bright idea of teachinga few words of Welsh to her partner while they were training, so they used them at the beginning and end of each transmission.The Germans might know some of our colorful street vocabulary to fool us, but they don’t know Welsh!” He pinched the bridgeof his nose. “We’ve given her partner compassionate leave for a few days; she’s in one of our safe houses.”

Maisie could wait no longer, feeling as if she might scream at any moment. Only it would not be a scream, it would be an explosion from her heart and it would bring down the roof, pulverizing the walls and shattering glass windows on the way. “I shouldn’t have let her go. I should have put my foot down.”

“It wasn’t up to you, Maisie. You interview these people for us, you give your qualified opinion of their state of mind beforethey leave, but do not for a moment think that you are the last word—because you’re not. You are just a cog in a wheel. We’reall just cogs