Page 46 of Beloved Beast

Her heart sunk like a stone. “No. No,” she cried, her insides tumbling. Gillian held a hand at her stomach to calm the roiling. The last thing she wanted to do was bring up the food she ate. “Fred said it would be two weeks, three at most. It’s barely been a little more than ten days!”

“Listen to this. Fred writes: I found my secretary has been carrying on a clandestine affair with someone who has since disappeared. My investigation showed this man carried on numerous affairs with women attached to embassies and ranking officials. She confessed she mentioned Luke by name and gave his physical description. There was no mention of the asset. We cannot take the risk. I have taken the initiative and contacted a local fisherman in Brighton I’ve used in the past, and he is ready anytime we need him. My superiors feel we should move GB as soon as we can arrange it. They would consider another agent taking your place if you feel it is safe enough for GB to stay there for a few extra days. You, alas, must return to London. You have been compromised.”

Shaking his head, he looked up at her. “It was only a matter of time before my unique physical appearance caused a hindrance in this line of work. It will be back to the shadows for me, or perhaps they will cast me adrift since I am now a liability.”

“This is not fair. How do we even know if this man the secretary had an affair with is even a spy?” she cried.

Luke rattled the papers. “Fred goes into more detail. It sounds suspicious enough to me as well. We cannot take chances with your safety. Your life. I will not risk it.”

“Oh, God, what of Joan?” Damn, her stomach tumbled once again.

“She’s fine. Fred spoke to her yesterday and this morning. Nothing suspicious to report. He sent her a sketch of this man. Sent us one as well.” Luke handed it to her.

“Handsome. Cruel slant to his mouth. The artist did a fine rendering. Mrs. Travers must have given him a thorough description.”

“Well, she did carry on the affair for close to two months. Anyway, Fred can send someone to replace me right away. The agent can be here after the sun sets. It will buy you a more planned-out departure. Or, we can make arrangements and be gone by tomorrow night if not sooner.”

Sighing, she picked nervously at the sleeve of her sweater. Damn. “Apparently there will be no discussion on the two of us relocating elsewhere in England?”

“No.”

Well, that was emphatic. “Then you will have to come with me to Nova Scotia.”

A forlorn, pitiable expression showed on his face. “I cannot travel with you anywhere. There is a strong chance the Nazis now have my physical description. My MI-6 days are no doubt over.”

Gillian grasped his arm. “You can meet me later.”

Luke tunneled his right hand through his hair. “We must say good-bye. There can be no contact between us while the war rages on.”

“Damn you and your blasted nephew.” She jumped from her chair and angrily marched to the sink, wrenching on the tap and splashing cold water on her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the tea towel and dried her face then turned to Luke, whose expression now was disturbingly free of all emotion. Already she could feel him pulling away from her. Fine. She would not beg or throw a tantrum, though she was tempted to do both. In a calmer voice, she said, “We’d best make plans for my immediate departure from the country, hadn’t we?”

* * * *

By early evening, Rainer took up his position at The Rectory. The small public house served the people living in Purley and the Riddlesdown greenery area. Last night he played a game of darts with several men, taking note of their alcohol content, and made note of who was the most chatty. He narrowed his selection down to two middle-aged, portly men who worked at the nearby metal-working factory by the Croyden Airport. Ernie and Nigel may be what he was looking for.

Rainer sat at a table near the bar nursing a pint of bitter and slowly eating a gammon steak with peas and chips. He watched the door for the bombastic pair and not long after seven, they stumbled in laughing loudly, already at the beer. As he meticulously ate his meal, he kept his ears open for any mention of the Parkers. Not likely, but tonight he would broach the subject himself. Popping the last piece of pork in his mouth, he chewed while he watched Ernie order another pint. Rainer stood, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and tossed it to his empty plate. “That’s on me, and I will have one as well.”

“Cheers, mate. You were in here last night. New around here?” Ernie asked.

Rainer leaned against the bar, taking a handful of stale nuts from the wooden dish. He tossed a couple in his mouth. “No more than two nights, passing through, actually. My name is William Telling.”

The barman placed the mugs of bitter before them. Rainer slid the money across the bar. “Have one for yourself,” he said to the man, who nodded his thanks.

Rainer turned his attention to the two men and gave them a charming smile.

“Home on leave, are you, Mr. Telling?” Nigel asked as he wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Call me Will. Oh, I am not in the armed services.” He tapped his chest. “A heart murmur.”

“Give over mate. You look as fit as a fiddle,” Ernie scoffed.

“I am. The murmur is barely there. Alas, it was enough to keep me from serving king and country.” Rainer gave them a convincing forlorn look as he sipped his beer. Gott im himmel, this English swill tastes horrible.

“Bloody shame that.”

Enough small talk. “I attended university with Frederick Parker. I hear his parents live in this area now.”

“Oh, aye. I know them,” Ernie stated. “Old bloke, some professor type.”