Leave

Leaving (somewhat guiltily) the detritus in the kitchen, Chief headed for the common room. It was cold and smelt of a mix of cigarette and wood smoke. It was not an appealing mix. He turned on his heel and headed for the front door.

Not sure of what to do next, he headed for the farm. Things were quiet when he arrived. None of the girls or the Italian POWs were in sight but Charlie, the Welsh cob, was standing quietly in the yard, his head collar tied loosely to a mangold splitter. Chief wandered over and held the chestnut horse's head briefly whilst he blew gently on its nostrils. Charlie blew back.

The two conchies returned from whatever they'd been doing.

"Hey, Chiefy," Freddie, the taller of the two men acknowledged, using Goniff's name for the Navajo. "Busy?"

Chief smiled and shook his head, putting a gentle hand on the cob's neck. He scratched behind the animal's ears and Charlie bumped him gently with his nose.

Freddie looked at the Navajo. "He seems to like you. Fancy giving us a hand? We're coppicing the thicket this week. An extra pair of hands wouldn't go amiss."

The voice ended on the up note of a question. Harry, the other conchie, untied Charlie's lead rope and started to walk away.

Chief let his hand drift back down the animal's back and over its tail, then followed along behind the two men and the horse.

Forestry wasn't something he'd ever done before, but it didn't take long for the Navajo to learn the routine. Pile after pile of hazel stems were stacked onto the cart, fencing, bindings for the hedgerows, kindling. Not a scrap would be wasted. By the time the team headed back to the farm, Chief had blistered hands, a sore back, was filthy... and more relaxed than he had been for a long time.

GGG

Having failed to find Millie, who was clearly avoiding him, the pickpocket had realised that the best thing he could do was stay out of the land girl's way until she was ready to talk to him. Purloining the Jeep, the cockney headed into town. There was a small antique shop there that doubled as a pawnbroker which he enjoyed visiting. The old man who owned the place had taken to the young cockney and liked having him around. The pickpocket for his part had managed, for once, to avoid temptation. The result was that he'd spent a pleasant day drinking tea, putting the world to rights and polishing silverware.

Dinner that night was around the farmhouse table, followed by a trip to the Doves.

Millie was conspicuous by her absence, but the two other land girls, Grace and Brenda had both been up for it, as had Harry and Freddie.

Goniff seemed on the surface to be enjoying himself, but Chief knew the pickpocket well by now and recognised the act for what it was... an act.

Celebrations broke up early, leaving the two special forces men to stroll home alone.

"You fink the Warden'll make it?" Goniff kicked at a tuft of grass, venting his frustration.

Truth be told, Chief had no idea, but he knew the question he was really being asked. 'Will we be OK?'

He didn't have an answer to either question.

GGG

Down in the New Forest, Casino unlocked the door to his hotel bedroom and ushered Kat inside. He couldn't have asked for a better day. Borrowing a motorbike from one of the British squaddies, he'd made good time on his trip south. The weather had been fine, if a little gusty, and he'd had no problem securing a double room for Mr and Mrs Coletti.

He had to admit, it had been a risk, since 'Mrs Coletti' had no idea he was on his way.

For Kat, the day had started ordinarily enough. She'd caught the bus from Lymington and got off at the end of the long tree-lined driveway that led to the requisitioned country house which proclaimed to be a college. In some ways that was true - it did house students, but this wasn't home to ordinary students - this was Spy School.

Even though the war in Italy had changed in nature over the last 12 months, there were still enough trainees needing some fluency in Italian to justify continuing Kat's courses - although she had to admit to herself that it might not continue for much longer. This week she only had four students, but they all needed one to one training, so it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

As usual she smiled when she came to the point on the rhododendron walk where she and Charlie had kissed that fateful afternoon. She was still surprised at herself for being so forward, but it had been worth it. Since then, they'd exchanged a couple of letters... after that, silence, which probably meant he was 'abroad'. She would just have to hope that if he didn't come back someone would find a way to tell her. Oddly, she didn't feel that she'd been dumped.

It was mid-morning, and her first student had just left, when the bursar stuck his head around the classroom door.

"Telephone, Kat. Some bloke that sounds like one of them Chicago gangsters."

She looked up from the papers she was studying, surprised and slightly worried. Charlie wouldn't call... would he?

"You can take it in my office if you like." The bursar was smiling to himself, although the humour didn't show on his face. He'd recognised the voice of the American and seen the interplay between the two young people. Twenty-five years ago, he'd missed his chance, hesitated to commit to the young nurse he'd met at Ypres. It was something he'd regretted all his life. If a small kindness could help another couple find their way, it was the least he could do.

"Charlie?" Kat's voice was hesitant as she picked up the heavy black handset and put it to her ear.

"Hey babe, how're yer doin'?" Casino sounded cheerful and confident.

"I'm fine. Where are you... or can't you say?"

Casino laughed. "About five miles up the road. Somewhere called the Roebuck. Wondered if I could take you to lunch."

Kat's pulse picked up a beat. She had a class that afternoon but knew her student would be only too happy if it was cancelled. "I'd like that," she finally replied.

"Pick you up in 10. Oh, and you'll need a headscarf." There was a click as the receiver went down.

Kat replaced hers rather more slowly. Headscarf? She shrugged her shoulders and headed off to find student, coat and borrow a scarf.

Casino was already waiting outside the front door by the time she arrived. He was standing astride a large motorcycle equipped with a small pillion seat and two canvas panniers. A large smile crossed his face as he saw the Italian teacher appear on the porch step. Her dark hair was covered by a flamboyant silk scarf and a navy woollen coat covered her warmly from neck to knee. He threw down the cigarette he was smoking and turned to rummage in one of the panniers, emerging a moment later with a pair of land girl's jodhpurs.

"Millie's borrowed these for you," he said handing them over. "Didn't want you getting cold."

Kat laughed as she accepted the clothing and shook it out. She'd been wondering how she'd manage on the back of the motorbike in a skirt. These solved the problem nicely.

A few minutes later and they were on their way, Kat perched on the uncomfortable rear seat, her arms wrapped tightly around Charlie's waist. They made their way south, heading for the coast.

The landlady at the Roebuck had been only too helpful telling her GI visitor of nice places to picnic with his wife. "Been stayin' with her ma while I've been away," he'd explained to her. "Didn't have time to write and say I'd been given a 48-hour pass."

The picnic spot was perfect, tucked out of the wind but exposed to the warmth of the early spring sun which had decided to make a brief appearance. Casino spread a piece of tarpaulin on the grass before handing Kat a greaseproof paper package of sandwiches. She peered inside and sniffed, before looking enquiringly at the safecracker.

"Roast pheasant," he supplied, taking a bite of his own sandwich. It had taken a hefty bribe to persuade the landlady to part with some of the bird, but it had been worth it. The second pannier yielded a stone jar with a rubber stopper and two cups. Casino filled a cup from the bottle and handed it over. "Ginger beer?"

Kat accepted happily. She was getting over her nervousness now and becoming more relaxed.

Casino could feel the change, and knew he'd got it right. Give her time to get used to him again.

"How long do you have?" Kat laid back, presenting her face to the weak sun, eyes closed.

"Two nights," the safecracker replied nonchalantly. It was now or never. "I booked a double room. Told the landlady Mrs Coletti would be joining me."

Kat's eyes flew open as she turned to look at him. "You what?"

Had he blown it? "Which bit don't you like? Being Mrs Coletti or spending two nights with me?" He threw away the grass stalk he was chewing and met her gaze.

The teacher opened her mouth to snap. Both, she'd been about to say, but what actually came out was "neither".

Casino smiled happily then finally rolled over so he could kiss her. "We'd better pick up your kit on the way back then."

GGG

Forty hours later and Casino was heading homeward. He'd dropped Kat at the country house before settling his bill and repacking the bike. Everything had gone to plan from his point of view and, he felt, from Kat's perspective too.

They hadn't gone out very much, which had suited them both just fine. They'd strolled hand in hand through the woods and talked.

It had taken a while, but Casino eventually opened up over why he'd not been in touch. The Caen mission had been typical enough, but he hadn't expected to be kidnapped on his return to the UK.

Kat had been horrified. "How long were you held?"

The safecracker lit a cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke.

A grey squirrel stopped briefly to watch him then scurried off about its business.

"About ten days. It could have been worse. They kept us fed and I had Chief to fight with." He laughed. When bored he would always provoke the Indian, and Chief would usually respond physically. The wrestling match that would follow was rarely serious with the furniture normally the only casualty.

"D'you think Lieutenant Garrison will recover?"

"Yeah, given time." The safecracker was pretty sure it wouldn't take the Warden long. He was a tough cookie. He just hoped Major Johns wouldn't take advantage of the Lieutenant's absence to shut the group down and ship them back stateside.

Kat had gone back to work in a better frame of mind than when she'd left, if a little more scared. She looked at the ring on her left hand, then pulled it off and put it in her purse. It was her grandmother's wedding band, rose gold with three small garnets embedded in the metal. She'd smiled when she saw the landlady surreptitiously checking for a ring. Casino had taken her hand once they were safely in their room and inspected the jewellery.

"Nice touch." He'd not thought about providing a ring himself but wasn't surprised that it had crossed Kat's mind. "Your grandmother's?"

"Dad's mother. She died when I was still really young, but apparently told Papa I was to have the ring and her rosary. Mama wasn't happy, said I was too little to have them, but for once he stood firm."

Kat came back to the present and gave herself a mental shake. She had classes to prepare for and wishing wouldn't bring Charlie back to Hampshire.

GGG

Actor's flat looked no different from when he had left it a few days ago. The curtains were closed, and the paintwork needed attention, but then so did every other apartment in the block. He slipped his key in the lock and pushed open the front door. The air that greeted him was musty and slightly unpleasant smelling. Clearly emptying the garbage had not been high on Siobhan's list of priorities the night he'd called her for help. He stepped inside, threw his overcoat onto a chair in the hall and set to work.

In truth, he could have asked his neighbour, who often cared for the place when he was away, to deal with things, but on this occasion, he found it cathartic to do it himself.

The stale food was consigned to the communal dustbins, the bedding taken to a nearby Chinese laundry, who promised to have everything dried, ironed and returned before he needed to leave. There had been a moment of regret as he collected Siobhan's discarded dressing gown from the chair where she'd dropped it and hung it carefully in the closet. The fluffy slippers he placed side-by-side underneath, then closed the door on that particular chapter of his life.

He glanced at his watch. It was after two. Probably too late to get anything to eat and too early to head for the station. Perhaps a walk. The fresh air might clear his head. He picked up his overcoat, and as he did so, saw a white envelope lying on the mat.

He was certain it hadn't been there when he'd come back from the laundry. Half in hope, he opened the front door - but the street outside was deserted. Whoever had delivered the note was long gone.

Discarding his coat, he headed for the living room, sat down, and carefully opened the envelope. He'd known from the handwriting who it was from.

'By the time you read this, I'll be on my way to Lisbon. Who knows what little capers TAR has planned for me this time?
Such a shame that the fates have always lined up to conspire against us. We could have been glorious.
Siobhan.'

Actor smiled grimly. Somehow, the Irish woman had affected him in a way others had not. Carefully he folded the note, slipped it back into the envelope and placed it on the bookshelf, tucked inside the front cover of Don Quixote.

A knock on the door broke into his reverie. The laundry had surpassed themselves. Gratefully, the Italian accepted the package, then consigned the contents to one of the drawers in the bedroom. He felt it would be some time before he needed them again.

He had barely closed the drawer when he was back at the door again. This time, it was in response to a heavy, repetitive rapping. On the other side, a man in an oilskin coat and wellington boots. A motorcycle sat at the curb, parked slightly sideways.

"Mr Borelli? Package for you." The man reached into the satchel he had slung across his body and pulled out a manilla folder, tied with a red ribbon, secured with sealing wax. He thrust it into Actor's hands, saluted perfunctorily then about turned and scampered down the steps to his vehicle. The conman watched as the messenger kick-started his steed and disappeared into the distance, surrounded by a cloud of blue smoke.

Finally, Actor looked down at the document in his hands. There was no indication of who had sent it, nor of what it contained. Thoughtfully, he retreated to his front room and picked up the letter opener. Prizing off the seals took him a matter of moments. Inside the external folder was a second one, this time displaying a name. Within the folder, a few type-written sheets and a photograph... a dossier, similar to those the Warden had been given all those months ago.

Comparing the man's date of birth and the picture, Actor concluded that it had been taken some time ago. It showed a young, dark-haired man in naval uniform.

The conman read through the information once, twice, then a third time. There was a lot that didn't make sense. Thoughtfully, he placed the folder on the table and went into the hallway to make a phone call.