The Consequences of Fear Jacqueline Winspear (i can read book club .txt) 📖

else will be there?” Maisie lifted her spoon andimmersed it into a bowl of mulligatawny soup as she waited for MacFarlane’s answer.

“Twelve British recruits, and we’ve a couple of Frenchies, an Algerian—or is he a Moroccan? Something like that. And a FrenchCanadian.”

“Won’t there be a problem with the accent? I mean, the Canadian will probably sound as if he has a French version of a NorthAmerican twang, compared to the locals. And the recruits from French North Africa have an accent—though I expect that’s wherethey’re going once trained.” Maisie stirred the spoon around the edge of the steaming soup before lifting a spoonful to herlips.

MacFarlane ripped a piece of bread from the roll on his side plate, and shook his head. He answered while continuing to chew. “We’ve been through that—they’ve all passed muster as far as language is concerned, and as you know, our little bundle of tests in Scotland is to separate the wheat from the chaff. To see who’s up to snuff and worth us putting in the time and effort training them to be heroes. And we’ve some others along for the ride too—including one from somewhere in French Indochina, plus a Belgian or two. By the way—”

“Yes, by the way,” said Maisie, setting down her spoon. “I thought it was interesting that a certain Corporal Bright was sentto drive me to the station.”

“She’s a good lass, young Bright. Got some spirit about her.”

“I know that.”

“And don’t read anything into the fact that you already know her. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of women who are workingfor their country, I thought you would like to know that both Evernden and Jones are under orders to proceed to Hampshire,and they’ll be across the Channel within a day or two. They’re lucky—they’re going out on Lysanders, so they won’t be up therein a Halifax bomber with a parachute each.” MacFarlane shuddered. “Brrrr—gives me the shivers. I could hop off an aircraftthat’s just landed and still moving a wee bit, but leaping out while it’s a few hundred feet up in the air—I tell you, I takemy hat off to every one of them.”

Maisie felt a chill settle across her arms and around her shoulders. “I always said I would never ask anyone to do somethingI wouldn’t be ready to do myself, but . . .” She shook her head. “But now more than ever, I feel as if I’ve pushed them intoan abyss of terrible danger, and it’s not only because I know them. I feel for their parents, their families, if . . . ifthe worst happens, they will never be allowed to know the truth.” She bit her lip. “Perhaps it’s being a mother . . .” Shefelt her words falter as she imagined Anna grown, and perhaps not knowing where she might be.

“Whether man or woman, they all know what they’re doing, Maisie—if they go down, they know how it will be reported to the family.”

“And that’s the terrifying thing—Pascale and Elinor, for example, should be having the best days of their lives, but insteadthey’re putting them on the line for us, and the moment they’re in situ, if they’re captured or killed, we’re to deny allknowledge of them. They’re on their own over there, and there’s little we can do if they get into trouble.” She paused, tookanother spoonful of soup, and pushed the bowl away.

“You’d better finish that, lassie—none of us is so full inside that we can turn away good food. There’s people who’d be gratefulfor your leftovers.”

“Sorry—you’re right.” She pulled back her bowl and took another spoonful of the cooling soup. “The fact that our hands aretied if their cover is blown, and they fall into the hands of the Gestapo—it’s something I think about every time I have toassess whether a recruit is finally ready to be sent over there. And as I told you right at the beginning, when you came tome about this job, if I have reason not to pass someone for work in France or wherever they might be in line for, then youmust give me your word that they will not be sent over.” She paused to finish the soup. “But it’s not just that. I don’t likebeing so far away from Anna. I’ll do the job I’m here to do—I’ll watch the new recruits as you and the other instructors tryto kill them to see what they’re made of, and I’ll interview them and write my reports, but please, I just can’t be so faraway from my daughter again.”

“You’ve forgotten that at least two of the women we approved for departure last week have families, Maisie. They’re doingwhat they’re doing so their little ones don’t grow up in a world led by an ugly fascist mob.”

Maisie leaned back into her seat. “I know.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for your child? Isn’t that why you answered the call to duty, even though you hate every minute of it, as we all do?”

“I want Anna to live in a good world, Robbie. A better world.”

“Aye, and with that I rest my case—oh at last, here come the lads with our pie. I thought the kitchen carriage had workedits way loose from the rest of the train and gone off down another line!”

Maisie thanked the steward who removed the soup bowls, while another served them plates of meat pie and mashed potato coveredin gravy, and poured a healthy measure of red wine almost to the top of each glass.

MacFarlane touched her glass with his own before she had even reached for it. “That’s what I like to see—a decent pour tothe top of the glass. It won’t be in there long enough to breathe.”

“Robbie—what about Corporal Bright? Why did you send her to collect me? You knew very well our paths have crossed before—you’vesaid as much, and I know for a fact that nothing much goes by you. I’m sorry to go on about it, but it seemed more than justa coincidence. I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”

“Look, Maisie—I know her father,