China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) Madalyn Morgan (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📖

hoped. Don’t get me wrong, I was positive about everything I reported, but he asked me over and over again about--’ Claire stopped speaking and looked around to make sure she couldn’t be overheard, ‘Panzer Divisions. He said it was of the utmost importance that he knew whether there had been an increase or a decrease in armoured vehicles, specifically in Panzer Divisions. I told him there had been a decrease, that the only armoured tanks, motorised infantry, rifle battalions or artillery regiments I’d seen in the last month were on main roads going north. He seemed relieved.’

‘He would be. The Germans are hitting the Soviets with everything they’ve got. The last intelligence received from the Eastern Front reported Panzer Divisions a hundred miles from Moscow. They’re gearing up in the north and south to take the capital. The only thing that will stop them now is the weather. It’s thirty degrees below zero over there, and it’ll get colder as winter sets in. The Soviet Army is used to severe weather conditions and will dress accordingly, but the Germans aren’t. If the Germans don’t take Moscow soon there’s a good chance their army will freeze to death.’

‘So the briefing was to make sure the intelligence was correct?’

‘And it appears it is.’ Mitch finished his coffee. ‘You did well,’ he said, putting his hand on hers. Claire was about to thank him when he looked at his wristwatch. ‘Hell, I have to go,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘The colonel doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ Claire’s heart sank. ‘See you soon, China.’ He leaned across the table and kissed her on the cheek.

The note Claire received took her by surprise. “Hi China. Are you free to meet for coffee tomorrow? I’ll be in Lyons Corner House, Piccadilly, at twelve. Hope you can make it. Mitch.”

Unable to sleep, Claire rose early, bathed, and took extra care styling her hair and applying her makeup. She slipped into a close-fitting navy blue two-piece with a white collar and put on the hat she’d dashed out and bought after receiving Mitch’s note.

A last quick look in the hall mirror showed that the jaunty angle at which she wore the hat looked quite chic. A girlish giggle escaped her lips. Unlocking the door, she grabbed her coat, gas mask and handbag, and left the flat. She crossed Oxford Street to a passageway with steps that eventually took her to Soho Square. She stopped for a second to enjoy the warm dappled sunshine. It had been a long winter and even though spring was round the corner, the sun wasn’t high enough in the sky to shine on the narrow streets leading from Soho to Piccadilly. She looked up. Smoke clung to the roofs of tall buildings and the stench of burnt wood and oil from incendiary bombs hung in the air.

Entering the Corner House in Piccadilly, Claire joined the queue of people at the shiny steel and glass counter. Nerves like jumping beans played havoc in her stomach. She hadn’t seen Mitch since the weekend they were debriefed. She had hoped he would telephone – and dreamed that he would come to Coltishall to see her. He hadn’t done either. But why would he? She let her mind wander to the night they lay next to each other in the hayloft in France. He had slept soundly while she, unable to sleep, laid and watched him. She felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach and inhaled slowly.

‘Can I help you, madam?’

‘Excuse me?’ Claire felt someone tap her on the shoulder. ‘It’s your turn.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Claire blushed. ‘I was thinking, deciding, what to have.’ She was thinking how wonderful it would be to be made love to by Alain Mitchell.

The girl behind the counter sighed. ‘Have you thought yet, madam?’

‘A pot of tea and…’

‘And?’ the girl snapped.

‘A pot of coffee, please.’ Claire watched as the girl poured boiling water into the tea and coffee pots. She put both on a tray with cups and saucers, milk jug and a dish with two sugar cubes and put it down in front of Claire with a clatter. ‘And two tea cakes please. Sorry,’ Claire said politely to the woman standing behind her, who rolled her eyes and pouted pinched pencil-thin lips. Blushing with embarrassment, Claire looked along the queue. It had grown. ‘Don’t worry about the teacakes, if--’

‘I’ve taken them from the cake stand now!’ Wishing she was invisible, Claire paid and found a table with a clear view of the door. Today it wasn’t because she needed to watch for Germans, or because she might have to leave in a hurry, it was because she wanted to see the man who had woken so many feelings in her; feelings she hadn’t been aware of until that night in the barn. She poured a cup of tea and cut one of the teacakes in half. She was too nervous to eat but, keeping her eyes on the door, she sipped her tea.

The door opened and her heart soared – then crashed. A small child ran in, followed by a large lady. Claire looked at the man behind them, expecting to see the child’s father. Instead she saw Mitch. She stood up and waved. He saw her and, smiling broadly, weaved his way through the tables until he was standing next to her. She expected – hoped – he would kiss her on each cheek. Instead he put his arms around her and kissed her full on the lips. ‘Boy, have I missed you, China!’ he said and, keeping his arms round her, hugged her to him.

Claire laughed. She didn’t have to remind him not to call her China in London. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she said.

Mitch let her go and held her at arm’s length. He looked into her eyes for what felt to