Soldier No More

He worked for the Ministry of Information. He had rheumatic fever when he was a kid. I told you—I've checked out the field. He was never even called up for military service.' Bradford shook his head again. 'Also, he doesn't commute to Zurich regularly.'

'Zurich?' Lexy looked from Audley to Bradford.

' He does. And that's where the elusive Miss Palfrey lives.'

Bradford pointed at Audley.

Audley tossed his head. 'This is ridiculous. I've been to Zurich once or twice in the last three months, I have an account there. It isn't a crime yet, for God's sake!'

Stein chuckled. 'No flies on our David!'

' Flies is right—' Bradford sat up '—flies is exactly right. Eh, David?'

Audley grimaced at him. 'What d'you mean? F-f-flies?'

That's what I mean: 'f-f-flies'.' Bradford pounced on him. '

'F-f-flies'. Big ones, little ones—fat ones, black ones, green shiny ones—squashy ones— flies, David—'

dummy5

'Don't be disgusting, Bradford!' Audley hunched his shoulders.

Lexy tossed the hair from her face. 'Now you're being beastly, Mike—'

Not at all, honey—'

'You are so! We all know David hates flies, he's told us so.

But so do I and so do you—' she gave Audley a quick, sympathetic glance, and then carried on to the Israeli '—and when we talked about them . . . Davey there said there were more flies in that desert of his—'

'Sinai.' Stein nodded. 'Sinai is the fly capital of the world.'

For Christ's sake!' said Audley.

Bradford nodded at Roche. 'There you are, Captain. We don't like 'f-f-flies'—but he's obsessive about them!'

Roche observed Audley's face contort, though whether with disgust or anger the shadows didn't tell.

'So . . . just get the book, and I'll prove my point,' went on Bradford. 'Lexy—?'

'What point?' asked Jilly. 'What book?'

Lexy blinked. 'Book—?'

Bradford gestured dismissively. 'It doesn't matter—you can take my word for it, I can give you chapter and page—

chapters and pages, rather— it's all there to be seen . . . and heard—they buzz around from battlefield to battlefield to annoy Simplicius, and from corpse to corpse on the dummy5

battlefield. On one page she has a whole paragraph about the Devil being 'lord of the flies', and how each fly is a black soul from Hell sent to plague the faithful—'

'Flies!' Lexy buried a hand into her tangled hair. 'Of course—

yes, you're absolutely right, Mike—and the flies in the food at the wedding banquet, when she's forced to marry Atwulf—

Galla Placidia—'

Ataulf—' Audley corrected her automatically.

'So you have read the book, David!'

'I have not read the book.' Audley closed his eyes. 'I do not want to read the book—I will not read the book. I know perfectly well what happened during the period without having to read any semi-pornographic historical novel.'

'I'll bet you do,' said Bradford. 'Flies included.'

Audley opened his eyes. 'I ... happen to have particularly unpleasant memories about. . . flies.' He pronounced the word carefully. 'Wartime memories, not historical ones. I'd prefer not to remember them, if it's all the same to you, Bradford.'

'You remembered them for Antonia Palfrey.'

Shut up, Mike,' said Jilly.

'The hell I will!' Bradford's voice was obstinate. 'If you think I—'

However . . .' Audley's own voice was obstinate too, and louder '. . . however ... I will tell you one thing you want to know, if it'll make you feel better.'

dummy5

'Oh, goody-goody!' exclaimed Lexy. 'He's going to tell us something that'll make us feel better!'

Audley's mouth twisted. 'It won't make you feel better. It's all about barbarians —'

'Oh— merde!' Lexy's shoulders slumped.

'But it does answer your question, nevertheless—'