'But we're not happy and we're not innocent,' she said. 'We might as well agree to start from there.'
'But that's just giving up. There must be something one can do.'
'What do you suggest?'
'If people could see what their real enemy was,' he said, frowning, 'they might start behaving differently. They might be nicer to one another. A lot nicer. There wouldn't be any religion to give them excuses for oppression and intolerance and pride and not helping.'
'Is that what you really want?' asked Catharine after another pause. 'Sort of brotherly love all round? It doesn't sound your style.'
He turned to her, saw her hazel eyes with the dark flecks in them gazing back at him, her mouth as straight as ever, and spoke with much hatred.
'No, it isn't. When I look at you and think of what may be going to happen to you, I want to do something that'll show-'
A diffused yellowish glare showed through the thin curtains like an instant of daylight. Almost immediately afterwards the windows rattled sharply and some object in another room fell to the floor. Then, several seconds later, they heard a thick, tearing, thundering noise, not long in itself but followed by dozens of echoes.
Catharine had her hand in Churchill's. ‘What was that?' she asked.
'I don't know. Yes I do. You've heard it before too. This afternoon when we were having a cup of tea in the kitchen. It was one of those weapons they were firing on the exercise.'
'Has the war started?'
'No. Let's think. It can't be a night scheme or I'd have heard about it. And even if it'd been a snap do Max would have had time to let me know. I suppose the technical chaps might have fixed up a night firing test. I can't think what they'd hope to establish, though.'
He got out of bed and went to the window.
'Nothing to see. But there are probably too many hills in the way. I didn't think it sounded the same as this afternoon. Nearer this time. But these things can be deceptive at night.'
'Come back to bed, darling. You can find out about it tomorrow.'
'It's very strange.'
'If there's no danger or anything, can't we forget about it for now?'
'I'm sorry. Of course.'
He got in beside her again. She put her arms round him and drew him down onto the pillows.
'I want to ask you something. This thing you're going off on next week. I still don't know what it is and I know you wouldn't tell me anyway and that's all all right. But how dangerous is it? You can tell me that without giving anything away.'
'It isn't dangerous at all,' he lied.
'Are you sure?'
'Yes. It's just a trip. There and back. But it's one of those things that would be absolutely no good if the opposition got to hear about it.'
He and the other S1 officers had been told that they had something like a seventy-five per cent chance of surviving Operation Apollo. A Pakistani colleague with whom he had been chatting recently had suggested that this was a deliberate deception, and that the planners of the Operation would not dare allow any of those who had taken part to survive it. Churchill was half convinced of this. It seemed appropriate to the nature of their task. He told himself now, as often before, that he must go through with the Operation, that he ought to want to unreservedly, because the people it was designed to stop just had to be stopped.
'You won't leave me, will you?' asked Catharine.
'How could I ever do that?'
'I don't know. It's just a nasty fancy I've just had. You sounded so much off on your own just now.'
'About that explosion? I was only-'
'No, I meant before that, when you were talking about people being happy and innocent. It was like you talking to yourself. As if you might forget about me one of these days. You won't, though. Will you? If I've got to lose you I'd rather do it by dying than any other way.'
Churchill held her very tight and pushed his face against hers.
'I won't do anything like that, honestly.'
'Promise? Promise faithfully you won't leave me?'
'I promise.'
Brian Leonard parked his car in its space below the Mess and sat for some moments accumulating the will to get out. It was just on eleven o'clock in the morning and he had spent the preceding six and a half hours either on his feet or behind the wheel. He had had no breakfast and was unshaven. As on the afternoon before, a bloody knee showed through a rent in his trousers, but this was the other knee and a fresh pair of trousers. Now that he was stationary the heat of the day began to close round him and so drive him into the open, much as he
