were glassy, his words somewhat slurred.
'For God's sake,' mumbled Tanner.
'What?' said Chevannes. 'What was that you said, Sergeant? Parlez haut.'
'Nothing, sir. I'll just get something for me and Hepworth to eat. I hear there's some stew about.'
'Out, oui. Heat up another tin. And have some wine.' While Tanner found two tins of stew and vegetables, Chevannes poured out a chipped tumbler of wine, spilling some. 'A toast, Sergeant,' he said, pushing the tumbler in Tanner's direction. 'A toast to surviving so far.'
Give me strength, thought Tanner. He scowled at the Frenchman, said, 'No bloody thanks to you,' then picked up the tumbler and drank, slamming the glass down only when he had finished it all.
'What did you say, Sergeant?' slurred Chevannes.
'You heard,' Tanner retorted. He went back to heating his tins of stew over the fire.
'How dare you?'
'How dare I what?' said Tanner, turning on him. 'If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be sitting in this
God-forsaken hole. Now, get drunk if you want to but in a few hours' time we'll be off again and I'm not bloody well waiting for you.' Tanner grabbed the tins and stormed out of the room.
'Sergeant!' Chevannes called after him. 'Come back here!'
Tanner ignored him. He found Hepworth almost asleep on the stairs, then entered another room on the ground floor in which McAllister and Kershaw were already asleep. He lit a match and saw a half-burnt candle on a desk, which stood before a fireplace. Lighting it, he looked around, eating his stew as he did so. It was not warmed through, but he didn't care. It was food, and he'd eaten a lot worse. An empty whisky bottle stood on the table, while in the grate he found the remains of a number of papers. Tanner picked up the top of a sheet entitled, 'War Diary or Intelligence Summary', beside which had been scrawled in pencil, '148 Inf Bde.' What remained of the writing underneath had been scribbled out. So, this had been Brigadier Morgan's headquarters, he thought. Missed by hours.
Tanner lay down on the floor by the fireplace and, using his captured jacket as a pillow, closed his eyes and slept.
He was being shaken roughly. 'Sarge! Sarge!'
'What?' he said. He had been sleeping deeply and his eyes, reluctantly opening, strained in the dark to see who was standing over him.
'Sarge, it's me, Bell. You need to come. The corp sent me.'
Rubbing his eyes, Tanner got wearily to his feet, grabbed his rifle and stumbled outside. Sykes was by the gate. 'What is it?' Tanner asked.
'Someone came out the house, Sarge,' Sykes whispered. 'I couldn't see who it was, but they went into the barn. Whoever it is, they're still there.'
'All right,' he said. 'Let's go over and have a look.'
They crept towards the barn. The door on the ground was ajar and they paused beside it. Tanner's heart was hammering again; he hated creeping round buildings at any time of day but especially in the dark. 'Cover me,' he whispered, then pushed open the door and went in.
A sudden scratching made his heart leap and he flinched, then realized it was only rats or mice. He listened intently but could hear nothing. Sykes and Bell were now behind him. He felt in his trouser pocket for his matches, took out the box and lit one.
The flame gave only a little light, but it was enough to show a row of animal stalls in front of them. Nearly burning his fingers, he pinched out the match, lit another and walked slowly along the stalls.
The match died and he lit a third. As the flare subsided, he reached the last stall and there, asleep on a pile of hay, was the mystery person.
'Miss!' said Tanner.
She woke with a start. 'Sergeant,' she said, blinking, 'what's the matter?' She sat up, propping herself on her elbows.
'We heard someone leave the house,' said Tanner. Suddenly he felt rather foolish. 'We weren't sure who it was . . .' Sykes lit another match. There was nothing beside her: no rucksack, and certainly no radio.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It was the lieutenant. He was drunk.'
'What did the bastard do?'
'Nothing, really.' She made to stand up and Tanner stepped forward to offer her a hand. 'He - well, he was drunk and making a nuisance of himself.' She smiled uncertainly at Tanner, then took his hand. Her fingers were cold, but gripped his tightly. 'I didn't want to make a scene.' The match went out again, but her hand stayed in his.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to alarm you. I just thought it would be quiet out here. Although, actually, I should have known there would be rats.'
With his heart still hammering, but now for a different reason, he said, 'It would be safer if you came back inside, you know. If anything should happen ...'
'Don't worry, Miss,' said Sykes. 'I'm sure the lieutenant will be sound asleep by now.'
'Yes, of course,' she said. 'I understand.'
Back outside the barn, Tanner turned his watch to the light of the moon. 'Just gone one,' he said. 'Stan, you and Tinker are on until half past, then get Mac and Kershaw out for an hour and they can get me again. I'll get Chevannes' man, Derigaux, to join me. We want to be away by half three. All right?'
'Got it, Sarge.'
'Night, Sarge,' added Bell. 'And night, Miss.'
Tanner led Anna back into a silent and sleeping house. 'In here,' he whispered, showing her to the office. McAllister and Kershaw were still asleep on the floor, their slow, rhythmic breathing clearly audible in the close atmosphere of the room. In the dark, he bumped into her, apologized, then whispered, 'Over here.' Having found his pack and wind jacket, he crouched and heard her settle next to him. 'Would you like my jacket?' he asked.
'No, no - I'm fine. Thank you. I've got my own.'
'Try to get back to sleep, then,' he said. He closed his eyes, then felt her hand stretch out and take his, squeezing it. Was she genuine, or playing a part? To hell with it, he thought. In less than two hours he had to be awake again. For now, the soft warmth of her touch was a much- needed comfort.
He had been in a deep sleep when McAllister woke him but this time was alert in an instant. Deciding to let Derigaux be, he went out to watch the road alone. Not for the first time since arriving in Norway ten days before, he watched the dawn rise, creeping over the mountains to the east and sweeping over the narrow valley, bathing it in a rich golden light.
Soon after three, he hurried back into the house, woke Sykes and ordered him out to watch the road, then
