Page 64 of V2

They went in through the gate. One of the privates took up position in the garden, with his rifle trained on the house. The other slipped quietly down the side path to the back door. The corporal stood on the front step with Kay. He gestured to her to ring the bell.

For half a minute, nothing happened. Then came the sound of the key turning, the bolts being drawn back. The door opened, and there was Dr Vermeulen in his dark green cardigan.

Kay said, ‘I’m sorry, Dr Vermeulen. We need to search the house.’

His body sagged slightly. He rested his head against the door jamb, seemed on the point of saying something, and then gave up. ‘Guillaume’s in the kitchen. Follow me.’

Until that moment, Kay had half expected the whole thing to turn out to be a figment of her imagination, an embarrassing misunderstanding requiring an apology to all concerned. But there in the kitchen, seated at the table, was Arnaud and his mother and a young man, little older than a boy, with a dead-white pallor and long unkempt hair. He was wearing a scruffy blue pullover. His left hand was bandaged. They looked up, made no effort to move, as if this was a moment they had long expected.

The corporal said to Kay, ‘Which one is it?’

‘The one in blue.’

‘Him?’ the corporal said, as if he couldn’t believe it. He pointed his rifle and gestured with the barrel. Guillaume swayed to his feet and raised his hands. ‘Out.’ He nodded to the door.

After they had gone, Kay stood awkwardly in the kitchen, alone with the family. She looked at Arnaud. She spread her hands. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He stared back at her – a terrible expression, full of accusation and betrayal: she would never forget it – and then the back door opened and the soldier came in. He trained his rifle on the Vermeulens. He said to Kay, ‘Tell them to get their coats and come with us.’

Dr Vermeulen said wearily, ‘It’s all right. We understand.’

‘And then she said, “Don’t worry – I’m not a virgin!” ’ The captain laughed at his own joke. His companion drummed his glass on the bar.

‘Section Officer Caton-Walsh?’

She looked up. A young lieutenant was standing in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

‘Come with me, please.’

She collected her coat and suitcase and followed him up the main staircase to the second floor. Behind a closed door, a telephone was ringing. A corporal crossed the corridor carrying a stack of files. The lieutenant knocked on a door at the end of the passage and opened it. He stood aside to let her enter.

The square-faced major was seated behind a desk with a file open in front of him. Wing Commander Knowsley was in a chair to one side. Kay saluted. The major said, ‘Take a seat, Section Officer.’ She did as she was told. She felt numb. He placed a pair of meaty fists on the table, one on either side of the file. She noticed the black hairs on the back of his hands and fingers; they were like paws, she thought. ‘Well, that was quite a show you were involved in.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Anything you want to say about it?’

‘Only that I’m sorry, sir.’

The two men exchanged glances.

Knowsley said, ‘Sorry for what, exactly?’

‘I should never have left evidence of our work in my room – that was an unforgivable lapse.’ She hesitated. ‘And I should never have allowed myself to have any kind of relationship with someone from the local population.’

Knowsley said, ‘This was the other son, I take it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You disclosed details of our mission?’

‘No, sir. Absolutely not.’

‘But he tried to find out what you were doing?’

‘He asked a few questions. I didn’t tell him anything. But I drew attention to myself.’ She was squirming at the memory of her foolishness. ‘In my defence, I wasn’t to know the family were German sympathisers.’

The major said, ‘In your defence, I don’t think they are German sympathisers – the younger son was, obviously, but the other three were just trying to protect him, as far as we can tell.’ He looked down at the file. ‘He volunteered to join the Germans in 1941, soon after they invaded the Soviet Union. Thousands of young men in occupied Europe did the same. They fell for the line that they were joining a crusade for Christian civilisation. He was seventeen. His unit was cut up pretty badly this year on the Eastern Front and they were shipped out of the front line. He seems to have deserted and come running home to mummy and daddy just before we arrived in Belgium.’