The Very Thought of You (38 page)

‘Thank you,' said Catherine, and walked into the hall. Her heart was doing somersaults. Had someone come with news of Christopher? Standing there in the gloom of another November day was Larry Best.

‘Good heavens,' Catherine said, trying to calm her breathing. ‘You're the last person I expected to see. Whatever are you doing in France?'

‘I've been here for a few days,' he said, and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I thought I'd come and see how you are.'

‘Have you come to tell me about my husband?' Half of her wanted to know, but the memory of lying in Robert's arms clouded out Christopher's face and she could feel a flush rising up her neck and into her cheeks. Fortunately Madame Farcy arrived then with a tray of coffee and some little cakes, followed by Béatrice, who had come to see who her granddaughter's visitor turned out to be.

Catherine introduced him as a colleague of Robert's and left it at that, allowing the two old ladies to believe that he was some sort of entertainments officer.

When they'd gone, Catherine turned back to Larry. ‘Those two days in the country,' she said. ‘I wasn't really there for you to teach me, was I? You wanted to see what I knew about Chris. Have you found him?'

‘No,' he said. ‘Sadly, not a trace of him. I'm so very sorry. We did think that Father Gautier might be able to help us, but he died last night without regaining consciousness.'

She didn't know what to say or even to think. The one person who might have told her was dead and she was still in limbo.

‘He told me he was sorry,' she said bleakly. ‘In the car, when we were taking him to hospital. I called him a traitor and a murderer. He said, “Not a murderer.”'

‘I suppose it depends on how you define murder.' Larry Best took a gulp of the coffee and nodded his appreciation of it. ‘He was certainly a traitor, but his motives for giving away our agents are blurred. We don't know what happened, and we lost track of him for a while. But you found him.' He grinned again. ‘I thought you would.'

‘It was you,' she said, realisation dawning. ‘You sent that note.'

‘Mm,' he nodded. ‘Lennox wasn't keen, but I knew you'd go after him.'

‘I might have been killed,' Catherine said.

‘You might have, indeed. But we are at war and it's what agents do.'

‘
Mon Dieu
,' Catherine said. ‘You are very ruthless, and I am not an agent.'

‘No, and that's a pity. I wish we had found you sooner, because I'm sure there's an element of ruthlessness about you too. You sing like an angel, but underneath you're as hard as I am.'

‘I don't think so,' smiled Catherine, getting up. ‘I have a heart.'

The next morning, Robert turned up, with Beau limping along beside him.

‘Good news,' said Beau, when everyone was gathered in the salon. ‘We're off tomorrow to some camps at the front.' He looked at a piece of paper. ‘Yes, a forward camp first and then to a field hospital. So, a bit of rehearsing today, I suggest, and packing. And don't forget your tin hats.'

Della beamed. ‘Maybe the field hospital is where Tim is. Oh, I do hope so.'

Frances was the only one who didn't look particularly pleased. ‘Guy wanted to get in some ploughing,' she moaned. ‘He's way behind this year. I hoped we would be staying here a bit longer.'

‘For Christ's sake,' snorted Della. ‘You're supposed to be an entertainer and an administrator, not a bloody farm labourer. He can get on with it by himself.' She stretched her legs and did a couple of squats. ‘I do need exercise,' she groaned. ‘Or I'll never be able to do the splits again. That's what the men like and I intend to give it to them.' And using the back of the sofa as a barre, she bent and pliéd, while Frances discussed the tour with Beau and attached his piece of paper to her clipboard.

Catherine followed Robert back into the hall, where after a swift look round, he took her in his arms. ‘I've missed you,' he said.

‘It's only been a day,' Catherine whispered.

‘And a night, my darling.'

They were still kissing when Frances and Della came to find them. ‘Oops,' laughed Della, hands on hips and enjoying the scene. Frances pulled her back out of the hall, saying, ‘Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you. Er … carry on.'

When they'd gone, Catherine asked, ‘Are you coming with us tomorrow? To the front.'

He nodded. ‘I am, tomorrow and the day after, at the field hospital, but then I have to go back to England with Major Best. He didn't get anything out of Gautier, so although we know who blew all our agents in the area, we don't know why.'

‘He was a collaborator. Isn't that enough?'

He twisted his uniform cap round in his hands, taking his time to answer. ‘Possibly,' he said. ‘But I can't tell you more. Now' – he put on his cap and straightened his jacket – ‘I have to get back to Caen. I'll see you tomorrow, darling girl.' And with another kiss on her willing lips he walked out and into his Jeep.

They drove into the camp in the early afternoon of a day where the weather had closed in and the rain had changed to sleet. The bus had been left at the chateau and they were in the lorry, driven by the same two soldiers as before, who had willingly volunteered for this assignment.

‘Hey up, Walter,' called Della, when she saw him, and when Corporal Trevor went to climb into the cabin, she blew him a kiss and yelled, ‘Hello, Trevor, darling.' He ducked his head in embarrassment and grinned before starting up the engine.

Robert, Beau and Eric Baxter were in Robert's Jeep and set off before them, with an armed soldier sitting beside Robert in the front passenger seat. The Players watched them drive on ahead, and Godfrey grumbled about Eric having a comfortable ride again while he and the rest of them had to be tossed around in a ten-ton truck.

‘I'd rather he was with them, any day,' said Frances. ‘He just poisons the atmosphere. So let's settle down and try and enjoy the ride.'

Nobody enjoyed the ride. The road was threaded with potholes so that the lorry jerked and swayed around, making Catherine feel a little seasick. Because of the driving rain and sleet, they had to keep the canvas back flap closed, so that the only light came from a couple of storm lanterns that the drivers had fixed up for them. It was enough for the boys and now Della to continue with the poker school.

‘She's really got into it,' smiled Frances. ‘So quickly.'

‘Not that quickly,' Catherine whispered. ‘She's been playing it for years – she just didn't let on.'

Frances laughed. She was examining a bruise on the back of her hand, which was gradually changing from purple to yellow.

‘That looks nasty,' said Catherine. ‘How on earth did you get that?'

‘From the tractor,' Frances sighed. ‘I had the bonnet up to look at the carburettor and the damn thing fell on me.' She laughed. ‘Guy was most concerned.'

‘Worried that you'd broken your hand?'

‘God, no. He was worried that I'd damaged his beloved tractor. Mind you, he's not half as clever as he thinks when it comes to an engine. Ours at home is always breaking down and we can't afford to replace it, so I'm quite au fait with the innards of farm machinery.'

‘But despite that, you enjoyed yourself with him on the farm,' said Catherine. ‘And you were out with him last night too.'

‘Yes, we were discussing the cattle. He wants to build up a beef herd, to keep the place going while the new orchards grow. I didn't really know about the breeds they have over here and it was fascinating to hear about them.' Frances leant back against the canvas cover. ‘Yes, fascinating.'

‘And what about him?' asked Catherine with a twinkle. ‘Is Guy fascinating too?'

Frances lowered her voice and looked across to the card school. ‘He is rather,' she grinned. ‘But don't tell Della. She'll only rag me about it.'

‘I heard that,' called Della, ‘and yes, he is, and I will. You saucy minx.'

Trevor opened the partition window from the cab. ‘We're going to be about another hour, folks. The road is shit – begging your pardon, ladies – so we'll have to take it slow. Sorry.'

‘Leave that partition open, then, please,' called Frances. ‘So at least we'll have something to look at.'

‘Will do.'

It did take an hour, and by the time they reached the large clearing, which was carved out of dense pine woodland, the company felt exhausted. Walter drew the truck to a halt in front of a large, hastily erected hut that was the officers' quarters and they stumbled out of the back, stepping onto cartridge boxes, which the soldiers had hastily arranged to help them down, and then across duckboards to the open door of the hut. Soldiers, scruffy and tired-looking, gathered around to greet them, whistling their appreciation when Della posed and blew kisses to them.

‘Welcome, welcome,' said the young colonel in charge. ‘We are so looking forward to this show. The weather is beastly, so we've put up a canvas cover for you over the stage. You shouldn't get too wet.'

The company looked at each other, but nobody said anything. They'd done plenty of outdoor shows before. They were used to roughing it.

Beau and Robert joined them and Catherine had to work hard not to run over to Robert's side. He looked at her with eyes softened by love, but said nothing while Beau discussed with the colonel how much of their show they could do, considering the weather and what the camp could provide as a stage.

‘We've commandeered a piano,' said the colonel triumphantly. ‘It was in the village school, just down the road, and the school mistress said we could borrow it. Not a Steinway, of course, ha, ha, but I'm sure it will do.'

‘It will, and thank you,' said Beau.

‘I can offer tea,' said the colonel, ‘or perhaps something stronger? We captured a Jerry position a week ago and found a few cases of schnapps. It's not bad … a little hard on the gullet, going down, but' – he looked at his fellow officers – ‘we think it does the trick.'

Godfrey nodded eagerly, but Beau said, ‘Perhaps we'll leave the schnapps till the end of the show. Don't want to wreck our voices, do we, Godfrey?' He gave the tenor a hard look. ‘Now, Colonel, our pianist and I will look at the stage, if you don't mind, and then we'll see about setting up the mikes.'

In the distance, they could hear the boom, boom of cannon fire, a sound that they'd almost forgotten about, and Robert asked how far away it was.

‘Oh, ten, fifteen miles, I should think,' said a fresh-faced young lieutenant, keen to be part of the conversation. ‘We've cleared them out of here, and they are retreating. But they are determined buggers. You have to admire their guts.'

‘I don't,' said Robert coldly. ‘If you'd seen what I've seen, you wouldn't admire anything about them.'

The officer blushed to the roots of his gingery hair, and the colonel frowned. It was obvious that he didn't like his men being told off by this visiting officer. He turned to the girls. ‘There's nothing to worry about, ladies: if we don't get them, the RAF will. As soon as the weather clears, the spotter planes will be up, and then they'll send in a light bomber.'

‘We're not worried, Colonel,' said Della, giving him a flirty look. ‘We've been bombed before. None of us turned a hair.'

Catherine and Frances, remembering how frightened Della had been when they were last bombed, looked at each other but said nothing.

‘Let Hitler do his worst. We can take it,' Godfrey's voice boomed out, almost as loud as the cannons.

‘That's the spirit,' the colonel laughed, before taking Beau and Tommy outside to inspect the stage area.

The young lieutenant organised tea and biscuits. He was still embarrassed, but Robert said, ‘Sorry, Lieutenant. That was clumsy of me. No hard feelings,' and he thrust out his hand.

‘Thank you, sir,' the lieutenant said, and Della gave him a wink, which made him blush even more. But the atmosphere improved markedly and the other officers chatted animatedly with the Players, while one of them offered Godfrey a nip out of his hip flask.

‘You're a gentleman, sir,' roared Godfrey, and begged a drop more to put in his tea.

Robert caught Della's arm. ‘I thought you'd like to know. Your Dr Tim is at the field hospital where we're going after the show. They're providing the overnight accommodation, so you'll have time to be with him.'

‘Oh!' She looked at him with glistening eyes. ‘Thank you, Robert.' And she turned to the others and said, ‘Did you hear that? I'm so thrilled.'

She sounded thrilled too when she opened the show with ‘Happy Days Are Here Again' and tap-danced across the improvised stage of boards over oil drums. The audience loved her, especially as, despite the cold, she had stepped out of her uniform skirt to reveal her tiny red shorts and fishnet tights. They whistled and cheered, and were still cheering when Colin came on stage complete with wig and spangled cape over his uniform to do his act.

Godfrey sang ‘I'll Walk Beside You', his few belts of schnapps making him very emotional, and tears rolled down his cheeks as he got to the last line, ‘I'll walk beside you to the land of dreams.' He wasn't the only one in tears. Hardened soldiers wept, and even the young lieutenant blew his nose.

Only Beau stared critically at him. ‘He's been on the drink again,' he grumbled to Catherine.

‘It doesn't matter,' she whispered from where they were standing at the side of the stage. ‘He never forgets the words, and look at them.' She nodded to the audience. ‘They love it.'

After that, nobody wanted to listen to Eric and Captain Fortescue – the mood was wrong – and he came off stage to polite applause and in a filthy temper.