Along with Maude, the other woman Flick had not met before was Lady Denise Bowyer. Percy had interviewed her at Hendon and had recruited her despite signs that she was indiscreet. She turned out to be a plain girl with a lot of dark hair and a defiant air. Although she was the daughter of a marquess, she lacked the easy self-confidence typical of upper-class girls. Flick felt a little sorry for her, but Denise was too charmless to be likable.
This is my team, Flick thought: one flirt, one murderess, one safebreaker, one female impersonator, and one awkward aristocrat. There was someone missing, she realized: the other aristocrat. Diana had not appeared. And it was now half past seven.
Flick said to Percy, “You did tell Diana that reveille was at six?”
“I told everyone.”
“And I banged on her door at a quarter past.” Flick stood up. “I’d better check on her. Bedroom Ten, right?”
She went upstairs and knocked at Diana’s door. There was no response, so she went in. The room looked as if a bomb had hit it-a suitcase open on the rumpled bed, pillows on the floor, knickers on the dressing table-but Flick knew this was normal. Diana had always been surrounded by people whose job it was to tidy up after her. Flick’s mother had been one of those people. No, Diana had simply gone off somewhere. She was going to have to realize that her time was no longer her own, flick thought with irritation.
“She’s disappeared,” she told the others. “We’ll start without her.” She stood at the head of the table. “We have two days’ training in front of us. Then, on Friday night, we parachute into France. We’re an all-female team because it is much easier for women to move around occupied France-the Gestapo are less suspicious. Our mission is to blow up a railway tunnel near the village of Marles, not far from Reims, on the main railway line between Frankfurt and Paris.”
Flick glanced at Greta, who knew the story was false. She sat quietly buttering toast and did not meet Flick’s eye.
“The agent’s course is normally three months,” Flick went on. “But this tunnel has to be destroyed by Monday night. In two days, we hope to give you some basic security rules, teach you how to parachute, do some weapons training, and show you how to kill people without making a noise.”
Maude looked pale despite her makeup. “Kill people?” she said. “Surely you don’t expect girls to do that?”
Jelly gave a grunt of disgust. “There is a bloody war on, you know.”
Diana came in from the garden with bits of vegetation clinging to her corduroy trousers. “I’ve been for a tramp in the woods,” she said enthusiastically. “Marvelous. And look what the greenhouse man gave me.” She took a handful of ripe tomatoes from her pocket and rolled them onto the kitchen table.
Flick said, “Sit down, Diana, you’re late for the briefing.”
“I’m sorry, darling, have I missed your lovely talk?”
“You’re in the military now,” Flick said with exasperation. “When you’re told to be in the kitchen by seven, it’s not a suggestion.”
“You’re not going to get all headmistressy with me, are you?”
“Sit down and shut up.”
“Frightfully sorry, darling.”
Flick raised her voice. “Diana, when I say shut up, you don’t say ‘Frightfully sorry’ to me, and you don’t call me darling, ever. Just shut up.”
Diana sat down in silence, but she looked mutinous. Oh, hell, Flick thought, I didn’t handle that very well.
The kitchen door opened with a bang and a small, muscular man of about forty came in. He had sergeant’s chevrons on his uniform shirt. “Good morning, girls!” he said heartily.
Flick said, “This is Sergeant Bill Griffiths, one of the instructors.” She did not like Bill. An army PT instructor, he showed an unpleasant relish in physical combat and never seemed sorry enough when he hurt someone. She had noticed that he was worse with women. “We’re just about ready for you, Sergeant, so why don’t you begin?” She moved aside and leaned against the wall.
“Your wish is my command,” he said unnecessarily. He took her place at the head of the table. “Landing with a parachute,” he began, “is like jumping off a wall fourteen feet high. The ceiling of this kitchen is a bit less than that, so it’s like leaping into the garden from upstairs.”