to grow up in. His young-old wisdom was charming, but he seemed like a child who did not have much fun. She experienced a rush of compassion for him, a motherless child in an alien country besieged by foreign armies. She left the drawing room and went upstairs. There seemed to be three or four bedrooms on the second floor, with a narrow staircase leading up to a third floor where, presumably Gaafar slept. One of the bedroom doors was open, and she went in. It did not look much like a small boy’s bedroom. Elene did not know a lot about small boys-she had had four sistersbut she was expecting to see model airplanes, jigsaw puzzles, a train set, sports gear and perhaps an old, neglected teddy bear. She would not have been surprised to see clothes on the floor, a construction set on the bed and a pair of dirty football boots on the polished surface of a desk. But the place might almost have been the bedroom of an adult. The clothes were folded neatly on a chair, the top of the chest of drawers was clear, schoolbooks were stacked tidily on the desk and the only toy in evidence was a cardboard model of a tank. Billy was in bed, his striped pajama top buttoned to the neck, a book on the blanket beside him. “I like your room,” Elene said deceitfully. Billy said: “It’s fine.” “What are you reading?” “The Greek Coffin Mystery.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, don’t stay awake too late.” “I’ve to put out the light at nine-thirty.” She leaned forward suddenly and kissed his cheek. At that moment the door opened and Vandam walked in.
It was the familiarity of the scene that was so shocking: the boy in bed with his book, the light from the bedside lamp falling just so, the woman leaning forward to kiss the boy good night. Vandam stood and stared, feeling like one who knows he is in a dream but still cannot wake up. Elene stood up and said: “Hello, William.” “Hello, Elene.” “Good night, Billy.” “Good night, Miss Fontana.” 214 Ken Follett
She went past Vandam and left the room. Vandam sat on the edge of the bed, in the dip in the covers which she had vacated. He said: “Been entertaining our guest?” “Yes.,, “Good man.” “I like her-she reads detective stories. We’re going to gwap books.” “That’s grand. Have you done your prep?” “Yes-French vocab.” “Want me to test you?” “It’s all right, Gaafar tested me. I say, shes ever so pretty, Isn’t she.” “Yes. She’s working on something for me-it’s a bit hushhush, so. . .” “My lips are sealed.” Vandam. smiled. “That’s the stuff.” Billy lowered his voice. “Is she, you know, a secret agent?” Vandam put a finger to his lips. “Walls have ears.” The boy looked suspicious. “You’re having me on.” Vandam shook his head silently. Billy said: “Gosh!” Vandarn stood up. “Lights out at nine-thirty.* “Right-ho. Good night.” “Good night, Billy.” Vandam went out. As he closed the door it occurred to him that Elene’s good-night kiss had probably done Billy a lot more good than his father’s man-to-man chat. He found Elene in the drawing room, shaking martinis. He felt he should have resented more than he did the way she had made herself at home in his house, but he was too tired to strike attitudes. He sank gratefully into a chair and accepted a drink. Elene said: “Busy day?” Vandam’s whole section had been working on the new wireless security procedures that were being introduced following the capture of the German listening unit at the Hill of Jesus, but Vandarn was not going to tell Elene that. Also, he felt she was playacting the role of housewife, and she had no right to do that. He said: “What made you come here?” “I’ve got a date with Wolff.” THE KEY TO REBECCA 21z
“Wonderful!” Vandam immediately forgot all lesser concerns. “WheDT’ “Thursday.” She handed him a sheet of paper. He studie(l. the message. It was a peremptory summons written in a clear, stylisb script. “How did this come?” “A boy brought it to my door.” “Did you questior the boy? Where he was given the message and by whom, and so on?” Shc wa:., crestfallen. “I never thought to do that.” “Never mind.” Wolff would have taken precautions, anyway; the boy would have known nothing of value. “What will we do?” Elene asked. “The same as last time, only better.” Vandam tried to sound more confident than he felt. It should have been simpic The man makes a date with a girl, so you go to the meetin~-: plac.: and arrest the man when be turns up. But Wolff was unpredictable. He would not get away with the taxi trick again: Vandarn would have the restaurant surrounded, twenty or thirty men and several cars, roadblocks in readiness and so on. But be might try a different trick. Vandam could not imagine what-and that was the problem. As if she were reading his mind Elene said: “I don’t want to spend another evening with him.” “He frightens me.” Vandam felt guilty-remember Istanbul-and suppressed his sympatfiy “But last time he did you no h~irm.” “He didn’t try to seduce me, so I didn’t have to say no. But he will. and I’m afraid he won’t take no for an answer.” “We’ve learned our lesson,” Vandam said with false assurance. “There’ll be no mistakes this time.” Secretly he was surprised by her simple determination not to go to bed with Wolff. He had assumed that such things did not matter much, one way or the other, to her. He had misjudged her, then. Seeing her in this new light somehow made him very cheerful. Hc decided he must be honest with her. “I should rephrase that,” he said. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that there are no mistakes this time.” Gaafar came in and said: “Dinner is served, sir.” Vandam smiled: Gaafar was doing his English-butler act in honor of the feminine company. 216 Ken Follett