The exercise was a success. Johnson was pleased; Avery enthusiastic; Leiser manifestly delighted. They had made two faultless transmissions, Johnson said; Fred was steady as a rock. At eight o’clock they assembled for dinner wearing their best suits. A special menu had been arranged. Haldane had presented the rest of his Burgundy; toasts were made; there was talk of an annual reunion in years to come. Leiser looked very smart in a dark blue suit and a pale tie of watered silk.
Johnson got rather drunk and insisted on bringing down Leiser’s wireless set, raising his glass to it repeatedly and calling it Mrs. Hartbeck. Avery and Leiser sat together: the estrangement of the last week was over.
The next day, a Saturday, Avery and Haldane returned to London. Leiser was to remain in Oxford with Johnson until the whole party left for Germany on Monday. On Sunday, an Air Force van would call at the house to collect the suitcase. This would be independently conveyed to Gorton in Hamburg together with Johnson’s own base equipment, and thence to the farmhouse near Lubeck from which Operation Mayfly would be launched. Before he left the house Avery took a last look around, partly for reasons of sentiment, and partly because he had signed the lease and was concerned about the inventory. Haldane was ill at ease on the journey to London. He was still waiting, apparently, for some unknown crisis in Leiser.
Fifteen
It was the same evening. Sarah was in bed. Her mother had brought her to London.
“If you ever want me,” he said, “I’ll come to you, wherever you are.”
“You mean when I’m dying.” Analyzing she added, “I’ll do the same for you, John. Now can I repeat my question?”
“Monday. There’s a group of us going.” It was like children: parallel playing.
“Which part of Germany?”
“Just Germany, West Germany. For a conference.”
“More bodies?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Sarah, do you think I want to keep it from you?”
“Yes, John, I do,” she said simply. “I think if you were allowed to tell me you wouldn’t care about the job. You’ve got a kind of license I can’t share.”
“I can only tell you it’s a big thing … a big operation. With agents. I’ve been training them.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“Haldane.”
“Is that the one who confides in you about his wife? I think he’s utterly disgusting.”
“No, that’s Woodford. This man’s quite different. Haldane’s odd. Donnish. Very good.”
“But they’re all good, aren’t they? Woodford’s good too.”
Her mother came in with tea.
“When are you getting up?” he asked.
“Monday, probably. It depends on the doctor.”
“She’ll need quiet,” her mother said, and went out.
“If you believe in it, do it,” Sarah said. “But don’t—” She broke off, shook her head, little girl now.
“You’re jealous. You’re jealous of my job and the secrecy. You don’t want me to believe in my work!”
“Go on. Believe in it if you can.”
For a while they did not look at one another. “If it weren’t for Anthony, I really would leave you,” Sarah declared at last.
“What for?” Avery asked hopelessly, and then, seeing the opening. “Don’t let Anthony stop you.”
“You never talk to me—any more than you talk to Anthony. He hardly knows you.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“Oh—God.”
“I can’t talk about my work, you know that. I tell you more than I should as it is. That’s why you’re always sneering at the Department, isn’t it? You can’t understand it, you don’t want to; you don’t like its being secret but you despise me when I break the rules.”
“Don’t go over that again.”
“I’m not coming back,” Avery said. “I’ve decided.”
“This time, perhaps you’ll remember Anthony’s present.”
“I bought him that milk lorry.”
They sat in silence again.
“You ought to meet Leclerc,” said Avery. “I think you ought to talk to him. He keeps suggesting it. Dinner… he might convince you.”
“What of?”
She had found a piece of cotton hanging from the seam of her bedjacket. Sighing, she took a pair of nail scissors from the drawer in the bedside table and cut it off.