‘So, Hope, I’ve been hearing you’re getting to be rather a dab hand at writing these public information films. I suppose I should try and catch one,’ said my stepfather.
We were in Fitzroy’s office in Whitehall, next to the Ministry of Information, on the fifth floor, with wide windows looking out onto a bright October day. If it wasn’t for the tape on the windows, the sandbags in the streets, and my gas mask sticking awkwardly into my hip, it could have been any lovely autumn day in London from any time.
I had been back on duty for three weeks, quite recovered from my run-in with Dashwood, the traitorous actor, and the single solid lead to the underground Kingpin, Prometheus, an unknown London gangster who had been smuggling cocaine, hiding bodies in bomb-blitzed houses and looting the great and the good across the city.
Dashwood had tried to kill me. My efforts to save myself had resulted in my throwing him from a fifth-floor window and the long scar across my lower back where his bullet had scraped me. Later, Fitzroy had vowed never to give me the opportunity to work alone again – apparently, I took too many risks – and partnered me permanently with Leo, an intelligence officer senior to me in rank, but lacking my lifelong instruction from Fitzroy.
Unusually, Fitzroy was in uniform. He was wearing an army one with the rank of colonel. Of course, with him, you never actually knew what rank he was entitled to wear. I sometimes wondered if he remembered. He had been standing tidying the papers on his desk when I arrived. Another odd sign. Typically, his desk was one of organised chaos.
‘Yes, it’s been going well,’ I said. ‘Leo seems to have got a handle on directing too.’
‘Hmm, Leo,’ said Fitzroy in a tone that didn’t bode well for my fellow intelligence officer. ‘Yes, he seems to have found his niche. I know I said I’d keep you two together, but I don’t think he is the right man for you. We’ll be moving him on to bigger things.’
‘I think he was hoping to go back to working with the SEO training programme,’ I said.
‘Hmm,’ said my stepfather. ‘Sit down, Hope. You’re making the place look untidy.’
I did as I was told. With Fitzroy I never knew if I was dealing with my doting godfather, my affectionate stepfather or my demanding commanding officer, or some hellish combination of all three. He swept several files off the desk and into an open drawer, which he then locked. He tucked the key into a top pocket and sat down himself. ‘Done!’ he said. There were three files left on the desk. I assumed they were for me.
‘Now, Hope,’ he said, swivelling his chair round and reaching for his brandy decanter. ‘As you might have guessed, I have brought you here to give you a new assignment.’ He poured himself a small brandy and swished it around in the bottom of the glass.
‘Is it to do with Prometheus?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Fitzroy. ‘As I explained before, your face is too well known now to carry on with that business.’ He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the window. ‘It’s been reassigned. Should be dealt with by Christmas.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘Can’t offer you one,’ he said. ‘You’re on duty.’
‘And you’re not?’ I asked. Fitzroy raised an eyebrow and managed to convey both disapproval and humour in the glance.
‘I am almost off duty,’ he said. He put the glass down on his desk and sat back in his chair. He regarded me over interlaced fingers. ‘Thing is, I’m a bit worried about your mother.’
‘Mother? Is she unwell?’ My mother was currently pregnant.
‘And of course, I’m getting on a bit.’
My jaw dropped, but I recovered myself quickly. Fitzroy was, at worst, in his early fifties, and a lifetime of working as an agent of the Crown had seen him dashing around all over the place doing dangerous things. He had always been extremely fit, when he hadn’t been shot or stabbed or otherwise injured. As a child, I had many memories of him recovering at my parents’ home after some escapade.
‘I know you are surprised, Hope, but I am no longer a young man. Regardless of how I appear.’
I took my time replying. Somewhere in all this there was a trap waiting to be sprung, I was sure of it. I considered the man in front of me. He was lean, handsome, his hands large and muscular. Taller than the average man by a good few inches, he was currently sporting short light brown hair and a tidy moustache. I knew his natural hair colour had been red, far too remarkable for an intelligence officer in the field. What I didn’t know was how much, if any of his hair, had turned to grey. He was so used to dyeing his hair, I doubted his vanity would let it show.
But there was something different about him. In my memory he was like some quick half-drawn sketch or watercolour. I remembered the sense of him, but fixing his exact image was hard. But today, he seemed more solid. As if someone had finally coloured in between the lines, and he had at last become fully present.
‘Well, Leo is a lot younger than you, certainly,’ I said provocatively.
‘Leo is, to quote my late grandfather, a whippersnapper. He’s a young pup who knows far less than he thinks he does. Your mother thinks he will amount to something. I am less convinced.’ He gave a short and rather unpleasant bark of laughter. ‘I think your mother has been overly affected by her current state. She had the audacity to suggest he was rather like me at that age. As if!’
‘Where are you sending him?’
‘I don’t suppose it hurts you knowing. Although I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell him before his orders arrive – he’s off to work with the propaganda unit. He might be some use there.’
‘Am I going with him as a writer?’
Fitzroy shook his head. ‘No, I have something far more important for you to do. I’m raising your rank to acting captain. Don’t take too much by it. Everyone gets promoted during wartime.’ He paused. ‘That sounded unkind. I didn’t mean it like that.’
He rested his elbows on the table and met my eyes. Meeting his gaze was always an unnerving experience. He had the ability, at least with me, to make me feel guilty, even when I had nothing to be guilty about.
‘I should like to give you a higher rank, but you don’t have the experience of handling enough people under your command, so I don’t think I can. Commanding others is a particular skill, and not one you were ever trained for. If you were a big and burly lad, it would be easier. Utterly unfair, as lummoxes like that rarely have brains. But you’re going to have to find your own way of exuding authority. Until you do, I can’t put you in a position where someone higher up could suddenly drop a command on you. However, I can give you my authority to act on. Such an odd way of putting it, but it should help you out if you get yourself into a corner.’
‘Thank you, I think. But surely you could prevent someone from—’
Fitzroy flashed me one of his brightest smiles, suddenly looking many years younger than his true age, and alarmingly mischievous. He bounced out of his seat. ‘So, as I was saying, I’m heading back down to the country to be with your mother when things kick off for her. I’m also setting up a small training establishment in the grounds that should help with the war effort. Best not to mention that to anyone.’
‘And what would you like me to do?’ I asked.
‘Oh, take over here, of course.’ He opened his arms wide. ‘I put my empire in your hands.’ I gawped at him. ‘Buck up, Hope. Someone has to run this office and it can’t be that damp squib, Leo. Everyone else I have is in the field. You’re up.’
Me, an Empress?
‘I beg your pardon?’ I managed to gasp.
‘Really shouldn’t be a lot to it. I expect three things of anyone working for me: loyalty, initiative and intelligence. My chaps and ladies are all well briefed. Shouldn’t bother you at all.’
He lifted up a hand. ‘Now, I know what you will say. Life is unpredictable when there’s a war on. But they’ve been trained for that. It’s the other departments you have to look out for. Always poking around trying to find ways of running off with our budget. You just assure anyone who’s not one of ours that everything is under control. Smile. Look enigmatic. Never apologise. Never explain. Never, ever, tell anyone you don’t know something. I’m a master of secrets. You’re standing in for me. Ergo, you are a master of secrets.’
‘What if they ask me about things I don’t know?’
‘Smile enigmatically and get the hell out of the room as fast as you can. Move with purpose and everyone will get out of your way.’
‘Hmm,’ I said.
‘Well, I suppose my height and natural confidence do help. As I said, you need to try and cultivate a presence yourself, Hope.’
I opened my mouth to protest, but Fitzroy carried on. ‘I’ve left you three open files that need particular attention.’ He ran a thumb along his neat moustache. ‘Thing is, I couldn’t exactly write down what you needed to know, so you’ll have to work it out.’
‘You could just tell me,’ I said.
Fitzroy bent down and picked up his case. ‘No time.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘If I leave now I should make it in time for dinner. Telephone me if you must, but remember, in these days we rarely trust the line. I’d suggest speaking in Arabic, but you’re not the linguist type, are you, Hope? Probably won’t be a lot we can discuss. Just make the best of it, my dear. You’re smart enough in your own way.’
I stood as he came out from behind the desk. I had no idea if I should salute or embrace him. He solved the problem for me by kissing me on the top of my head. ‘I’m trusting you,’ he said. ‘You understand how I think better of you than anyone except your mother. Whatever happens, just think what would Fitzroy do and do it. You’ll be fine.’
And with that he opened the door and went out. The door opened again a second later and Fitzroy threw me a key ring. ‘Office key. Your office now. And secret key.’ Then he was gone, leaving me feeling as if I had been thrown in a sack and rolled down a hill.
I went round the other side of the desk and sat down in the swivel captain’s chair. It was still warm from him. I looked at the files in front me. Then I did what Fitzroy would do and helped myself to a brandy.
Unlike my stepfather I don’t generally drink brandy. A glass of champagne is more my style – and just a glass. I’m not really that much of a drinker. But, as expected, my stepfather kept only the best. The brandy was smooth, warming and seductively soft. I drank two Fitzroy-sized measures before it occurred to me that being drunk in uniform wasn’t the greatest idea and I should stop now.
I opened one of the files and the typewritten words within swum before my eyes. I slammed the file shut, suddenly afraid the print would leap off the page and run down the corridor. It occurred to me then that not having a third brandy was rather akin to locking the stable door after the horse had not so much bolted, as moved out, gone on manoeuvres and was now in another far-off country. In other words, my sobriety was undoubtedly in question. Cautiously, I opened the file once more and the letters continued to dance. I flipped it closed and leaned back in Fitzroy’s seat.
Outside the windows, the glorious autumn day was shifting into late afternoon. My stomach rumbled. I’d rushed over to see Fitzroy without dropping by the Ministry of Information’s canteen first. I must have been sitting there for some time. It wasn’t as if I had even been thinking great and useful thoughts. If anything, I felt shocked rather than anything else. I hadn’t yet got as far as worrying about the files. The shock was merely that Fitzroy would leave his empire in my hands, even if it was for . . . what? A few days? A few months? I counted on my fingers. Definitely months. My half-sibling wasn’t due until Christmas at the earliest. Maybe even the start of the New Year. My mother had not been exact. Probably she was also in shock. She had been with my dearly departed father for decades and I had been the only offspring. Now, in her early forties, she had been married to Fitzroy for less than a year and was pregnant. Whenever Fitzroy entered the equation the world turned upside down.
I got unsteadily to my feet and then sat down again with a thud. Maybe I would wait a little while before I headed off. I attempted to try the ‘secret key’ in the locked drawer. I fumbled with it, but it was clear it was the wrong size.
‘Bugger!’ I said aloud.
It appeared my transformation into Fitzroy had begun.
Leo
I entered the flat the moment that Leo was crossing the living room. We both stood frozen for a moment, looking at each other. He was in uniform, smart, handsome, dark haired and wearing his thirty-something years well. He was a bit shorter than Fitzroy, and his waistline had suffered from sitting at a desk for too long, but he carried himself well. I smiled. Leo blushed red and turned away. ‘Nice to see you, Hope,’ he said.
I walked carefully into the room, clutching my files under my arm. ‘Glad you’re still here,’ I said. Ash, the cat who had adopted us, picked up the mood and bolted across the floor and onto the balcony. Where he would either catch pigeons to supplement the irregular meals supplied by Leo and I, or go and visit another of his homes.
‘Have you fed him?’
Reluctantly Leo turned round. ‘I’ve been summoned,’ he said. ‘Hence this.’ He indicated his uniform. ‘I’m hoping I’m being sent up to Scotland. I know you’ll be sad to see me go, but . . .’
I lurched over to the sofa and sat down heavily. I waved a hand casually. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m going to be busy anyway.’ I tucked the files underneath me to keep them secure.
‘Have you been drinking?’ asked Leo. ‘My God, you’re in uniform.’
‘Had a bit of a shock.’
Leo’s rigid formality vanished and he quickly came to sit with me. He took my hands in his.
‘This is nice,’ I said.
‘What’s happened? Are you all right? Is your family all right?’
‘I’m a Fitzroy,’ I said, my mood plummeting.
Leo’s brows creased. ‘There were always rumours about your mother and him working so closely together. It’s good he has acknowledged you, isn’t it?’
I laughed. ‘No! Not like that! He’s gone out of town and left me his office – and all that goes with it.’
‘His brandy?’ asked Leo, sniffing my breath. ‘I can’t believe he would get you drunk.’
I shook my head. ‘Did that all on my own. He’s handed his entire bloody department over to me for the next few months. Promoted me to captain. Acting captain.’
Leo let go of my hands and sat back with a sigh. ‘You can’t run a department,’ he said. ‘You don’t have either the rank or the experience.’
‘Oh, none of the people in the department will mind about my rank.’ I hiccupped. ‘They don’t really bother with that sort of thing. Could you get me a glass of water, please?’
Leo got up and disappeared into the kitchen. I laid my head back on the edge of the sofa and watched the afternoon light dance across our ceiling. It looked like the sea. I was jolted out of my reverie when a cold glass was shoved into my hand and a plate of bread and butter was dumped in my lap. Leo stood above me, frowning.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘You’ve put me in a damned awkward position again,’ he said.
‘You seem to be standing fine to me. Tall and handsome,’ I said, biting into a piece of bread and discovering I was enormously hungry.
‘I thought we agreed to forget about what happened after the film wrap party?’
‘You mean us sleeping together again?’ I asked.
‘Exactly,’ said Leo, blushing adorably. ‘We were both far too caught up in the moment.’
‘And you were the only good-looking man there.’
‘Hope! I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘And I’m going to go and be sick,’ I said.
I returned a little while later feeling much more sober, if rather frail. Leo was still in the living room. ‘I am so sorry,’ I said. ‘I really was shocked by his decision, but that’s no excuse.’
Leo looked up from what he was reading.
‘Hey! Who said you could read those?’ I snatched the files from him.
‘You can’t possibly manage a department on your own. I shall have to ask to stay in position here.’
I was torn between his usual assumption that I wasn’t up to par and the idea he would give up going back to training the SOE, where his heart lay. I sat down in an opposite chair, and took a sip of water. ‘Let’s look at the files.’
The first one contained a slip of paper that merely said: Meet Rubicon, Thursday, lunchtime. The second one had nothing but a name: Captain David Bradshaw, investigate. The third file had a hand-scrawled note that read arson and IDS in Fitzroy’s looping handwriting.
‘He’s not exactly giving you a lot of detail, is he?’
‘He’ll think there is enough,’ I said.
‘How?’ asked Leo. ‘It’s gibberish. Are you sure you picked up the right papers.’
‘I’ll work it out,’ I said. ‘You don’t want to be late for your meeting.’
My Irrepressible Bad Penny
Leo had been gone no more than fifteen minutes before there was a knock at the door. I opened it. ‘Forgotten your keys—’ I broke off as I saw a grinning Harvey in front of me.
‘Whatcha, Hope!’ he said. ‘Fitzroy’s assigned me to you. I’m finally off the MOI! So, what we doing?’ He checked his watch. ‘I’ve got two and a bit hours before I’m off to the old fire service duty. Fill me in, my old chum.’
‘That’s Acting Captain Chum to you,’ I said, opening the door wide. ‘Come in. It’s good to see you.’
Harvey rubbed his hands together. ‘Going to be just like the old days, us working together. Is it a good scheme? Got a bit of havey-cavey stuff for me to do? Maybe a cuppa as well?’ He gave me his best puppy-dog look. I gave in and went to m. . .
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