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For Kingdom and Country

Page 36

by I. D. Roberts


  Once Lady Townshend had disappeared into the depths of the Customs House, the garden became a sudden buzz of excited and concerned conversation.

  ‘Gentlemen, ladies,’ Ross said, holding his hand up, and raising his voice above the chatter. ‘Please don’t concern yourselves. The general has taken ill. A touch of the Mesop Trot, I fear.’

  There was a titter and murmur of understanding, followed by knowing nods.

  ‘Lady Townshend has requested that you carry on with your drinks,’ Ross added. ‘She will return shortly.’

  ‘Thank you, Major,’ Amy said.

  ‘He’ll be fine, miss. Just overdoing things. You know your father.’

  ‘I hope you are right, Major,’ Amy said, glancing back through the French windows. Captain Nunn was inside the office turning the handle of the gramophone. Music started up again, this time a Billy Murray ragtime tune.

  ‘What the bloody hell are you up to now, Lock?’ Bingham-Smith said as he strode over to Amy’s side. ‘Upsetting my fiancée are you?’

  ‘Smith, what a great displeasure it is to see you again,’ Lock said.

  ‘I’ve a good mind to knock you out, Lock,’ Bingham-Smith said, puffing his chest out. ‘What the devil did you do to the general?’

  ‘Stop it, Casper,’ Amy said, pulling at Bingham-Smith’s sleeve. ‘Father has taken ill. A fever. Maman has gone with him to the hospital.’

  ‘Rot!’ Bingham-Smith said. ‘It’s this bothersome colonial oik, I’ll wager.’

  ‘You lookin’ for a bust in the chops?’ Betty suddenly interjected, stepping forward.

  Bingham-Smith stared down his nose at Betty, a look of distaste written across his face. ‘And who the dickens are you?’

  ‘I’m with him,’ Betty glared back, throwing a thumb at Lock.

  ‘Enough, Casper. Please,’ Amy said. ‘Come along.’ She pulled Bingham-Smith away, glancing from Lock to Betty and back again with a frown. There was a look of confused hurt in her eyes.

  ‘You wanna learn some manners, bud,’ Betty called after them.

  ‘And you want to learn to speak the King’s Eng—’

  But Amy had dragged Bingham-Smith off before he could finish his sentence.

  ‘What a heel,’ Betty said, turning away and putting a cigarette between her lips.

  Ross pulled out the lighter Lock had given him and passed it to Betty.

  ‘When I was spying on Feyzi and his military guests, Amy’s name was mentioned in conversation, sir,’ Lock said. ‘As to what context,’ he shrugged, ‘I couldn’t make out. But I think she’s still in danger.’

  Betty scoffed. ‘Boy, she’s in danger all right, hanging out with that goof. Does he always get so steamed up?’ She lit her cigarette, handed it to Lock, and lit a second for herself.

  Lock nodded his thanks. ‘Always.’

  ‘We’ll keep an eye on her, laddie,’ Ross said, taking a sip of his whisky.

  Lock was still staring after Amy, watching her engaged in a heated conversation with a clearly still agitated Bingham-Smith.

  ‘She’s a doll, I’ll give you that,’ Betty said through a cloud of tobacco smoke. ‘You got the blues over her, Kingdom?’

  Lock gave a thin smile. ‘No. I did. But not any more. They’re getting married soon. She’s having a baby.’ He let out a sigh of smoke. ‘She knows what she’s doing.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Betty said, with a gentle nod. ‘Not his, I’ll bet.’

  Lock glanced at Betty’s profile, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

  ‘I’ve got a fine single malt back at my digs,’ Ross said, as he drained his glass and put it on the tray of a passing waiter. He took his pipe and tobacco pouch out of his pocket and began to fill the bowl. ‘What say you both that we, in the words of Elizabeth here, “blow this joint”?’

  ‘Now you’re talkin’, Pops,’ Betty said with her customary lopsided grin.

  Lock glanced over at Amy one final time, then followed Ross and Betty as they pushed their way through the guests towards the wrought iron gate at the end of the garden.

  Godwinson stepped out from the small group of officers he was chatting with, blocking Lock’s path.

  Lock paused and ran his eyes over the colonel’s face.

  Godwinson’s nose twitched and he rubbed nervously at his moustache, before clearing his throat. ‘Lock, glad I caught you. I … er … That is to say … I owe you an … er … apology, too, Lock. Er … the general informed me of … er … what you did. Nailing the … er … spy … and capturing this traitor chap …’ His words dried up and he stood staring back at Lock waiting for some response.

  Lock glanced over the colonel’s shoulder to see Betty and Ross open the garden gate and step out into the stableyard. Godwinson held his hand out in offering.

  ‘So does this mean I get a Company? Sir.’

  Godwinson’s face fell and he spluttered and mumbled something incoherent about procedure and dates.

  Lock stared back at the colonel, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer, not yet. He drew on his cigarette and blew a slow trail of tobacco smoke out of the side of his mouth. Then he gripped the colonel’s hand in his. It was limp, but he shook it all the same.

  ‘Good of you, Lock. Well, no hard feelings,’ Godwinson nodded, and without another word, he returned to the group he’d been talking with.

  Lock glared at the colonel’s back for a moment, already regretting having accepted his apology, then he walked over to the gate. He paused, turned to face the garden once more.

  ‘The net’s tightening,’ he said loudly.

  A number of bemused faces broke from their conversations and looked over towards him.

  ‘What? What was that?’ Godwinson said, brow furrowed.

  ‘Traitors,’ Lock said. ‘They’re always where you least expect them.’

  ‘What the deuce is that fellow going on about, Godwinson?’ the portly lieutenant colonel standing nearby said. ‘Who the devil are you, sir?’

  Lock took a final draw on his cigarette, dropped it to the floor, and ground it out with his heel. He raised his eyes and glared back at the two officers.

  ‘My name is Lock. Sir,’ he said. ‘Captain Kingdom Lock.’

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  A note on the languages used in this book

  On many occasions a translation is provided within the text. The Arabic words and phrases are interpreted in familiar Roman letters and follow an imitated-pronunciation system. For consistency, the main source of reference was the Dorling Kindersley Eyewitness Travel Guides Arabic Phrase Book (2003).

  I. D. Roberts

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  History is inspiring and where fiction and fact merge, that’s where an adventure like Kingdom Lock is born. Some things are true, some are made up, but everything that is written has been done so to entertain. And none of this would have been possible without the help, guidance, and support of many people. So I’d like to thank, in no order of preference:

  Robert Dinsdale, Kirstie Imber, Sophie Robinson, Susie Dunlop and all at Allison & Busby, the meticulous Fliss and Simon Bage, James Sharp for his German skills, Di Pearce for her French skills, Lydia Riddle, Ben Kane, Helen Hollick, Elisabeth Storrs, Sean Ryan, Di Roberts, Kenneth Dunmore, Jesse James, Hergé, John Buchan, Ian Fleming, and, of course, Major General Sir Charles V. E. Townshend whose memoirs are a constant source of fascination and inspiration.

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  About the Au
thor

  I. D. Roberts was born in Australia in 1970 and moved to England when he was three. From a young age he developed an obsession with war comics, movies, Tintin and James Bond. For the past decade he has been the film writer for a national listings magazine. After living all over the country and buying a farmhouse by mistake in Ireland, he finally settled in the South West and currently lives in rural Somerset with his wife Di and their chocolate Labrador, Steed.

  www.idroberts.com

  By I. D. Roberts

  Kingdom Lock

  For Kingdom and Country

  Copyright

  Allison & Busby Limited

  12 Fitzroy Mews

  London W1T 6DW

  allisonandbusby.com

  First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2015.

  This ebook edition first published in 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 by I.D. ROBERTS

  Map copyright © 2015 by VANESSA ROSE

  The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978–0–7490–1970–9

 

 

 


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