The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

dropped into his hand and he quickly replaced the mouthpiece before tucking the film into the inside pocket of his coat. Replacing the receiver in its cradle, he turned to leave the booth, closing the door again behind him. By the pre-arranged signal, if the door was left open, it meant that he had left something in turn to be picked up. By closing the door, he signaled that he needed more time. As the man walked away from the booth and headed to the corner of the dark street, his lips thinned into a line. His handler would be unhappy with the delay, but there was really no help for it.

When Robert Ainsworth had unceremoniously passed away in Bern, he hadn’t had the package with him. If he had, the man would have not only heard about it, but would have it in his possession. Not surprising, really. It wasn’t the sort of thing one would carry when traipsing across Europe in the twilight of another bloody war. It was far too dangerous. No. Robert had undoubtedly left it at his home in Lancashire, and that was where he would find it. The problem was retrieving it. His attempt yesterday had been a useless exercise. He would have to try again, and that meant his associates would have to wait.

The man crossed the road and turned down another street, heading towards Waterloo Station. He wasn’t worried about finding the package; he had no doubt that he would. What concerned him was that in doing so, the likelihood of his being uncovered increased ten-fold. Right now, he was above suspicion in all respects. That wouldn’t last if he continued to poke around in Robert Ainsworth’s affairs.

His lips tightened and he buried his hands in his coat pockets. There had already been a round-up of the others. They’d been uncovered and detained practically as soon as war was declared. The only thing that saved his own identity was his strict insistence that no one ever knew of his existence. In the beginning, his superiors had thought him overly cautious. In light of the recent arrests, however, they had been forced to admit that he had been right to keep himself firmly in the shadows. Now he was the only one left.

And he had no intention of being caught.

Chapter Five

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Evelyn lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the sun and peered across the south lawn at the driveway in the distance. A black, low-slung Lagonda was speeding towards the house and she felt her pulse give a little leap. Rob was back from collecting Miles at the train station.

“Your Tante Adele seems to be recovering from her bout with influenza,” her mother said, looking up from a letter in her hand. “She writes that they hope to be able to travel soon and come to visit.”

“Oh good!” Evelyn turned her eyes to her mother. “That will be nice company for you. How are Gisele and Nicolas?”

“Fine. Up to their usual pranks, I gather.” Her mother folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. “I do wish they had been able to make it to the funeral.”

“They could hardly travel when she was so ill. At least they will be visiting soon.”

“Yes, but you and Robbie will have returned to your stations.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave. How will I keep myself busy?”

Evelyn reached across the table and squeezed her mother’s hand, a gentle breeze blowing a long strand of hair into her eyes.

“You’ll manage, I’m sure. Have you heard from Auntie Agatha? I thought she was considering coming to stay with you for a few months.”

“I haven’t had a letter from her yet, but you know your aunt. I’ll receive the letter a day before she arrives.” Mrs. Ainsworth set aside her correspondence. “Isn’t there any possibility of your getting assigned to a posting closer to home?”

“We’ve been over this, Mum. I can’t change stations just yet. Perhaps after Christmas I can apply for something closer.”

Before Mrs. Ainsworth could reply, the butler emerged from the house, stepping onto the flagged stone patio and clearing his throat.

“Mr. Mansbridge, ma’am,” he announced.

Evelyn looked up in surprise as a tall, dark haired man dressed in a charcoal gray suit followed the butler outside.

“Stephen!” Mrs. Ainsworth exclaimed, standing and moving forward to greet him. “What a surprise!”

“Hallo! I’ve come with my tail between my legs to beg your forgiveness for missing the funeral the other day,” Stephen Mansbridge said, taking her hands in a light clasp. “I couldn’t get away from London. I’m so very sorry.”

“I understand,” she said with a smile. “Your mother explained everything. Come, have a seat. Can I offer you tea?”

“Thank you.” Stephen followed her to the table and smiled warmly at Evelyn. “Hello, Evie. How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose,” she replied, taking his outstretched hand. “Did you come on the train?”

“No, I drove up. I’m on my way to Wales.” Stephen seated himself next to her. “Is Rob still on leave, or has he returned to his Spitfire already?”

“He’s still here. He’s just gone to the station to pick up a friend of his,” Mrs. Ainsworth said. “He’ll be returning to Duxford tomorrow.”

“He’s actually just arrived back,” Evelyn said. “I saw the car drive up.”

“Jolly good, I’ll see him after all. I was afraid I’d miss him.” He looked from one woman to the other. “How was the funeral? Were you inundated with all the distant relatives you’d forgotten about?”

Evelyn couldn’t repress the chuckle that bubbled up.

“How did you know?” she demanded.

“Call it a hunch,” he said with a grin.

“Now Evelyn, don’t be impertinent,” Mrs. Ainsworth admonished. “It was kind of them to come.”

“I’m sorry, Mum. Of course it was.” Evelyn smiled sheepishly.

“I am sorry I couldn’t make it up,” Stephen said. “I did try. If there was any way I could have been here for you, Evelyn, you know that I