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

“That depends on my father. Eventually I’ll have to take over the estate.” He shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Before you joined the WAAFs and started training young things to work in the grid stations, there must have been something you wanted to do. Come on. Fess up. What was it?”

“I love how you assume to know what it is that I train my girls to do,” she said a grin.

“I thought we’d already established that I know all your dirty secrets,” he retorted teasingly. “There’s no point in pretending now.”

Evelyn swallowed as guilt washed over her. If he had even an inkling of her dirty secrets, he would run as fast and as far as he could. And who would blame him?

“And you still haven’t answered the question,” he continued, oblivious to her discomfort.

“I was still trying to figure that out,” she said honestly. Here, at least, she could be truthful with him. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. My mother wanted me to get married and set up house with a respectable and suitable peer, of course.”

A faint smile played on his lips. “But that didn’t suit you?”

She shook her head. “Not much, no.”

“What about your father? What did he have to say?”

“He suggested a career, actually. He said I should go to university and find a use for my talent for language. I toyed with the idea of journalism, but then all this happened and, well, here we are.”

Miles sipped his brandy, studying her over the rim.

“Would you have enjoyed journalism?” he asked.

“I’ve always enjoyed world politics and events, so perhaps,” she said thoughtfully.

“Will you try it after the war, do you think?”

“I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

He chuckled and held up his glass in a silent toast. “Touché.”

“This war certainly isn’t turning out to be what everyone expected, is it?” she asked after a moment of silence. “Here it is, Christmas, and things seem to be getting worse.”

“You’re talking about what’s happening in Scandinavia?”

She nodded.

“Finland will fall,” he predicted. “Although, they’re putting up a much stronger fight than I think the Soviets expected.”

“Let’s hope they hold out.”

“Chamberlain sold thirty of our fighters to them,” Miles said with a shrug. “With any luck, they’ll help.”

Evelyn glanced at him. “But you don’t think they will.”

He shook his head.

“No. And eventually Hitler will turn his attention to France. We’ll need our fighters then, and Chamberlain is selling them all off.”

She sipped her drink, thinking once again of the reports of aircraft production coming out of Germany. Hitler was also ordering an increase in ammunition and mine production. Miles was closer to the truth than he knew.

“What does he think thirty fighters are going to accomplish against the entire Soviet force?” he continued. “Finland needs troops and support, not a handful of planes that we’ll soon be needing.”

“They’re England’s ally,” she reminded him. “Chamberlain had to send them something.”

“Yes, but not planes. We have precious few to spare. Do you have any idea how many fighters we have ready to defend England right now? Less than a thousand. Do you know how many fighters Goering has under his command? Round about two thousand.” Miles got up restlessly and went over to the desk to open the cigarette case there. “And those are just the fighters!” he added over his shoulder. “We should be keeping our fighters for our own defense.”

He opened the box and took out a cigarette. Turning, he offered the box to her and she leaned forward to take one.

“How do you know those figures are accurate?” she asked, inwardly shaken at how close his numbers were to the truth.

“My CO and I were discussing it earlier this week.” Miles looked at her sheepishly. “I’m not supposed to know the numbers, but I do. He let it slip.”

He flicked open his lighter, holding it out for her.

“And I’m bloody angry that Chamberlain is selling the few planes we do have to other countries.”

Evelyn watched as he lit his cigarette and began pacing in front of the fire. He knew entirely too much, but she couldn’t say anything without revealing her own knowledge on the subject. She decided to change the direction of the conversation instead.

“Do you think the war will really continue into France then?” she asked. “A lot of people don’t think it will.”

“Everyone said Hitler wouldn’t go past the Sudetenland. Then they said he wouldn’t go into Poland. Then they said the war would be over by Christmas. Now they’re saying he won’t go into France.” Miles paused to flick ash into the fire. “I think you’ll agree that we can’t assume anything anymore when it comes to Herr Hitler.”

“I think he’ll try as well,” Evelyn said with a sigh. “Why wouldn’t he? Look at how quickly his forces went through Poland. France was already invaded once this century, and he was there. He knows it can be done.”

“Have you read his book?” Miles asked suddenly, glancing at her.

She swallowed hard. Not only had she read it, but it was that book that had convinced Bill to approach her on that long ago day in Paris.

“No. Did he write one?” She managed a feigned look of surprise.

He nodded. “I plowed my way through it this summer. It’s a monstrosity of a thing, not well written at all, and makes almost no sense.”

“Hm. Sounds like the man himself.”

Miles flashed her a grin, then sobered again.

“It’s a rambling mess, jumping from one soap box to another, but there are some rather disturbing things in it. If he’s able to implement even half of what he discusses in there, it will be Hell on earth.”

Evelyn was silent, thinking of Karl in Strasbourg and what he’d told her of the concentration camps. Since then, she’d learned more. Not only was Hitler making good on what he’d written in Mein Kampf, but it seemed he was doing