‘Pardon, Madame. Er, if you’ll follow me.’
He led her towards the house but not before she said impatiently, ‘Come, Toto, hurry with those sweetmeats.’
They were ushered into a room and a frowning officer soon arrived.
‘Ah, M’sieur! At last! Your nice commandant suggested I bring you some of my famous delicacies to try. If you like them, I will see if I can arrange a special delivery each week.’
Deftly she flicked the muslin from the top tray. ‘Do taste a jelly, M’sieur, and tell me what you think.’
The officer reached out and helped himself to one. ‘Grace de Dieu, but these are very fine, Madame!’ he said, in open admiration. ‘And those are …?’
‘Coconut and pistachio, M’sieur. You have good taste. The other gentlemen of your establishment, do they enjoy fine food also?’ she asked suggestively.
‘We shall find out, Madame. Do come this way.’
Dutifully Renzi scuttled behind, bobbing his head low as they came into a drawing room where a number of other officers were relaxing with brandy.
‘Tout le monde – attention, if you please! Do try these friandises of Madame Vernou’s. They are splendid indeed, and if we approve of them, she will arrange a regular supply.’
‘For a trifle only,’ Louise added firmly, ‘and paid in advance. Put the trays down, Toto. No, not there, you simpleton. On the big table.’
Her porter hastened to obey, overwhelmed by the presence of so many fine gentlemen. ‘Now go to the kitchen and wait for me. This is no place for such as you,’ she said, in haughty tones. ‘And don’t leave that old bag here either.’
He hurried out and found the kitchen. He looked around furtively, nodding to a little scullerymaid, who introduced herself shyly, then darted away.
Nearly opposite there was a room, its door open. He saw tables with untidy piles of papers and journals, walls lined with file-shelves and maps: it could have only one purpose.
In an agony of frustration Renzi knew that all he wanted was just a few paces from him.
But there were three men in there still at work. What he would not give for one minute – no, twenty seconds – alone in that room!
Instead he had to stay where he was, waiting in a stew of frustration.
A burst of good-natured laughter broke out from the drawing room, with exclamations of surprise and gratification.
‘Merde!’ one of the men in the operations room swore. ‘What’s going on in there?’
Renzi suspected that another tray of sweetmeats had been revealed for there were sudden gasps of wonderment and delight.
‘Well, damn it, I’m finding out!’ the man said, and left.
‘And I’m not leaving it for those greedy bastards,’ retorted another, and stormed out, closely followed by the last.
Renzi teetered with indecision. He had been granted exactly what he wanted – if he took his life in his hands and stepped inside.
In a haze of unreality he found himself standing in the centre of the operations room.
Scrawled times and places on a blackboard, maps with red and blue crosses, documents with an official cast – it was all here. And he had seconds to decide what to do.
Copy them? No time, and that was not evidence. Discover some fact to prove he had been witness to the operation? Again, no time …
A burst of voices set his heart thumping but he couldn’t leave. The journals – without thinking he picked up the thickest. Times, dates, places, ships – and deployments! Steal it! The bag – where the hell was it? He snatched at it and the journal thumped to the bottom. He added another for good measure.
‘Toto! Toto! Come here, you lazy villain, and collect up these dishes!’
He bolted from the room and stood panting with reaction, willing his heart to slow and his body to droop. The three men pushed past him back to the operations room, brushing crumbs from their lips. How long before they discovered what was missing?
‘Quickly, now!’ Louise scolded, catching something of his tension.
He worked hurriedly, putting the empty dishes and trays into the bag, and flashed a look of urgency at her.
‘That’s very fine, good sirs! More of the candied papaya and honey-cakes, too. A bientot, Messieurs!’
Trying not to let their haste show, they headed for the landing stage. Louise had paid a boatman well to be there for them so they could leave quickly. While they pressed on, Renzi told her what he had done and of the incalculable prize under the dishes in his bag.
‘No sacrifice is too great to get these into English hands,’ he said, trying not to sound theatrical, even if it was the truth.
When they arrived at the waterfront there was no boat. Stunned, Renzi tried to think. A quick survey of the small harbour showed no vessel waiting off, or another on its way.
‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ he muttered: they had to lie low until they could find a way off the island. He saw a road that led to an orchard up the slope, ironically not far from the fort. Trying not to look conspicuous they moved away quickly. At the end of the fruit trees a meandering path led further. They passed a returning field worker, who gaped, then shouted after them.
Without looking back they hurried on, finding that the track led to a makeshift pig-pen. Then the thud of a gun sounded from the fort, and a flag of some kind was hoisted rapidly.
There was no alternative but to go on. Renzi led the way past the startled animals and they came to a wall of thick tropical undergrowth. Louise froze, holding back. Renzi urged her to continue. ‘I – I c-cannot!’ she blurted, her face a mask of fear. ‘La Scolopendra!’
Renzi knew the gun at the fort was probably a summons to the soldiery and then the hunt would be on in earnest – they had to make the interior by dark, where they could hide.
Louise burst into tears. ‘I’m h-holding you up, M’sieur Renzi. Go on, I beg!’ With a sob it came out: a species of giant millipede a foot or more long with savage venom infested these forests, and a childhood terror had developed into a phobia.
‘Louise, you must come with me! Be brave!’ He held her hand and tried to pull her on but she resisted.
He took the bag, threw out the dishes, fashioned the drawstring into a bowline, and slipped it over his shoulder.
‘Forgive me, Madame,’ he said, lifted her up and plunged into the wilderness of deep green whipping fronds and soaring palms. She cried out in terror, then shut her eyes and gripped tightly as Renzi pushed on.
After they had reached deep into the tropical forest she tapped his shoulder gently. Renzi stopped and let her slide to the ground.
‘Mon cher, I am better now,’ she said, and tried to smile.
Renzi could see she was not, but accepted it for the act of courage it was. She seemed to sense his feeling and impulsively kissed him. ‘Shall we go on?’
When they’d first arrived, he’d taken a mental bearing of the centre of the small, round island and tried to stay with it as they pushed through. If this was the same kind of dense lowland rainforest as he had seen in other parts of the Caribbean the going would become difficult, but fortunately here the ground cover was more open, less intertwined, and they made progress.
An hour passed and the growth thinned. A bare upland area showed ahead. Cautiously Renzi ventured there and looked back where they’d come. Spread across his vision, and no more than a mile off, he saw a line of soldiers beating as they advanced.
‘We have to get away,’ he said urgently. ‘Where should we go? What’s to the north?’
‘Well, only another three miles. It’s where the old fort used to be,’ she panted. Her dress was soiled and she tried to smooth her dishevelled hair, somehow finding pins to put it up again.