‘What’s he like, Chief?’ Davidson said to the instructor.
‘We’ve had better through here, sir, and we’ve had worse. He’s quite straight but a bit slow as of now. I wouldn’t worry about that. If he has to use it he’ll be faster. Everyone is when it’s real.’
Harry followed Davidson out of the greenhouse and they walked together up the brick and weed path amongst the vegetables. It was mild for November; the trees, huge above them, were already without their load of leaves and above the trees the soft meandering grey clouds.
‘I think it’s going quite well, Harry — no, I mean very well at the moment. But I don’t want to minimize anything that you’re going to have to go through. It’s all very well here, swotting for an exam if you like… but the questions themselves are very tough when you get to the actual paper. Forgive the metaphor, Harry, but it’s not an easy road over there, however much we do for you here. There are some things we can iron out at this end. Accent. It’s critical for immediate and long-term survival. You can spare your blushes but I think that’s coming along very well. Your background knowledge is fine, detail of events, names, folklore — that is all good. But there are other more complex factors, about which we cannot really do very much, and which are just as vital.’
They stopped now some twenty-five yards from the house on the edge of the old tennis court. Davidson was looking for the words. Harry wasn’t going to help him; that wasn’t his style.
‘Look, Harry. Just as important as the accent, and getting the background right, and knowing what the hullabaloo is about, is how you are going to stand up to this yourself. It’s my job to send you in there as perfectly equipped as possible. Right? Well, the thing I cannot actually gauge is how you’ll soak up the punishment of just existing there. You could have an isolation problem… loneliness, basically. No-one to confide in, not part of a local team, completely on your own. This could be a problem. I don’t know the answer to it, I don’t think you’re liable to suffer too greatly from it — that’s my reading of your file. Sorry, but we go through it most nights with a fine blade. Unless you’re aware of it, and bolt it down, there’ll come a time when you’ll want to tell someone about yourself, however obliquely, however much at a tangent. You’ll say now, never, never in a month of whatevers, but believe me it’ll happen, and you have to watch it.’
Harry searched his face, noting for the first time since he’d come to the big house the concern of the other man. Davidson went on, ‘After Aden we’re pretty confident in your ability to look after yourself. There’s a lot in the file on that. I’ve no reason to disbelieve it, you’ve shown me none. The simple day-to-day business won’t be pleasant but will be bearable. The other thing you have to consider is if you’re discovered — what happens then? There is a fair chance that if they spot you we may be getting some sort of feedback as they build up information and we’ll have time to shift you out in a hurry. You may notice something, a tail, a man watching you, questions being asked. Don’t hang about then, just come back. What I’m getting at is difficult enough to say, but you have to face it, and you’ll be better for facing it. You have to work out how you’ll react if they take you alive.’
Harry grimaced weakly. The older man was fumbling about trying to say the most obvious thing of the whole operation, stumbling in his care not to scratch the varnish of morale that was coated sometimes thickly, sometimes sparsely on all these jobs.
‘I think I can help you,’ Harry smiled at him. ‘You want to know whether I’ve considered the question of being taken, tortured and shot. Yes. You want to know whether I’m going to tell them all about here, you and everything else. Answer, I don’t know. I think not, I hope not. But I don’t know. You don’t know these things, and there’s no absolute statement I can make that would be of any use. But I’ve thought of it, and I know what you’d hope from me. Whether you’ll get it I just don’t know.’
They began to walk again. Davidson swung his right arm round behind Harry’s back and slapped his far shoulder. Like a father, thought Harry, and he’s scared stiff. It’s always been nice and comfortable for him, sitting at a desk packing the nameless numbered men off to heaven-knows where, but this time the jungle’s been creeping a bit close.
‘Thank you, Harry. That was very fairly put. Very fair. There’s things that have to be discussed if one’s to keep these things professional. I’m grateful to you. I think your attitude is about right.’ Thank God for that, Harry thought, now he’s done his duty. We’ve had our facts of life talk, ready to go out into the big nasty world, and don’t put your hands up little girls’ skirts. God, he’s relieved he’s got that little lot over.
As they came to the paint-chipped back door, Davidson started again. ‘You know, Harry, you haven’t told us much about home, about your wife. The family. It’s an aspect we haven’t really had time to go into.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about there. Not that I know of. I suppose you never do till it’s too late to be worrying about that sort of thing. She’s very level. Not complicated. That sounds pretty patronizing, but I don’t mean that. She’s used to me going away in a hurry, at least was used to it when we were younger. It’s not been so frequent over the last few years, but I think she’s OK.’
‘Did she know what you were doing in Aden?’
Harry said it slowly, thoughtfully, ‘No. Not really. I didn’t have time or the opportunity to write. There had been those little sods rolling grenades into the married quarters and smuggling bombs in with the food and things like that. The families went home before I became involved in the special stuff. I didn’t tell her much about it when it was all over. There wasn’t much to tell, not in my terms.’
‘I’m sorry you had to come over here without being able to see her.’
‘Inevitable. It’s the way it is. She’s not very service-minded. Doesn’t live off married mess nights. Doesn’t really get involved with the army scene. I think I prefer it that way. She’d like me out, but I tell her earning anyone else’s shilling than the Queen’s isn’t that easy these days. I think she understands that.’
‘The postcards will start arriving soon. The first lot that you did. And you’d better do some more before you move on.’ Davidson sounded anxious, wanting to do it right, thought Harry. As if there was anything he could say about — what was the word he used? — this ‘aspect’ of the job. Of course she’d want to know where he was, of course if she knew she would be stunned with worry. What else could she be, and what could be done about it? Nothing.
They hesitated outside the door of the big room where the work was done.
Davidson said, ‘I wanted to be sure that you wouldn’t be too concerned about your family while you’re over there. It could be important. I once had a man—’
Harry cut in, ‘It’s not a problem. Not compared with the other ones. She’ll cope.’
They went into the room where the others were waiting. Davidson thought to himself, he’s a cold enough fish to succeed. It went through Harry’s mind that his controller was either very thorough or on the reverse slope and going a touch soft. It was the only time the two men had anything approaching a personal conversation.