“Very,” Shaw agreed.
“Well, we’re very anxious to know precisely why. Naturally, we kept quiet about it, so there was nothing for the Russians to hold him on when he skipped. However, we had a man waiting just outside the Curtain and Jones was arrested on suspicion of complicity in treasonable activities… on touch-down at a certain airfield not precisely under our jurisdiction — so enough said about that! Anyhow, I gather he went quietly. Currently he’s on his way to Brixton.” The First Secretary sighed heavily. “It’s really very distressing,” he murmured, “to think how well organized that bunch were… however, don’t let’s brood too much. There are things worth celebrating when all’s said and done — and I’d be delighted if you and Miss MacKinlay would do me the honor of lunching with me?” His eyes twinkled for a moment. “I think I can promise you caviar and champagne.” Shaw caught Virginia’s eye; they’d had plans of a rather different nature, but this was akin to a command performance, so those plans would have to wait. He said, “Thank you very much, Sir Hubert. We’d be delighted.”
“Good!” Worth-Butters said heartily. “By the way, I’m arranging for you to fly back to London tomorrow afternoon. After lunch the rest of the next twenty-four hours is entirely your own, my dear fellow.”
Shaw could have sworn the First Secretary fractionally closed one eye, but that might have been no more than an illusion. What was reality, a few hours later, was the warm feeling as Virginia’s arms went round him…