‘Look after this one, Kim,’ Hildy told him. ‘She had a bit of a head start at home, so go easy on her. We want to make sure she gets to the finish line.’
Kim gave Rachel a dimpled grin. He had a friendly, boyishly chubby face with a heavy drinker’s complexion, and one of those voices that tickled your belly, no matter what he said. He was an up-and-coming young officer, close to Sir Stewart, who worked at Blenheim Palace liaising with the Summer Court. Rachel reckoned he was the perfect target for Max’s scene. The dance of her gastric butterflies became a brisk waltz.
‘Have we finally broken through your defences, Mrs White?’ he asked. ‘I have never known you to drink anything stronger than tea.’
‘Perhaps that was my problem all along,’ Rachel said, swaying slightly. ‘I never quite appreciated that drinking was the best part of the job. Can you make me a short one, please?’
‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure, madam.’
Kim poured her a Pimm’s and laced it with absinthe. She downed the concoction in one go. It went straight into her stomach and sent up a fountain of warmth that left her dizzy.
‘Thank you. I think this one was a tad too short. Could you make the next one longer?’
Laughing, Kim mixed her another drink. As she sipped it, his expression grew serious.
‘Listen, I could not help hearing about what happened. A terrible shame, really. Those old Colonials can be dreadful. My former Section V chief Cowgill was the same, paranoid and frankly quite dim. So chin up. There’s nothing that time and unfeasible quantities of drink won’t cure. Bottoms up, what?’
‘Bottoms up,’ Rachel said and lifted her glass.
They gossiped for a short while. Apparently all the secretaries at Blenheim had already been warned about Roger Hollis and his philandering ways, and no one would go out with him. Rachel laughed loudly at that, for appearances’ sake, and said that Roger’s reputation was exaggerated. To her knowledge, he was hopelessly smitten with one secretary in particular.
Defending Roger reminded her that she had been unfair to him. He was one of the good ones, like Kim. And now she would have to be unfair to Kim, too, for England.
Halfway through her fourth drink, she decided it was time.
Rachel closed her eyes and leaned on the table, exaggerating her state of inebriation just a little.
‘Thank you for all the sympathy, Kim. I appreciate it. Really. I am sure it is well meant. It’s just that I can’t drink my way to the Summer Court like you. I wish I could, but the only thing I will get for my troubles is cirrhosis, and they don’t give out Tickets for that.’
‘Steady on, now—’ Kim started.
‘You know, I have been at the Court for nearly twenty years. Where were you twenty years ago, Kim? I started as a clerk. How did you start?’
‘Look, Rachel—’
‘Tell me. How did you start at the Court?’
‘Well, I think it was Guy Burgess who talked his way in first and put in a good word for me,’ Kim said. ‘Listen, I understand that you are upset, but you must know that you are amongst friends here.’
‘Easy for you to say. I get blamed for something I could do nothing about and now I am doing sums for Mrs Scaplehorn.’ She let out a small sob. ‘No one put in a good word for me. No one.’
She leaned on the table heavily now. Kim started to come around to her side but she shook a finger at him.
‘No touching! No fraternising with colleagues, now. I am just one of the boys to you, aren’t I? Or is that what you prefer, like with Nick Elliott?’
She hated herself for saying it. But the bitterness had to ring true, and so she forced the words out. Philby’s face darkened.
‘Only I am not one of the boys, Kim. I am the girl. I will always be the girl. If I make a mistake, it is because I have a nervous temperament, not because I am following orders from an incompetent nincompoop. If I get upset, maybe it’s that time of the month.’
‘Rachel—’
‘Mrs White to you! I am a married woman. I should not be here on my own, with all these dis-disreputable people.’ She managed to slur the words convincingly and raised her voice.
‘Good girls don’t get to go to Summerland. Good girls don’t get to be spies.’ A tear ran down her face. Max had made her rehearse the outburst several times, but she had never managed to cry before. People were watching her now. Tommy Harris stood up. She hoped that Bloom was amongst the crowd, but if not, the story would get to him soon enough.
‘So maybe it’s time I stopped pretending to be one.’
She wiped her nose. Her elbow brushed against her glass. It plummeted to the floor and shattered into glittering fragments.
At least I did not get any more stains on Tommy’s table, Rachel thought. Then she cried a mixture of fake and real tears, and allowed Tommy and Philby to lead her away.
* * *
‘No, really, Tommy, I am absolutely fine. I don’t need a taxi.’
Tommy Harris refilled her water glass from a crystal carafe and handed it back to Rachel. She drank gratefully. They were in his studio—Tommy was an amateur painter—a brightly lit, high-ceilinged room with an unvarnished wooden floor and covered canvases. It smelled of paint and pipe tobacco.
‘Are you sure? It’s no trouble.’
‘I am so sorry about making a scene. It was stupid. I want to stay.’
‘Of course. You are always welcome here, Rachel, no matter what happens.’
There was a knock on the door.
‘Hullo there.’ Guy Liddell, the deputy chief of the Winter Court, gave them a jowly, apologetic smile. His banker’s suit was even more rumpled than usual. ‘Would you mind if I have a quick word with our patient, Tommy?’
‘Of course. Make sure you stay for food, Rachel. We went an extra mile, this time.’ He vanished through the door, and after a moment they heard the grand piano.
Liddell sat down on Tommy’s painter’s stool.
‘I want you to know that nobody blames you for Kulagin,’ he said. ‘I spoke to Harker. He overreacted, of course. But you overstepped. And I do agree with him, for once. It was a misinformation gambit. You could not have known.’
‘I should have known.’
‘Nonsense. None of us saw it. It was a mess, with me pulling one way, Harker and Vee-Vee the other. You got caught in the middle. I am truly sorry, and I will do everything I can to help.’
Rachel squirmed mentally. She had not expected Liddell’s support. It made her feel warm.
‘Like I told Tommy, it is perfectly all right,’ she said. ‘I might take some time off. Travel with Joe. There is a nice place in France we haven’t been to for a while.’
Liddell patted her arm with a stubby-fingered hand.
‘That’s good. That’s good. When the fuss dies down, there might be an opening in the Irish Section, if you are interested.’
It would be a sensible thing to do. She had the experience. She could be leading the Section in a couple of years. But her rant at Philby had not been entirely fabricated. Was that Max’s trick? Maybe he saw what was inside his agents and used them in just the right way to bring it out?
Rachel forced a smile. ‘I will think about it.’
‘That’s all I ask. And Rachel? I am sure I don’t have to tell you this, but whatever nonsense Kulagin told you—do keep it to yourself. We have enough trouble with the Summer Court as it is.’
Not Liddell, too, Rachel thought.
Your superiors will do anything to keep him safe in order to secure favours from the highest level, Max had said.
‘Of course,’ she said aloud. ‘I completely understand.’
‘Now, shall we go and face the music?’