Midnight Never Comes - Jack Higgins [29]
'And a damned good job too,' Donner said.
Asta appeared in the doorway, smiling weakly. 'I'm terribly sorry, everyone. I'm afraid I made something of a fool of myself. Could we go now, Max? I'm rather tired.'
And as his arm went round her, it was there in the look in his eyes, his instant solicitude, just as Chavasse had guessed from that single photo in the file, that one expression as he had looked up at a sixteen-year-old girl.
'We'll go now, angel,' he said. 'Right now.' He glanced over his shoulder at Chavasse. 'We can drop you off on the way. We pass your uncle's place.'
'That would be fine,' Chavasse said.
Murdoch took the wheel for the drive down the glen, Asta and Donner beside him on the large bench seat, the Doberman at their feet on the floor. Chavasse sat in the rear with Ruth Murray and when the Land Rover swayed on a bend, she leaned against him and smiled.
'The roads aren't quite up to twentieth century standards, Mr. Chavasse. A trifle primitive like everything else in these parts. Will you be staying long?'
'Depends how I like it,' he said. 'I could stay for a month if I wanted. I'm a university lecturer and the term doesn't start until October.'
'Which university?' Donner asked.
'Essex.'
The big man nodded, lapsing into silence again and rain rattled against the windscreen. Ruth Murray smiled. 'Here it comes again. Rain, Mr. Chavasse. Rain and yet more rain and the wind driving in from the Atlantic six days out of seven. I could think of more attractive places for a holiday, but then I suppose it depends what you're looking for.'
'Peace and quiet mainly,' he told her.
Murdoch changed down and swung into a narrow drive through trees with the lights of a house beyond, and braked to a halt. There was a lamp in the porch and lights showed at a window through a chink in drawn curtains, but it was difficult to see much else of Ardmurchan Lodge in the darkness and driving rain.
Chavasse started to get out and Asta turned quickly. 'I hope to get a chance to thank you properly, Mr. Chavasse. Tomorrow perhaps?'
'Plenty of time for that, angel,' Donner told her. 'Let's give Mr. Chavasse a chance to settle in.'
Chavasse got out and as he had expected, Donner followed. 'I'll just see you to the door,' he said and pressed the bell.
Footsteps approached almost at once, the door opened and a greying, military-looking man in a black alpaca jacket peered out. 'Yes, who is it?' he said and then he saw Chavasse and opened the door wide. 'Why, Mr. Paul, we were getting quite worried about you.'
'Hello, George,' Chavasse said briskly. 'You picked up my luggage at Lochailort, did you?'
'We did, sir. The guard gave us your message.'
Chavasse turned to Donner. 'I'd ask you in for a drink, but under the circumstances...'
Donner squeezed his arm. 'I'm the one who'll be supplying the drinks, sport. I'll be in touch.'
He hurried back to the Land Rover. Chavasse stood there, watching it drive away and when he turned, George drew himself stiffly to attention.
'Mr. Chavasse? George Gunn, late Company Sergeant Major, Scots Guards. If you'll come this way, sir. Colonel Craig's waiting in the library.'
7
Council of war
Colonel Duncan Craig, D.S.O., M.C. and bar, carried his seventy years well and when he pushed back his chair, stood up and walked to the fireplace, he moved with the physical assurance of a man many years his junior.
He filled his pipe from a tobacco jar and turned to face Chavasse, the lamplight shining in his white hair. 'Have another brandy, my boy. You look as if you could do with it.'
'It was rather a long walk,' Chavasse said.
'At least you've accomplished stage one of this operation as I see it, which was to get to know the girl. Under the circumstances, I should imagine we'll be good for a dinner invitation to Donner's place at the very least.'
'You sound as if you're looking forward to the prospect.'
'Eagerly, my boy. Eagerly. There I was, rotting away by inches in Edinburgh with only old George Gunn for company and then Graham Mallory appeared from out of the blue and asked