Secret Army

  ‘Did you see where Luc disappeared to?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Joel said. ‘He went out just after your brother.’

  *

  Paul was feeling worse as he got tired. He sat on the toilet with a throbbing head and, although he’d escaped serious injury, aches and bruises made every movement a trial.

  ‘My old mate!’ Luc smiled, as Paul slid the bolt across the door and stepped out of the cubicle. ‘Fancy seeing little Paulie here!’

  Luc grabbed Paul by his pyjama top, swung him around effortlessly and bundled him into the shower area at the back of the room. The floor was covered with puddles and steam hung in the air.

  ‘Leave me the hell alone,’ Paul protested.

  Luc mocked Paul’s voice as he shoved backwards through the puddles and jammed him against the tiles. ‘Nuh-na-na-nuh-nuh-nuh.’

  ‘Let me go.’

  Luc lifted Paul off the ground with one arm and thumped him against the wall. ‘I tell you what,’ he smiled. ‘I had enough fun with you down in the hall this morning, so I’ll let you go if you lie down on your belly, kiss my feet and tell me how great you think I am.’

  ‘I’d sooner die,’ Paul spat.

  Luc laughed. ‘Do it now, or I’ll smack you around and make you.’

  Paul considered his options. If he yelled, Luc would stick his hand over his mouth and probably knock his head against the wall for good measure. If he stood his ground he’d end up taking another beating. So lying on the floor, getting his pyjamas soaking wet and kissing Luc’s feet was pretty much his only option.

  ‘You’re twisted,’ Paul said, as he went down on one knee. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  As Paul spoke, the bathroom door came open. Rosie leaned in and shouted out. ‘Paul, are you OK?’

  The showers were off to the side, so Rosie couldn’t see the boys. Luc put a finger in front of his lips and gave Paul a severe look.

  ‘Keep your trap shut.’

  Part of Paul wanted to yell out, but he didn’t want Rosie to see him kneeling on the floor, being humiliated.

  ‘Paul,’ Rosie shouted, then she turned back and spoke to someone else. ‘I don’t think he’s in here.’

  ‘I’ll check the showers up the back,’ Joel said.

  Luc grabbed Paul up off the floor and eyeballed him. ‘You say one word,’ he growled menacingly.

  ‘What are you doing back here?’ Joel asked.

  He was joined at the entrance to the showers by Rosie, Marc and PT.

  ‘Why can’t you keep your hands off my brother?’ Rosie shouted.

  ‘I haven’t touched him,’ Luc smiled. ‘He slipped in a puddle. I was helping him up.’

  Paul looked at the wet leg of his pyjama trousers as PT and Joel stepped up to Luc.

  ‘I turned a blind eye when it was the odd shove or kick in the hallway,’ PT said angrily. ‘But it’s well out of order now. It’s got so that Paul can’t even go to the toilet without you smacking him around.’

  In the background, Marc threw a mound of towels in the sink and turned on the cold tap, full blast.

  ‘I can take any one of you, just like that,’ Luc said aggressively, snapping his fingers.

  ‘But not all of us,’ Joel said pointedly. ‘Rosie and PT have warned you to cut out the bullying, but you’ve ignored us. McAfferty would expel you if she found out, but we’re prepared to give you one chance.’

  Luc looked uncertain as Paul backed away from him.

  ‘Fine, I’ll stop,’ Luc said indignantly. ‘What do I care? He’s just a scrawny little poofter anyway.’

  ‘That’s agreed then,’ PT smiled. ‘Now lie face down on the floor.’

  ‘What?’ Luc gawped.

  ‘Face down,’ PT repeated. ‘What’s so hard to understand?’

  ‘You’re not just getting away with it,’ Rosie smiled. ‘We’re gonna teach you a lesson.’

  ‘You can stick that idea,’ Luc said, as he moved into a boxer’s stance. ‘I’ll flatten the lot of you.’

  Rosie charged forwards. She was smaller than Luc, but she’d done a lot of hand-to-hand combat training over the last three months and was naturally fast. As Luc lunged and swung a punch, Rosie ducked low, head-butted him in the stomach and drove him back against the tiled wall.

  Before Luc could hit back, PT and Joel grabbed his arms.

  ‘You’re all dead,’ Luc screamed.

  Rosie hooked her feet around Luc’s ankles and his sole skidded easily on the wet floor. He landed hard on his knees and Joel and PT threw him forwards on to his face.

  ‘Stick something in his trap to shut him up,’ Rosie said.

  PT grabbed a flannel that had been hung to dry over a radiator. Rosie pinched Luc’s nostrils and PT crammed it in as Luc opened his mouth to breathe.

  As Luc gagged on the soapy-tasting rag, Marc twisted one of the wet towels into a rope, wound it around Luc’s ankles, then bent them back towards his buttocks. PT took the loose ends of the towel and looped them expertly around Luc’s wrists before pulling them into a tight knot.

  ‘Who’d have thought Henderson’s tying-up-a-suspect exercise would come in handy so soon?’ Marc smiled.

  Paul’s conscience twanged as he watched the bully who’d been making his life a misery shivering on the wet floor, with his mouth plugged and his ankles and wrists trussed painfully behind his back. Seeing justice dished out was satisfying, but could two wrongs really make a right?

  Marc twisted another dripping towel into a rope and gave it to Paul.

  ‘I reckon you should go first.’

  ‘We could all get expelled for this,’ Paul said warily.

  Joel shrugged. ‘They’re teaching us espionage: how to look after ourselves and use our initiative. Isn’t that what this is?’

  Rosie didn’t share her brother’s doubts. She snatched the towel out of Paul’s hand and flicked it expertly. After a sharp crack it left a huge stinging welt on Luc’s back.

  Luc screamed into his gag.

  ‘Ahh, doesn’t baby like it?’ Rosie grinned, as she whacked him again.

  Marc grabbed another towel, and launched two hard licks on Luc’s back, then Joel and PT took the towels and had a go themselves. Joel’s long arms were perfect for delivering a thrashing and Luc made his loudest scream of the night as his first blow swiped between his shoulder blades. PT’s first blow hit the same spot, opening up a bloody welt.

  Paul stepped in front of the older boys and raised his hands. ‘Six of the best,’ he said nervously. ‘I reckon that’s enough.’

  ‘Ten of the best if you’re counting,’ Joel laughed, as he held his towel out towards Paul. ‘Go on, make it a nice round dozen.’

  Paul took the towel, but the blood pooling in the dip between Luc’s shoulder blades gave everyone a sense that they’d gone too far already.

  ‘Babykins is crying,’ Marc noted gleefully, as he crouched down and watched tears streaking down Luc’s face.

  ‘Shall we untie him?’ Rosie asked. ‘What if he goes crazy?’

  PT straddled Luc and spoke fiercely. ‘As far as we’re concerned the score’s even and it’s a clean slate. But if you lay another finger on Paul, this will happen again.’

  Luc cursed furiously into his gag and finally managed to spit it out.

  ‘I think he wants to be friends,’ Marc grinned.

  ‘Give him a while to mull things over,’ PT said. ‘If he’s lucky we’ll come back and untie him before bedtime.’

  ‘What if someone hears him?’ Paul asked.

  PT thought for a couple of seconds. ‘We’ll warn the other kids, none of them likes him much. The staff never use our bathroom and you won’t hear him moaning from out in the corridor.’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ Marc agreed. ‘Now let’s play some poker. Are you sure you don’t fancy sitting in for a few hands, Paul?’

  Paul still hurt in all the places where he’d hurt a few minutes earlier, but the way everyone had stood up for him made him feel c
ompletely different. ‘Why not?’ he smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Poker took over the minds of the five young players. They forgot about war, dead parents and the aches and tiredness from a day of tough training. All they had was the luck of the cards, their wits and bragging rights over the control of a valueless mound of buttons.

  A towering man dressed in army officer’s uniform snapped them out of it. ‘Cards,’ he said, in an austere voice. Then, as he took long strides towards the table, ‘Poker, I see.’

  Paul, Rosie, Troy and Joel’s eyes followed him suspiciously. PT, the oldest, stared directly at the officer and broke their silence.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure, sir.’

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ the mystery man said with a smile. ‘Captain Ramsgate, Scots Guards. Admiral Hammer dispatched me to check your little operation out.’

  ‘Does Superintendent McAfferty know you’ve arrived?’ PT asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  Rosie’s chair grated backwards as she stood up. ‘I’ll go fetch her. She’ll want to see you straight away.’

  ‘I thought you were due in the morning,’ Marc added.

  Captain Ramsgate took a sideways step to block Rosie’s path. ‘I’ll report to the superintendent in good time,’ he smiled. ‘Admiral Hammer told me to get my worthless hide up here and surprise you all. I took the liberty of walking across the artillery range, rather than approaching via the security post on your front gate. You can learn a lot more about a place when your arrival comes as a surprise.’

  PT smiled as he expertly shuffled the cards. ‘Would you like to join us for a few hands, Captain?’

  The captain didn’t answer. Instead, he snatched the battered card deck off the table and shuffled it rapidly from hand to hand. His speed made PT look amateurish.

  ‘Cut the deck anywhere you like,’ Ramsgate said, as he placed it on the table in front of Troy.

  Troy looked up uncomprehendingly.

  ‘His English isn’t too good, sir,’ PT explained, as Rosie translated the instructions into French for Troy’s benefit.

  Troy cut the deck and placed the cards from the top underneath the deck. Ramsgate unveiled the top card, which was the king of hearts.

  ‘Who wants to bet me their whole pile of buttons that the next three cards off the pile aren’t also kings?’ Captain Ramsgate asked.

  The kids all smiled, but after seeing how expertly he’d shuffled none of them took on the bet. Ramsgate turned the next two cards, revealing the king of diamonds and the king of spades, but the final card was a three.

  ‘Oh well,’ PT said. ‘Almost a clever trick though.’

  Captain Ramsgate scratched his head, apparently mystified as to how his trick had failed. ‘That is odd,’ he said. ‘Where could it be? Oh, wait, I think …’

  The captain reached inside his blazer and miraculously produced the king of clubs from the inside pocket.

  ‘Well, how did it get there?’ he smiled, as he placed it on the table beside the other three kings.

  The kids all laughed and clapped. Captain Ramsgate saw the degree of interest in PT’s eyes. ‘If I get time I’ll teach you that one,’ he said. ‘It’s mostly sleight of hand, but it takes practice to make it look smooth.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ PT smiled. ‘My dad taught me a few card tricks back in the day, but nothing as elaborate as that.’

  ‘I can see you’re a trickster,’ Captain Ramsgate acknowledged, as he picked up the four kings and carefully examined tiny nicks in the top corners of each card. ‘If you deal these cards, I assume you always manage to win.’

  Paul gasped. ‘PT, you cheating son of a—’

  But he stopped abruptly when Rosie kicked him under the table. This was an inspector sent from Whitehall, after all.

  ‘So you five fancy yourselves as spies?’ Captain Ramsgate said, steepling his enormously long fingers as he squatted on the corner of Rosie’s bed. He was so tall that even when seated he had a clear view over the heads of the five youngsters around the table. ‘Why is that?’

  Marc was first to answer. ‘I’d rather do something than lie in my bed while the Boche drop bombs on me every night, like in London.’

  ‘They killed our dad,’ Rosie said, as she pointed across the table at Paul. ‘They would have killed us if Commander Henderson hadn’t found us.’

  ‘So what kind of training have you been doing?’

  ‘All sorts,’ Rosie replied. ‘Everything from general fitness like running and swimming, to pistol shooting, radio operations, hand-to-hand combat and explosives training.’

  ‘Explosives, eh?’ Captain Ramsgate said, as he smiled mischievously. ‘Have they let you blow up anything good?’

  ‘Instructor Takada showed us how to make a tripwire mine,’ Joel said. ‘We blew up one of the cottages, but there’s a shortage of plastic explosive.’

  ‘Mostly we practise with blocks of marzipan,’ Paul explained. ‘It has a similar texture.’

  ‘And you can eat it afterwards, once you’ve scraped the dirt off,’ Joel added.

  Ramsgate laughed noisily. ‘What about people who say it’s wrong to send people as young as yourselves undercover? How would you answer them?’

  There was a pause before Marc took up the challenge. ‘First of all, sir, we’re facing a superior enemy. That means every able-bodied person has to do their bit.’

  ‘I saw what happened with the invasion in France,’ Joel said. ‘Whole towns turned to rubble. Dead people and animals everywhere. If the Germans do invade Britain, it’ll be worse for us than going undercover in France.’

  ‘I see,’ Captain Ramsgate said. ‘But working undercover could be extremely dangerous. If you were captured you could be tortured mercilessly. Have you really considered the consequences?’

  Marc showed his missing front tooth. ‘We’ve all been in France, we know what it’s like. I’ve had a tooth ripped out by the Gestapo. Paul and Rosie’s dad died, then their boat got bombed. Joel had family in Germany who’ve all been beaten up because they’re Jewish.’

  ‘I agree with Marc,’ Paul said. ‘I’d rather fight and die than sit on my bum. If the Germans win we’ll suffer ten times as bad.’

  As Paul said this, Henderson appeared in the doorway. It was gone nine and he’d come upstairs to make sure that all the kids were going to bed on time. He was stunned by the sight of Captain Ramsgate on the corner of Rosie’s bed.

  ‘I thought you were arriving tomorrow,’ Henderson said warily, as he saluted the captain and then shook his hand.

  Captain Ramsgate laughed. ‘To see the freshly polished floors and watch a parade of neatly dressed boys, no doubt!’

  Henderson’s stance shifted awkwardly. ‘Well, sir, it’s rather what’s expected under these circumstances.’

  ‘Yes,’ Captain Ramsgate said. ‘But I think I’ve learned a good deal more chatting with your young trainees. They’re a bright bunch, no doubt about it, and raring to go undercover. I look forward to seeing them perform in the field tomorrow. Now perhaps you’d be kind enough to find me a bed for the night?’

  ‘Yes,’ Henderson said, his voice sounding warmer than before as he realised that Captain Ramsgate’s unconventional approach made him more likely to take a positive view of his espionage unit. ‘Perhaps you’d like a drink at the house first, and I can introduce you to Superintendent McAfferty.’

  ‘I like the sound of that!’ Captain Ramsgate replied.

  As the two officers turned towards the door, PT stepped away from the table. ‘One moment, Captain Ramsgate.’

  When the captain turned around he was surprised to see that PT held a calfskin wallet, a set of keys and a military identity card bearing his own picture.

  ‘Yours, I believe, Captain,’ PT said. ‘Your wife and daughter are both very pretty.’

  Ramsgate’s mouth gaped as he felt inside his trouser pockets to confirm that his things were really gone. ‘Well, I’ll be darned,’ he laugh
ed. ‘So I’m not the only one who knows a few tricks, eh?’

  But Henderson seemed cross. ‘PT, using your pickpocketing skills on a senior officer is not appropriate behaviour. You’re lucky he’s taking it in such good humour.’

  ‘I didn’t take anything,’ PT explained. ‘But I had to check that you were who you said you were. You might have been a German storm trooper for all we knew.’

  Captain Ramsgate and Henderson both laughed. ‘What would you have done if I was?’ the captain asked.

  Joel answered. ‘Commander Henderson showed us how to make garrottes out of chicken wire last week. I’ve still got my one under my bed.’

  ‘They’ll take your head clean off if you twist hard enough,’ PT added, before making a dramatic choking noise.

  ‘OK, that’s enough, you lot,’ Henderson smiled. ‘You should have been in bed and lights out ten minutes ago and we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’

  Captain Ramsgate spoke discreetly as Henderson opened the door out on to the hallway. ‘I’m desperate for a tinkle.’

  ‘No problem, sir,’ Henderson said. ‘There’s one just down the hall. Our facilities are newly installed and quite impressive, even if I do say so myself.’

  The two men were all smiles as they headed down the hallway. Back in the bedroom, PT, Paul, Marc and Rosie gawped desperately at each other.

  ‘They’ll find Luc!’ Paul said.

  ‘Maybe they won’t,’ Troy said encouragingly. ‘He might be asleep or something. But remember, I had nothing to do with it, and I’d better get back to my room. Goodnight!’

  ‘Dammit!’ Marc said, as he crashed backwards on to his bed. ‘We’re right in the shit now.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Captain Ramsgate’s early arrival had scuppered Henderson’s plans for an elaborate display, but he was too busy to deal with the incident in the showers and an unspecified punishment hung over the trainees’ heads as they rose early and completed their normal cross-country run with heavy packs. Paul managed despite aches all over, but Marc got a lie-in because his lungs weren’t up to anything athletic after the smoke inhalation.