Devlin spent the next few days finding transport suitable for Eagle. On Sunday afternoon he rode back to the village, having bought a truck and a jeep from a garage two hundred kilometres away. He was to collect them the following week.He approached the church just as evening prayers were begining. He was extremely wet after his long motor cycle ride through the rain. But remembering Molly, he smiled and went in.
Molly Prior was sitting with her mother, a midele-aged woman with a kind face. Devlin sat down a couple of rows behind them. When Molly turned round she simply looked at him for a second, then turned away. He realised why she didn't smile at him when he saw Arthur Seymour's mad eyes fixed to him.
After the service, Molly introduced her mother to Devlin. "We thought you might like to come and have tea with us," Molly said.
Behind them Devlin saw Arthur Seymour watching furiously. "It's very nice of you," he said, "but to be honest, I'm in no fit state."Mrs Prior reached out to touch him. "Lord bless us, boy, you're wet through. Get home and dried quickly - and come and see us another time."
Back home, Devlin lit an enormous log fire and changed into dry clothes. he was hungry, but too tired to cook. Instead, he took his bottle of whisky and a book and sat down to read by the firelight . Perhaps an hour later, the door opened. Without seeing her, he knew Molly was there.
"What kept you?" he said, without turning.
"Very clever - after I've walked over wet fields in the dark to bring you your supper. A meat and potato pie - but I suppose you've eaten."
He groaned aloud. "Don't go on. Just get it into the oven as quick as you can."
She did so, then took off her boots and raincoat.
"What are you reading?" she asked."Poetry." He handed her the book.
She looked at it in the firelight. "But I can't understand it.It's in a foreign language."
"Irish," he said. "The language of kings." He tooke the book and read to her.
"That's beautiful," she said when he stopped. She dropped down on the mat beside him, leaning against his chair, one hand touching his arm.
"Jesus, Joseph and Mary help me," said Devlin.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, girl dear, that if you don't get that pie out of the oven and on the plate this instant, I won't be responsible."She laughed. "Oh, I do like you," she said. "From the first moment I saw you I liked you." She got up and took the pie out of the oven.
After the meal they didn't talk much. She made him read more poetry to her, while she leant against him. It was far worse than he could have imagined. Not in his plan at all.
Later he walked her home. When they arrived at her gate she asked, "I was wondering. On Wednesday afternoon if you're free, I could do with some help. Some of the heavy machinery needs moving. You could have your dinner with us."
How could he refuse? "Why not?" he said.
She reached up and kissed him, with a fierce, inexperienced urgency that was incredibly moving. She leaned against him and he said gently, "You're seventeen and I'm a very old thirty-five. Have you thought about that?"
She looked up at him, eyes blind. "Oh, you're lovely," she said. "So lovely."
Devlin watched her enter her house, then started back across the fields. Suddenly Arthur Seymour stood in front of him. "I warned you," he said, "but you wouldn't listen. Now you'll have to learn the hard way."
Devlin had his shotgun with him. It wasn't loaded, but no matter. He pointed it at Seymour.
"Now you be careful," he said. "I've a licence from Sir Henry to shoot rats...."
Seymour jumped back. "I'll get you, see if I don't. And the girl, too."
He turned and ran into the night. Devlin moved on towards his cottage. He wasn't worried for himself. But Molly?
"My God," he said softly, "if Seymour harms her, I'll kill him. I'll kill him."
While Steiner and his men were training for Eagle, Radl brought Harvey Preston to join the unit. Steiner studied Preston's file, and was far from pleased with what he read.
"Do you seriously expect me to take that - that object, Max?" he demanded.
"It's the Reichsfuhrer's idea, not mine." Radl said.
"He must be mad. This operation needs a highly disciplined group of men who can move, act and think as one. That's exactly what we have, Max."
"I accept that completely."
"Then how on earth do you expect them to work with and outsider? Especially one like Preston? He doesn't even know what real soldiering is - and he's never parachuted in his life."
"True," Radl said. "But Preston has to jump only once, and in a perfect dropping area. It's surely possible to train him for that single occasion? Anyway, I'm afraid he goes - because the Reichsfuhrer thinks it's a good idea."
"Well, if I have to take him, I'll take him," said Steiner. "But by the time his training's finished, he'll wish he'd never been born."
In her small bedroom, Molly was trying to make herself attractive. Devlin was expected for dinner at any moment. As she pulled on her only pair of silk stockings, each mended many times, there was a knock at the front door. She slipped on her shoes and ran downstairs. But it was only Laker Armsby, who stood beside a tractor loaded with potatoes."Where do you want this lot, Molly?"
"In the barn, please. Here, I'll show you."
They crossed the yard, and Laker started to open one of the great barn doors. Just inside stood Arthur Seymour, cap low over the mad eyes. He seized Molly by the wrist and pulled her to him.
"Get in here. I want words with you."
Laker held Seymour's arm weakly. "Now look here, Arthur," he said. "That's no way to behave."
Seymour pushed Laker backwards into the mud, bringing a rush of blood to the old man's nose.
Molly kicked out furiously. "You let me go!"
"Oh, no. Never again, Molly." He bolted the door and took hold of her hair. "Now you be a good girl and I won't hurt you. Not if you give me what you've been giving that Irish devil."
"You smell like an old pig," she said, and bit his wrist hard. Seymour cried out in pain, loosening his hold. She turned and ran for the ladder to the upper floor.
When Devlin arrived a moment later, he saw Laker flat on his back, a bloody handkerchief to his nose. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"It's Seymour," Laker told him. "Got Molly in there, he has, and he's bolted the door."
Devlin tried his shoulder and realised at once that he was wasting his time. Then he saw the tractor. In a moment he had driven it across the yard and burst through the huge doors.
Seeing Seymour half-way up the ladder, Devlin jumped down from the tractor and kicked the ladder from under him. Seymour fell heavily to the ground.
"I'll kill you, Devlin."
He rushed in, great hands seeking to destroy. Devlin jumped to one side and Seymour's weight and speed carried him into the tractor. Devlin his him twice in the stomach, and danced away as Seymour cried out in pain.
The fight was long and violent. Seymour was far stronger, but he was half-mad. Devlin was faster and more accurate. One last blow to the chin and Seymour fell and lay on his back.
"And now will you listen to me, you devil!" said Devlin. "Touch that girl again, harm her in any way, and I'll kill you. Understand? And in future, if you are in the room and I enter, you get up and walk out."
It was late evening when Devlin returned to Hobs End. He found Joanna Grey waiting for him.
"It's got to stop, Liam," she said.
"What has?"
"Molly Prior. You're not here for that. You've got a job to do."
It was a shame, Devlin decided after she had left, but perhaps Joanna Grey was right. He thought of Molly for one moment, then firmly locked the door and settled down with a book and his whisky.
When, later, he heard her calling softly, he kept on reading. After a while, Molly went away.
He swore softly, black fury in his heart. He felt suddenly lonelier than he had ever felt in his life.
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