The next time Devlin entered the Studley Arms, Arthur Seymour looked at him dully, stood up without a word and walked out.The same happened at church the following Sunday. Seymour showed no emotion at all when Devlin came in, but simply got to his feet and slipped out.
Devlin waited, watching Molly. After a while she turned very slowly, looked at him for a long moment, then turned away again.
Afterwards, Devlin went out quickly and waited for her outside the church. But when Molly came out with her mother she ignored him completely.
"Ah, well, now," Devlin told himself. "And who would blame her?"
It was raining heavily when he reached the cottage. But he went out again. The gates needed checking, and walking in the heavy rain was just the way to take his mind off things.
It didn't work. He couldn't get Molly out of his thoughts. "If this is what love is really like, Liam my boy," he said softly, "you've taken one hell of a long time finding out about it."
When he returned to the cottage, he smelt cooking. She was by the fire, putting on another log.
"You'll be wet through," she said.
"Half an hour in front of that fire and a couple of whiskies inside me and I'll be fine."
She handed him a glass and the bottle of whisky. "Your supper'll be ready in half an hour. All right?"
"Fine."
"What went wrong, Liam? Why did you keep out of the way?"
"I had my reasons."
She reached out hesitantly and touched his hair. He siezed her hand and kissed it. "I love you," he said. "You know that?"
She glowed, as if a lamp had been switched on inside her. "Thank God for that. At least I can go to bed now with a clear conscience."
"I'm bad for you, girl dear. There's no future in it, I warn you. There should be a notice above that bedroom door. Abandon hope all you who enter here."
"We'll see about that," she said. "I'll get your supper." And she moved across to the stove.
Later, lying in the old bed, an arm about her, he felt more content, more at peace with himself than he had done for years.
She sighed, eyes closed. "That was lovely. Can we do it again sometime?"
"Would you give a fellow time to catch his breath?"
She smiled and moved closer to him. "What's going to happen to us, Liam? When the war's over?"
"God knows."
He lay there wondering, while Molly slept. After the war was over. Which war? He'd been fighting one way or another for twelve years now. How could he tell her that? It was a nice little farm, too - and they needed a man. God, the pity of it. He held her close and the wind blew about the old house, shaking the windows.
Father Philip Vereker was the priest at Studley Constable. A tall, thin man of thirty, he had been with the army until he had lost a leg. A year later he still suffered great pain from the wound. And he still badly missed the army.
So he was proud of his younger sister Pamela, who was in the women's Air Force. She had just been posted near Studley Constable.
She was spending the weekend with her brother. On Saturday she went for a long ride on horseback. After racing across open land, she entered a wood. There was a tree across the path, which the horse jumped easily. But as it landed, a figure leapt out of the bushes. Startled, the horse stopped suddenly, and Pamela was thrown to the ground. For a moment she lay there, eyes closed. Then she became aware of voices. She opened her eyes to see a ring of soldiers surrounding her.
"You all right, miss?" asked one of them. The voice was American.
"Who are you?" she said.
"Sergeant Garvey, Twenty-first Special Raiding Force, American Army. We're at Meltham House near here for two weeks' field training."
A car arrived at that moment. "What's going on here?" demanded the driver.
"Lady got thrown from her horse, Major." Garvey replied. "Krukowski jumped out of the bushes at the wrong moment."
"Major," she thought, surprised at his youth.
She stood up. "I'm all right."
But she half fell and the Major took her arm. "I don't think you are. You'd better come and see our medical officer."
It was a nice voice. It made her feel quite breathless. She was happy to do exactly as she was told.
After the medical officer had declared Pamela fit, the Major spent an hour showing her over the grounds of Meltham House. She enjoyed herself: Major Harry Kane was excellent company.
As they approached the house itself, and officer came out. Kane introduced them. "Colonel Shafto, allow me to present Miss Vereker."
Colonel Robert Shafto was a handsome, proud-looking man, full of restless energy.
"I was very sorry to hear of your accident, Miss Vereker," he said. "Is there anything I can do to make up for the carelessness of my men?"
"That's most kind of you," she said. "Major Kane has offered to drive me back to Studley Constable, if you can spare him."
Shafto bowed. "The least we can do. See she gets there safely, Harry."
"Were you impressed by the Colonel?" Kane asked her as they drove back.
"I'm not sure," she said. "He certainly looks very energetic."
"He's that, all right," said Kane. "Shafto is what is known in the army as a fighting soldier. All action and courage, but he doesn't use his head. And he can't take orders from anybody."
The same afternoon, Joanna Grey drove to Hobs End and found Devlin in the barn working on the motor cycle.
"I've been trying to get hold of you all week," she said. "Where have you been?"
"Around," he told her cheerfully. "Having a look at the countryside."
"So I've heard," she said angrily. "With Molly Prior. I told you to leave her alone."
"I tried. It didn't work. Anyway, what did you want? I'm busy."
"American soldiers have moved into Meltham House," she said.
"I see. Should it make any difference?"
"Not really. They're unlikely to come near here. It's a factor to be considered, that's all."
"Well," Devlin said. "let Radl know about it and there's your duty done. Now I must get on. I need this motor cycle in perfect order by this evening, to go and collect the lorry."
As Joanna Grey drove away, Molly rode up with a basket.
"I've brought you some supper."
"You're a dear. But is'll have to wait. I've got to go out tonight. A cup of tea's what I neednow, woman of the house."
She went into the cottage and put the basket on the table. Devlin's bag was at the other end. As she moved, she caught it with her arm, knocking it to the floor. Packets of banknotes fell out, and the parts of the Sten gun.
She knelt there, sunddenly icy cold. There was a step in the doorway and Devlin said quietly, "Would you put them back now, like a good girl?"
"What is it? What does it mean?"
"Nothing for little girls." Devlin put the money and the gun parts back in the bag, and closed it. Then he opened the cupboard, took out a large packet and threw it to her.
"Is the size right?"
She opened the packet. "Silk stockings," she said in delight. "Real silk. Where on earth did you get these?"
"Oh, you can get anything you want if you know where to look."
"The black market," she said, relieved. "Is that what you're mixed up in?"
He smiled. "The right colour for me."
"Liam, it's all right, isn't it?"
"And why wouldn't it be?" He kissed her quickly and went back to the motor cycle.
But it wasn't all right for Molly, he knew. For the first time he understood what he was doing to her. Her whole world was about to be turned upside down. And he would have to leave her to bear the hurt of it alone. Suddenly he hated himself.
It was after midnignt when Devlin returned from collecting the lorry. The next morning he rode over to tell Joanna Grey that they now had all the transport they would need.
"All we have to do now is wait for the next five days," he said. "And drink to our success."
Joanna Grey filled two glasses and raised hers. "God bless you, Liam, and long life."
"And you, my love."
They drank. Suddenly Devlin knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that the whole thing was going to go as wrong as it possibly could.
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