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Miles
Miles finished tying off a bandage and sat back on his heels. His patient was unconscious, having passed out when one of the attending doctors set his leg.
"You can deal with the rest of his injuries, can't you?" the doctor had said, and that was fair enough because there were many more serious casualties and trained medical staff were in short supply.
Miles rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands then looked about him. Dawn had come - some time - he had been too busy to notice. In the dark and confusion he had been shoulder-to-shoulder with Briers and the other men, carrying stretchers, helping restrain those patients who fought their rescuers, just generally doing what he could. Then better lights had been set up and one fellow, furious with the world, had commented that he didn't want to be handled by some queer. Miles had decided that discretion was the better part of valour and had joined the ladies. Assuming a traditionally feminine role in healing, nursing, and nurturing should deflect suspicion, and if not he'd have a discreet but public fit of the vapours to establish his credentials when time allowed. That would be easy enough. Even without that necessity, though, it had been hard to stop the tears falling.
He covered his face again, smearing it still further.
"Darling?"
He opened his eyes. A few paces away his mother was treating another patient. She held out her hand to draw his attention so he rocked up onto his feet and went to her.
"What can I do, Ma?" he asked. The patient was very still, what skin visible between bandages and bloodstains very pale.
"Nothing, he's gone to sleep." Ma reached for his hand and drew him down beside her. "I just wanted you near me."
Miles put his arm across her shoulders and held her close, the dense wool of her coat warming his chilled hands. An hour ago, or three, Briers had noticed that Miles was shivering and had insisted he wear his evening jacket. It was too big but warm and well made and smelled of pipe smoke and Briers. It was like an embrace and would do very well until he could get the real thing, but his hands were cold and his ribs ached like fury.
Ma sighed and nestled into his chest. "I want to sleep," she said. "Right here on the ground."
"I'd wait. They'll be back to move the last of the wounded soon, and then it will be our turn. We'll find somewhere more comfortable for you to rest."
Ma sighed again and her head moved a little. Miles knew she was looking towards that area, well away from where they were treating the survivors, where the less fortunate lay. So far there were eight neatly-tucked bundles, but Miles was sure the count would go up once the fires had been extinguished. Someone - Miles would lay money on it being Pritchard's idea - had covered them with the richly-coloured counterpanes from the sleeping berths, retaining the boiled white sheets for the injured. Practical and less eye catching, but also more - friendly. Amongst the bundles, so neatly tucked in, so unlike his usual cheerful sprawl, lay Nik Utkin. Miles closed his eyes.
Nik had almost made it, that great leap a calculated risk. They had rushed down expecting to find him cursing a broken ankle or cuts from the glass. He had looked surprised more than anything else. Certainly there was no trace of pain on his face. Both Falk and Briers agreed that he couldn't have known anything about it - a slip on the grass and the sheer bad luck of a large stone just where his head would strike it.
Sheer bad luck that wouldn't have happened if Miles had been a bit quicker on his feet and they hadn't all ignored the danger signs.
Ari was heartbroken.
"Darling, I think we need to move." Ma stirred. "The ambulances are back. Help me up?"
He supported her until she could get her feet under her, then let her brace a hand on his shoulder.
"I want tea," she said, stretching. "Well, a bathroom first, then tea and maybe ten hours sleep. Less painful knees would be nice too. That ground's hard. But I'll settle for a bathroom and tea, in that order, please."
"Your wish is my command." Briers ambled up, his once-white shirt now mottled with charcoal, blood and grass stains. His arm settled heavily across Miles's back and he drew Ma in for a hug as well. "Transport is being laid on as we speak, but one of the local officials is a Ruby Aston fan and has invited her whole party back to his house for refreshments while we wait. That includes us, in case you're wondering."
"How is she?" Miles asked. "Ruby, I mean."
"Upset," Briers said. "So's Janice. And Pritchard is looking after Ari, which is good. He's devastated."
Miles felt his throat tighten again. Then Briers changed his grip, tugging Miles's head down to his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. Not at all. Don't you think that. He was a lovely lad and we'll miss him, but he made the wrong choice."
"You can't say that," Ma protested. "It might be true, but you can't say that."
"Not in front of anyone else, but I can say it to you. Nik had time to grab the rope, but he thought he could jump to safety and so - damn, he nearly did it too. It wasn't your fault. I'm going to keep saying that until you believe it." Briers pressed a kiss to Miles's temple. "Now, let's go and find that tea ... and that bathroom."
#
The house belonged to one Mr Szarka, a gentleman with interests in business and a good taste in soft furnishings. The man treated them all with great kindness - and not just Ruby, either. They were offered a chance to wash, tea and coffee, food and comfortable rooms in which to rest, and bearing in mind he was a Ruby Aston fan he and his family were remarkably self-effacing.
"Please take your ease," he said to Ruby. "You will not be disturbed here."
Miles could have hugged him because they had already had a camera thrust into their faces as they'd disembarked from the ambulance that had brought them into the village. Briers had dealt with the photographer, tripping him up, confiscating the camera and promising he could have it back when they left. This was very good news for the photographer because Falk had been aiming for him, and it had taken both Pritchard and Miles to hold him back. The man wouldn't have got off with just muddy trousers if Falk had got hold of him.
Immediate needs seen to, they settled down to wait for their transport. Diana had been put to bed on a couch in the next room and Ma took a chair beside her, draped another blanket over her lap and said, "I would very much like to be left alone for a while if you don't mind?"
"Are you going to have a nap?" Miles asked.
Ma sipped the last of her tea then set the cup down. "I am." She offered her cheek for a kiss, then gave him a pat. "Off you trot."
Miles chuckled and closed the door carefully behind him. He went to Briers's side and sank carefully down onto a bench. "She's going to sleep," he said. "I'm jealous."
"You can doze off here, if you like," Briers offered, patting his lap. "I can't see anyone minding."
Miles glanced around the room. Ruby and Janice were on a day bed, curled up together under a blanket. Pritchard was talking to Ari and trying to persuade him to have something to eat. Falk was glaring out of a window with a tension in his shoulders that suggested he was planning a murder.
"Someone's coming," Falk said keeping his voice low so they didn't disturb Ruby and Janice.
"Smethwick?" Miles asked. He thought he'd caught a glimpse of him during the night but had other things on his mind at the time. "The man is a pain in the neck, but I do feel responsible for him."
"No. Police I think, and a man with a big watch chain on an even bigger belly. "
"Railway?" Briers suggested. "They must be frantic wondering how many more nasty little packages have been left on their lines."
"Good way to destabilise a regime," Falk muttered. "Then sweep in, ensure everyone thinks you made the trains run on time and be hailed as a saviour." He cracked the window and leaned close. "They are talking about communists and assuming a coup is in progress."
"They would have to be," Briers said. "It might not be the Reds, but they have to look at all possibilities. I don't think we should go back to Budapest. There were all the signs of trouble brewing. What do you think, Miles?"
"If it was just us... but I'd prefer not to have my mother in the thick of it."
"Do you think they'll let us go anywhere looking like this?" Falk indicated his own dishevelment. Ruby and Janice's bags had been brought from their compartment on the train so they had been able to change, and Ari had broken down completely when offered Nik's trunk as well as his own modest suitcase, but Miles and his mother were wearing clothes loaned by the Szarkas while their own were laundered, and Briers and Falk were in the filthy evening suits they had been wearing all through the rescue. "We need to get out of Hungary. I have contacts. I can get us a car and we'd be in Austria in four hours."
"They'll be rerouting the trains," Miles pointed out. "Foreign nationals have been attacked on Hungarian soil. They need to be seen to be in control of the situation. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if, in an hour or two, we couldn't catch a train from the next station down the line."
"True." Falk shrugged. "It wouldn't be fast or comfortable, but would anyone look for us on it?"
"And why would anyone be looking for you?" Ruby's voice was sharp. She raised herself up on one elbow and she looked anything but sleepy. Miles felt himself flushing at how easily they had been caught out. It was standard practice not to trust people who seemed to be asleep.
"Oh - bugger," Briers muttered. "Not again."
Ruby glared at them and continued. "Unless, of course, you're not who you say you are. A nice English family on their way home for a shopping spree and their Swiss businessman friend don't normally talk about destabilising regimes. God dammit." Her eyes filled with tears again. "Nik might not have been the sharpest knife in the silverware drawer but at least with him what you saw was what you got."
"Nik couldn't tell a lie to save his life," Ari said. "Even to keep himself out of jail. He thought the whole world was his friend and was surprised and disappointed if that turned out not to be the case. But he bounced back - always. God, I can't believe he's - " He touched an already crumpled handkerchief to his eyes. "He was my best friend and if you were in trouble he'd give you the shirt off his back if it would get you out of it."
"Exactly," Ruby said. "He was genuine, honest. Which is more than I can say for anyone else in this room. I want to know if what happened is your fault. Did the people who are looking for you cause this? Are these people who have taken us into their home in danger because of you?"
Janice shrugged Ruby off and sat up. "Grow up, Ruby. I know you're disappointed but there's no need to take it out on Mr and Mrs Carstairs. No, the question we should be asking is, are you in danger and what can we do to help?"
"But we deserve an explanation," Ruby added.
"You don't deserve anything," Falk growled. "Just as Nik and all the others killed and injured last night didn't deserve that."
"Falk." Miles and Briers spoke together both getting to their feet. Briers made a 'you deal with this' gesture to Miles and went to Falk's side.
Miles took a deep breath and turned back to Ruby. "You want honesty? All right. The fact is, we don't know, now, and we might never know who did it. I can tell you for sure that, in a few hours or days, the government here will announce that someone is to blame and arrests will be made. Those people arrested may be responsible but they may not. The tracks may have been bombed to kill us, or to kill someone else; there were a lot of rich people on the train. Someone might have thought 'why should they travel in luxury when I'm pushed to feed my children?' The person who did it might just have had some explosives to hand and wondered what would happen. They might just have liked big bangs. We don't know, and we regret what happened very much, but we still need to get to London as quickly as possible."
"So you're what? Spies?" Ruby looked him up and down critically. "Couldn't they afford anything better? Like a real girl, for instance."
"Hey!" Briers snapped, but stilled when Miles raised a hand. Ruby was young, had recently had a great shock, had lost a friend and needed to make someone suffer for it. Well - that person would not be Miles.
"That was really catty!" Miles said. "And if you behave like that in London theatres you'll find bits of costume inexplicably missing, or that your fleshings have been dusted with itching powder. Just because you're the - what was it, Briers? The cat's pyjamas?"
"Cat's pyjamas, the berries," Briers snarled, "completely darb."
"Cat's pyjamas, yes that's it. Yes, I'm a man. Feel free to tell me that you knew all along."
"That would be a lie because we didn't," Janice put in. She gave Ruby a sharp nudge with her elbow. "And I'm more interested in the other question. Are you a spy?"
"Yes, I am," Miles said. "A proper one. Most of the time I'm working with ciphers but I dress as a woman when required because men tend to underestimate women and that's a valuable advantage. Not being stunningly gorgeous is also an advantage too because people don't remember me. I get paid for it and everything. Silk stockings on expenses."
Briers put up his hand. "Me too! Only without the stockings."
Falk snorted and nodded. "And before you get bitchy about my friends here I'd just like to say that over the past few years they've probably saved more lives than people have watched your damned pictures. Probably - because that's something else we'll never know. Because if we do our job right nothing happens. We're anxious to make nothing happen again."
Ruby stared at him, her face falling. "I... I never looked at it that way. I thought it was all gun fights and daring escapes."
"We do that too sometimes," Miles admitted. "Less than a week ago my mother and I were being shot at by men with machine-guns and it's a lot less fun than you might think."
"But who are you? Really?" Ari said.
Pritchard slapped Ari on the shoulder. "My name is Pritchard, I am a gentleman's gentleman in the service of a well-respected diplomatic family."
"And we're currently travelling incognito for our health's sake," Miles added. "Can we leave it at that?"
"A diplomatic family?" Ruby frowned. "So that lady really is your mother?"
"Yes, she is."
"And Mr Carstairs is - what? You make a very convincing couple."
"As do you and Janice," Falk said. "Nik would have been a very good cover."
"How dare you - "
"Oh Ruby." Janice glared at her. "It's true. I didn't like it, but Ruby thought it would give us a bit more freedom and safety to have a man about the house. And Nik loved the idea. He thought it would be such fun. I'm sorry, Ari. I know you didn't like it either, but you'd have been so welcome to join us."
Ari eyed Miles and Briers unhappily. "Don't you think this is rather indiscreet?" he said.
"No." Falk's tone had gentled, Miles was relieved to hear. "We are all very much in the same boat. We could all do each other great harm. There is a lot of safety in that."
Briers gave Falk a friendly little shove then went to Miles and slung his arm back across his shoulders. "As you've probably guessed, we are partners. I've been serving my country in various aspects for the past ten years and great fun it has been when I haven't been running for my life or scared out of my wits."
"Not a long journey," Falk muttered. "I too am a spy but for a different organisation. These two men are allies for the moment. I have profound respect for their abilities and integrity, likewise for the ladies in the other room and for Mr Pritchard here."
"Why thank you, sir. Much appreciated."
"My pleasure, Pritchard, my pleasure."
"Was anyone on that train who they said they were?" Ruby asked.
Ari replied. The quiet desolation in his voice took all the tension from the room.
"No. No I'm not." He cast an unhappy glance at Miles. "I saw you'd noticed. I've been waiting for you to bring it up. To tell everyone."
"Dammit." Briers sat on the bench again and tugged on the back of Miles's borrowed skirt until Miles sat too. "Looks like I owe Miles half a crown. He bet me you didn't come from New Orleans. Where are you from then, Mr Lacroix?"
"It's not Lacroix." Ari had dropped the American accent instead opting for something much closer to home. "My name's Harry Cross. I'm from Whitechapel."
"Whitechapel." Miles gave him an admiring nod. "I would never have guessed that. You're ever so good. There were just a couple of tiny things that made me wonder."
"Tottenham," Briers said. "And that the Scala is a cinema now."
"Oh no, is it? That's too bad." Ari gave him a sad smile. "My given name really is Aristide - my grandpa was from Martinique. I'm going home; Ma hasn't been well, and Dad's foreman in a boot factory. He's had to let people go and some of them ... Well, I'll be giving them a hand. I learned piano from one of our lodgers, a man who had taught at a conservatory. I miss them all."
"But you will be playing, too?" Miles asked.
"If I can find somewhere, yes."
"I know someone who may be able to help," Pritchard said. "Come to supper one night - if you would like to, that is, and once your mother can bear to let you out of her sight again."
"That might be a while," Harry said. "I haven't been home in five years. Oh, she'd have loved Nik so much and he needed a family. There was - you know - nothing between us. He was just - he was my best friend. Best friend I've ever had."
#
Miles got the impression that Ruby had been blowing off steam, having got her energy back, and Ari's obvious misery put an end to her temper. In fact, when Briers pointed out that Miles had recently been injured in hand-to-hand combat with a man who had attempted to throw his mother off the train, her attitude changed even further.
"Oh come and lie down," she said and made room for him. "Janice and I don't mind."
"Are you sure Janice doesn't mind?" Miles asked.
Janice laughed. "Janice doesn't mind at all because Janice is getting up," she said. "I need to arrange for our baggage to be transported and see if I can find Jonah. Ari, dear, why don't you lie down for a bit, too? You must be exhausted."
"I won't sleep," Ari said. "Can I come and help?"
"If you like," Janice said. "But even if you don't sleep, lying down for a bit couldn't hurt."
"I'll help Janice," Briers promised. "Miles, love. Get some rest. The adrenaline must have worn off by now and those bruises must be hurting."
They were, and Miles let himself down onto the day bed with a creak of springs and a sigh of relief. After a moment Ari lay down too - and was still there, an hour later, when Miles woke up. Falk, in pristine linen and a grey suit of very conservative cut, nudged his foot again and offered his hand.
Miles moved with care for his sore ribs, levering up and away from Ari who didn't stir, and accepting Falk's hand to get to his feet.
"Thanks for waking me," Miles said. "What was it?"
"Briers managed to retrieve most of your baggage," Falk said. "He suggested I come in and wake you so you can wash and change. I put what you need plus a jug of hot water in the bathroom. A vehicle will fetch us this afternoon. Briers is still outside refereeing a furious row between Ruby and that appalling Rudd character. Rudd said he hopes she's learned her lesson and we had to stop her from braining him. Briers sent me in because I wanted to as well."
"He's not worth going to jail for," Miles said. "Come and talk to me?"
Miles went into the bathroom and poured out the hot water. He waited until the door was firmly closed before he said, "I'm sorry about Nik. You must have thought a lot of him."
Falk scowled. "Not at all. Well, yes, he was an attractive child - good-hearted as well - but it's Mr Lacroix - Cross - who caught my interest. I was looking forward to showing him where his best interests lay, because no matter how much he cared for Nik, Nik would never have reciprocated. But that was when the object of his desire was alive; I could compete with Nik, and I can't compete with his rose-tinted memory."
Miles considered for a moment. "I think you could. Really - unless you demand immediate results and, unless you just want a fast conquest, then to forget it, there's something to be said for getting to know someone, learning to trust them. Why not stick around? You said you needed to get out from under your new counter-intelligence chief's thumb."
Falk drew his lips down. "Heydrich is an ass, so yes. But this cover is not ideal," he said. "Jan Favre wouldn't sit well in Whitechapel - although I might be able to find someone who would."
"How about being Falk for a change?"
"That would be a considerable change. Would you sponsor me?" Falk asked. "Your people must have a need for reliable eyes in contentious places."
"They would probably prefer you as close to Heydrich as possible," Miles said. "But yes, I'd sponsor you. Briers would probably tell me not to - but I think that I can trust you. You've been a good friend, Falk."
Falk snorted. "I have been looking out for my own best interests. Keeping you and your lady mother alive is just a happy accident. Are you going to let me watch you take your clothes off? Or is that another thing Briers would disapprove of?"
"Oh, he'd definitely disapprove," Miles said and grinned. "Just on principle though. He's never struck me as the jealous type."
"In that case... " Falk leaned against the door jamb and watched as Miles stripped down to his underwear then opened the bundle. Briers had been very thorough, thank goodness. Miles stooped to run his hands up his calves and heard Falk clear his throat. Miles grinned but kept his expression neutral when he straightened up. As he touched his top lip, he could just see Falk in the mirror. Falk was eyeing his behind, well set off by his rather racy pale blue camiknickers.
"I think my legs will do, don't you? But do I need to shave my face?" Miles mused and was delighted to see a slight reddening in Falk's cheeks as he met Miles's eyes in the mirror.
"You look very smooth to me," Falk said.
"Better safe than sorry." Miles poured water into a bowl and reached for brush and soap to lather his face.
"And how is the long distance relationship going?" Falk asked.
"Briers and I meet when we can - three or four times a year, usually, even if it's only for a few days - and we correspond regularly." The razor blade whispered against his soapy chin. "But I do miss him."
"I'm sure he misses you too," Falk said. "I hope you are not making unreasonable demands on him."
"Unreasonable demands?" Miles recalled their Swiss holiday and Briers's suggestion on the fourth night that they just go to sleep, dammit. "We have the occasional snap and bristle. What relationship doesn't have its ups and downs."
"That wasn't what I meant." Falk was frowning. "I was referring to our business. That it is not reasonable to - "
"To expect Briers to be faithful? Oh, good Lord no." Miles paused while he did his top lip. "Do you really think I'm that naive? Briers is a professional spy, and that implies all kinds of duties above and beyond doing the filing. I appreciate his dedication to his job. I have a considerable amount of it myself."
"And it doesn't gall that he expects you to be true to him?"
"He doesn't, Falk." Miles put the razor down before turning. "I just choose to be so, apart from evenings out with several excellent young women of my acquaintance who can be counted upon for good company with no expectations of more. He has never asked me to be celibate - and I'm at a bit of a loss to understand why it's any of your business."
Falk smirked. "It's because I find you both endlessly fascinating," he said. "I think I will see if Ari is awake."
When Miles emerged from the bathroom, feeling much better in a crisp navy woollen frock, Falk was in the living room where Ari was chatting to Ma and Diana, who had a lot more colour in her cheeks. Ari looked a lot better too. He had both hands around a cup of coffee and managed a small smile for Miles when he greeted him.
"Where is everyone else?" Miles asked.
"Ruby and Janice are still battling with Mr Rudd," Ma said. She came to him and touched his cheek. "If Ruby had that sword she wielded so expertly in The Outlaw of Nottingham, Mr Rudd would be in several pieces by now. Cynthia ffoulkes-Collinson is there too, enjoying the drama. Her young man is with Briers. They expressed an intention to go back to the crash site and see what they can do until our transport arrives."
Miles wanted to do that. He wanted to step into the space at Briers side - there would be a space left for him, he had no doubt of that - and do what he could, but in daylight he supposed he should make himself useful elsewhere. "I would like some fresh air," he said. "Just to clear my head."
"We'll stay here." Diana shot his mother a meaningful look. "Just in case John turns up."
"Oh yes," Miles felt awful for not having spared Smethwick a thought since he woke up. "In fact I think I will go and see if I can spot him."
"I'll come with you," Falk volunteered.
The air outside was fresh and surprisingly warm. Miles realised his expectations had been coloured by the hours he had spent on his knees in the dark, labouring over the injured and chilled, by the knowledge of how close he and Ma and Briers had been to death. Now the sky was blue behind a scatter of clouds, and when he stepped into a patch of sunlight it felt like a blessing.
"You aren't really going to tramp around looking for Smethwick, are you?" Falk demanded.
"He is a valued employee of my father," Miles said. "And if one borrows something it is only good manners to return it in good condition. I won't go far."
"In that case I will go and join Briers." Falk checked his watch. "It is nearly eleven o'clock. I will ensure we are back by two."
"Very well, but if our vehicle arrives early I'll come and find you. Just - tell Briers... " He tried to think of a message that could be passed on safely, but Falk just smiled at him. This was not a derisive grin or a smirk or any of the other borderline insulting facial expressions Falk had levelled at him; this was a real smile and - well, Miles could see how Briers had fallen, and fallen hard.
"I know," Falk said. "He's the moon and stars to you. So I'll tell him you want to know where the heck he is. He'll understand."
Miles chuckled. "That will do nicely. Thank you Falk."
Miles watched him walk away, his long rangy stride fast, and wasn't surprised when he looked back, just before he turned a corner. He wasn't looking at Miles but up at the corner room of the Szarka house where Ari was being comforted by Ma and Diana.
"Well, there's food for thought," Miles muttered.
The street was quite busy with concerned locals mingling with rescuers and the passengers who had been able to walk away from the wreck. Miles didn't try to speak to anyone, knowing the value of eavesdropping. In this way he gathered that some of the more important people had already been taken back to Budapest so that their journey could proceed by other means. This included Miss Baker. He had never been lucky enough to see her perform on stage but she had done a lot to help last night, the warmth and humour of her voice singing saucy French music hall songs drawing in the walking wounded, keeping them calm and showing the rescuers where to go. "Next time we're in Paris... " he promised himself.
Outside a church he heard that communists were definitely to blame for the train crash. Near an inn, that it was bandits disappointed when the railway wouldn't pay a ransom. By the bridge over a stream, boys threw stones into the water and said they had heard that a deadly plot by some foreign power was afoot. Miles made mental notes of what he heard, and who said it, to pass on to Naylor. He was just about to go back into the house when he heard another voice speaking softly in the local accent.
"Come on, sir. You can't stay there. At the very least let me call you a doctor." The response was just a mutter. "I don't understand you. Come on, sir. Please get up."
Miles thought the reply been in English. Miles knew that Smethwick was reasonably fluent in Romanian, but didn't recall that he had any other Eastern European languages in his repertoire. It had to be worth a look.
Down the side of the building was a lean to shed and Mr Szarka was peering inside it.
"Hello," Miles said. "Is there a problem?"
"I do not think so," Mr Szarka said. "I found this gentleman in my shed and he is reluctant to come out."
"Is he hurt?"
"I don't think so." Szarka touched the side of his head. "Not his body."
"Oh?" Miles stepped around the corner of the shed. "Oh, Mr Smethwick!"
Smethwick glanced up at him. He was seated on a bucket with his back to a wall stacked with logs and had a filthy handkerchief tight in one hand. He didn't look as though he was injured, but his face was pale and damp and his eyes were red.
"Come to gloat, have you?" he asked.
"No." Miles came a little closer. "We've been concerned about you. I thought I saw you just before dawn, but then I lost track - I imagine we were both busy. I hope they found you something to eat?"
Smethwick looked away and shook his head. "No, I've only just got here." His voice was hoarse, scratchy. He sounded as though he had spent the whole night crying.
Miles nodded. "It was a terrible thing, but I think you should come inside now. Diana was asking about you. So was my mother."
"They are both - "
"Unharmed. Well, Diana's arm is broken - but it's been treated, and she was drinking tea and happy enough when I last saw her. Ma and I both have black eyes. We were lucky."
"You have no idea how lucky." Smethwick sighed. He applied the handkerchief to his forehead and Miles caught a faint whiff of vomit.
"There's a vehicle of some kind coming for us," he said. "We have a couple of hours. Enough time for you to clean up a bit, have something to eat and put Ma and Diana's minds to rest."
"Rest." Smethwick drew in a deep breath then looked at Miles with some of his old air of impatience. Miles offered a hand to pull him to his feet and he scowled. "I don't need your help, thank you very much."
That was a relief, much more like his normal demeanour. Miles took a couple of paces back and pointed along the lane. "To the right then," he said. "And right again. Mr Szarka has been incredibly kind."
Hearing his name, Szarka bowed a little and made a gesture of welcome. Smethwick swayed on his feet, but at least he followed their host around the corner and into the house. Miles stayed outside, but still heard Diana's shout.
"John! Where have you been? We were worried sick!"
Miles bit his lip. Smethwick had been a stick-in-the-mud and generally dismissive and unhelpful, but what had Miles expected? Someone of Smethwick's generation and upbringing would be bound to find Miles unsavoury at best and dangerous to the well-being of the embassy at worst. That, however, was no excuse for Miles having ignored or forgotten him; every family had a curmudgeonly uncle who could be counted on to say the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment, but they still invited the miserable old goat to weddings.
And it seemed as though Smethwick hadn't just absented himself because he was 'checking perimeters' - a favourite excuse - but due to a nervous attack of some kind. If so, Miles felt great sympathy for him.
"Right, that's it! Mrs Carstairs!" Ruby was marching towards him with Janice hurrying along behind her. "I've decided on a change of plan. I'm not going to Paris, I'm going straight to London."
"The shops are just as good," Miles said. She looked formidable. Beautifully presented and dressed as ever, but the mass of hair she had forced into a bun was doing its best to break free and she had a martial glint in her eye. "What's brought this on?"
"Rudd," she snarled. "Some nonsense about contracts and appearing at premieres. I can do that just as well in England as I can in Hollywood."
"Isn't breaking a contract both hard and very expensive? I'm sure I read about - "
"If you don't have any money it's both." Janice grinned at Ruby. "But if you're rich and you don't give a fig about 'you'll never work in this town again' it's very much easier."
"Rich?" Miles looked Ruby up and down. "I would never have believed that you were poor."
Ruby snorted then glanced at Miles with a very slight air of shame. "You weren't the only one who's not what they make themselves out to be. My name's not Ruby Aston."
"I never thought it was. What kind of monster would name their red-headed child Ruby?"
"The studio thought Ruby Aston would fit more easily on the posters and be more memorable than Maeve Shaughnessy." Janice said. "And I think she looks like a Ruby."
"As in 'Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above - '?" Miles asked.
"Ruby's, yes." Janice giggled and nodded.
"Well, who's feeling cheeky?" Ruby gave Janice a gentle poke. "You should never believe what our press offices say. All the Shaughnessy ranch grew was scrub and rattlesnakes and a few scrawny cows, until the day my grandpappy discovered we had oil, so Rudd better not mess with me. We're going back to Budapest and I'm going to charter a plane."
"A plane? An aeroplane? Can - can you do that?"
"Well I'm sure as hell not walking to London and," Ruby touched the darkened skin under Miles's eye, "I don't know about you, but I'd sooner never get on a train again."
Miles followed her into the house, feeling that she had a point.