The four men stood when Colonel Picot said, "Thank you, John, and you, George. I'll take David along to the Ambassador now so we can run through a few details." They shook hands and left.
"Would you care for coffee?" the Ambassador asked as he showed them to seats and pushed the button on his desk.
"Again, David, I must say how impressed my wife is with your Maria. She spoke long of her last night before we fell asleep and then again this morning. She wishes to have her assist with bringing form to the idea of treating wounded prisoners of war. I've asked Colonel Picot to investigate the logistics and ways we might approach the French and Germans– and our own government. May we have her assistance?"
"Maria's the one to answer that, but I would think it would be of great interest to her to be doing something for the war. She was talking about resuming her nursing training. She topped her class in Freiburg, and her two final papers are being published in the Baden medical journal. Is there a medical school here in Bern?"
"There's a very fine medical department at the university. In fact, a few years ago, one of the surgical professors, Doctor Kocher, was awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine."
"I'll discuss the idea with her. Being here, studying and working on a project such as this will absorb some of her seemingly limitless energy while I'm away."
"If she is willing, we have many spare rooms in our residence." The Ambassador shrugged. "I don't know why the Foreign Office insists on such large residences for us. I'm sure Edith would be delighted to have her with us."
They sipped their coffee and discussed other topics, then turned to military matters. "You'll be kept busy at Oxford," Picot said. "Among other things, we'll be arranging a private course in explosives engineering for you, so you'll miss some of the regular curriculum, mostly the sports and physical training. You'll need to act as though you're being excused for medical reasons from your wounds." He laughed. "From your appearance, you don't need the exercise, but you'll have to carry through the medical exemption theme with most physical activities for the duration of the course."
"It sounds as though this is a regular procedure."
"We wish to make it one. You're the first candidate we've had, so you'll need to bear with us as we invent procedures."
"One of my favourite activities – improvising and inventing new ways to do things."
"So we've seen," Grant Duff said as he glanced at the wall clock, then stood. "Will you and Maria join Edith and me for lunch before you drive back to Schaffhausen?"
"It would be our pleasure. We have plenty of time. We're stopping outside Zürich at our grandparent's home this evening. It's only a hundred and twenty kilometres, and I've been told the new road has a fine surface."
"A very easy road. Did you not take that road on your way here?"
David shook his head. "No, we drove through the lake country to Interlaken to spend time in the mountains."
"A splendid drive, that. I'll telephone Edith and confirm you'll join us for lunch. I'll arrange for my driver to pick you up at the hotel at twelve fifteen."
"That's a high-quality auto. It runs so silently, Maria thought it might be electric."
"No, it's gasoline. The motorcar has been superbly hand-crafted by Rolls Royce to a very high standard, and it's one of the several great examples of British craftsmanship we're showing off here."
"It runs so smoothly compared to our vehicle – an idea – since we have our vehicle at the hotel, we can drive ourselves. I'm sure I remember the route from last evening. This way we can be checked out from the hotel with no need to have them store our luggage."
"If you wish. Here, I'll sketch a map for you, just to be safe. It's really quite simple to find."
"Do we need to dress for lunch?"
"No, no ... it will be informal, only the four of us." He looked at the clock as he handed David a page with four lines, two words and a circle on it. "Colonel Picot will see you out now."
Picot bade farewell to David in the reception hall. "We'll remain in close contact. Don't concern yourself about how; just know it will happen."
"And the connection in London, will he have access to me also?"
"Most certainly. He's coordinating this."
As David walked back toward the hotel, his mind was filled with memories from some of the novels he had read. Joseph Conrad's The Secret Agent, Kipling's Kim, Childers' The Riddle of the Sands and The Scarlet Pimpernel. Forget who wrote that one. He shook his head. But this is reality, not fiction. Reality directed by unknown powers in high office behind the scenes.
He checked his watch as he entered the hotel. Five past ten. Wonder if she's back yet. At the desk, he was told Madam had picked up the key about five minutes earlier. He ran up the stairs three steps at a time and knocked on the door.
"Yes, who is it?"
"Your secret admirer."
She giggled as she opened the door. "Quick, we don't have much time. My husband's due back shortly."
He locked the door, and they merged in a tight embrace and a deep kiss. Then, as they separated and looked at each other, he smiled and said, "It will be quicker if we each undress ourselves."
As they lay cuddling half an hour later, he said, "Edith has invited us to lunch. She wants to discuss further the prisoner of war project. She'd love to have you work on it with her."
"I would love to work with her on that. Difficult, though, with me at Sonnenhang."
"The Ambassador – he asked us to call him Evelyn. He said they have spare rooms in their residence, and they'd be delighted to have you stay with them. There's an excellent medical department at the university. You could continue your training there."
"This sounds too good to be true. So, were these the deep, dark secrets you were keeping from me?"
"They were among the things we discussed. Did you find anything of interest in the shops?"
"You'll love what I found. Come take a look." She sat up and took his hand. "I've hung it in the closet." She led him to the door and opened it. "Your suit's in it. Look at the way it folds." She lifted the suit bag from the rod, laid it on the floor and folded it into a compact satchel. "Soft calfskin – feel the suppleness. I found it in a small shop by the münster, and I watched an old man for a long while as he worked on another. Look at all the pockets."
He picked her up and pulled her high on his chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and their mouths merged as she slowly slid down to sit on his erection as it rose to meet her cheeks. They continued the kiss.
As their mouths separated a while later, he said, "I meant for you to buy something for yourself."
"But this is for me. You're part of me. A huge part. You need a bag to pack your belongings into as you travel. The tailor's cloth suit bag seemed so inadequate." She wiggled her butt on his stiffness and squeezed her cheeks to it. "We need to deflate this thing again. Come, take me back to the bed."
YOU ARE READING
Missing
Ficción históricaIn the early months of the First World War, a young Canadian soldier uses quick thinking and ingenuity to evade capture after being wounded fighting in Flanders. While escaping through Germany to the Swiss border, he becomes intimately entwined with...