Official Report
British Intelligence
Code: 3986
Kathleen Winfred
The next morning, I lay in bed for a few moments before getting up. I simply stared at the ceiling and relived my birthday, still feeling overwhelmingly happy.
I sighed, and got out of bed, preparing for my day, accepting the fact that everything was now back to normal.
Pirot came back to the door, her hair still wet. I remembered that it was her day to shower. She smiled. "Happy day after your birthday, Ilsa," she said, grinning.
I smiled back, feeling warm and happy all over again.
"Thank you for the party, Pirot," I said. "I realize that I didn't get a chance to say thank you yesterday."
Pirot smiled, taking her towel and beginning to dry her hair. "I'm glad you had a good birthday."
I frowned, for a moment, suddenly thinking of something. I looked up at Pirot, slowly. "Not that it matters but..." I paused, shrugging. "I don't remember telling you when my birthday was."
"You didn't," she said, winking. "But I have my sources."
YOU ARE READING
Winfred
Historical FictionThe Women's Guard, The Soldier, The Nazi, The Spy. The Spy turned Prisoner. As they say, dead men (or women, as the case may be) tell no tales. But Kathleen Winfred isn't dead; she managed to escape. Now, the story of her capture by Nazis in occup...
