Cold Harbour by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online Page B

Craig stayed there, then got up, found a robe and went and sat by the window looking out at the high-walled garden. The nurse came back with a pot of tea on a tray.
    “I hope you don’t mind, Major. We don’t have any coffee.”
    “That’s okay,” he told her. “Do you have any cigarettes?”
    “You shouldn’t really, sir,” she hesitated then took a packet of Player’s from her pocket and some matches. “Don’t tell Dr. Baum where they came from.”
    “You’re a honey,” Craig kissed her hand. “First night out I’ll take you to Rainbow Corner in Piccadilly. Best cup of coffee in London and great swing to dance to.”
    She blushed and went out, laughing. He sat there, smoking, staring into the garden, and after a while there was a knock at the door and Jack Carter limped in, a stick in one hand, a briefcase in the other.
    “Hello, Craig.”
    Craig, truly delighted to see him, stood up. “Jack—how bloody marvellous after all this time. So, you still work for that old sod.”
    “Oh, yes.” Carter sat down and opened the briefcase. “Dr. Baum says you’re much better?”
    “So I hear.”
    “Good. The Brigadier would like you to do a job for him, if you feel up to it, that is.”
    “Already? What’s he trying to do? Kill me off?”
    Carter raised a hand. “Please, Craig, hear me out. It’s not good, this one. This friend of yours, Anne-Marie Trevaunce?”
    Craig paused, a cigarette to his lips. “What about her?”
    “The Brigadier needed to see her face-to-face. Something very big is coming up. Very big.”
    Craig lit his cigarette. “Isn’t it always?”
    “No, this time, it really is of supreme importance, Craig. Anyway, a Lysander pick-up was arranged to bring her out and I’m afraid things went very badly wrong.” He passed a file across. “See for yourself.”
    Craig went to the window seat, opened the file and started to read. After a while, he closed it, great pain on his face.
    Carter said, “I’m sorry. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”
    “About as bad as it could be. A horror story.”
    He sat there thinking of Anne-Marie, the lipsticked mouth, the arrogance, the good legs in the dark stockings, the constant cigarette. So damned irritating and so bloody marvellous and now . . . ?
    Carter said, “Did you know of the existence of this twin sister, this Genevieve Trevaunce in England?”
    “No.” Craig handed back the file. “She was never mentioned in all the time I knew Anne-Marie, even in the old days. I knew there was an English father. She once told me Trevaunce was a Cornish name, but I always thought he was dead.”
    “Not at all. He’s a doctor. Lives in Cornwall. North Cornwall. A village called St. Martin.”
    “And the daughter? This Genevieve?”
    “She’s a Staff Nurse here in London at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. She was recently rather ill with influenza. She’s on extended sick leave staying with her father at St. Martin.”
    “So?” Craig said.
    “The Brigadier would like you to go and see her.” Carter took a large white envelope from his briefcase and passed it across. “This will explain just how important it is that you help us out on this one.”
    Craig opened the envelope, took out the typed letter and began to read it slowly.

chapter four

    Just behind the village of St. Martin there was a hill, a strange place with no name that was marked on the maps as probably having been some kind of Roman-British fort in ancient times. It was Genevieve Trevaunce’s favourite place. From its crest she could sit and look out across the estuary to where the surf washed in over treacherous shoals, only the seabirds to keep her company.
    She had climbed up there after breakfast for what was to be the last time. On the previous evening, she had reluctantly faced up to the fact that she was well again and those raids on London, according to the BBC news, had intensified. They would need everyone they could get on the casualty wards at Bart’s now.
    It