“I don’t know. Tarkowski was not very forthcoming. He said Ziggy had asked a question about the finances of the Polish government in exile.”
Some of the ducks were now wandering up to Sonia in hope of further food. “I only met Ziggy once or twice. A gloomy fellow. Jan said he was good fun, but I couldn’t see it myself.”
“There was a family picture in his room. He had a brother who Jan said he wouldn’t talk about.”
“Yes, I remember him mentioning that. Some sort of craftsman, he said.”
“Looks like he told you more than Jan. Must be that pretty face that loosened his mouth.”
Merlin reached up to stroke Sonia’s cheek and smiled. Sonia pulled her head away sharply. “Don’t, Frank. The poor man’s dead.”
“Sorry, my dear.”
Sonia turned back to him and put her arms around his shoulders. “No, I am sorry, my darling. I don’t know why I reacted like that. It just seems that death is everywhere around us. I try to keep your English stiff upper lip, but sometimes…”
Merlin hugged her tight then planted his lips on hers. They held their embrace until a park warden approached them, making loud tutting noises.
Merlin stood up and pulled her to her feet. “I have to go and see my miserable brother now, Sonia. You are welcome to come, but it’s not going to help cheer you up.”
Sonia withdrew a handkerchief from her handbag and wiped her nose. “No, darling. Thank you, but I said I’d do the afternoon shift at the shop today. Will I see you tonight?”
“I am not sure. I am going to pop into the Yard after I’ve seen Charlie – I’ll call you from there. Oh, by the way, there’s a classical concert on at St Martin’s Lane tomorrow. Handel, I think. Shall we?”
Sonia nodded enthusiastically before kissing him on the cheek and hurrying away towards the park gate.
*
“Como te va, Carlos?” Charlie Merlin, or Carlos Merino as he had been christened, glanced at his brother from the wheelchair in a corner of the room by the fireplace. The brothers shook hands and Frank took the chair on the other side of the fireplace and attempted a hearty cheerfulness he did not feel.
“Where are Beatrice and the boy?”
“They just nipped out to the local shop to get something. Biscuits for you, I should think.”
“Ah. Do you need anything while we are waiting?”
“A spare leg would come in handy.”
Merlin sighed. He hoped that his sister-in-law and nephew’s trip was a brief one.
“Sorry, Frank. I just can’t help myself.” A small tear tracked its way down his left cheek.
“Oh, Charlie.” A squall of rain thumped suddenly against the back window and they both held their breath for a moment, then smiled.
“I guess if the weather’s bad our German friends might find the Channel a bit of a handful. Any insights at the Yard as to Hitler’s plans?”
“Nothing that you don’t know or guess, I should think. He and Goering hope to pummel us into submission in the air, then sweep in and take over. There are reports everywhere of troops and ships massing off France. As far as I can see, the RAF are doing a great job, but how long can they keep it up?”
“Just so. Not much longer, I’d say, but then my outlook on everything is pessimistic now. Let’s change the subject.” Charlie raised his good leg in front of him and moved it from side to side.
“You know the annoying thing is that sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I can feel the leg that’s missing. I begin to think for a moment that by some miracle its grown back.” He lowered his leg and helped himself to a cigarette from a packet on a small table by his side.
“Still off the weed, are you Frank?”
“Yes.”
Charlie lit up and blew a cigarette circle in the air. “Any interesting jobs on?”
“I’m on one concerning a missing Polish pilot at the moment.” Merlin proceeded to summarise the case to his brother, ending with the enquiries made of Tarkowski about Polish government finances.
“I had some dealings regarding Poland when I was working at the bank before the war.”