A Matter of Honor

“Wish I could take you there myself,” said Jim. “Do anything to help an old soldier, but I’m a bit stuck tonight—of all nights.”

“Don’t give it a second thought, Jim, I’ll be all right.”

“I could always take him, Dad,” said Linda, who had slipped up by her father’s side and was listening intently.

They both turned toward Linda, who was wearing a tight-fitting black crepe dress that started as low and ended as high as it dared. Her freshly washed hair now fell to her shoulders. She looked up hopefully.

“You’ve only just got your license, lass. Don’t be daft.”

“You always treat me like a child when there’s something worthwhile to do,” came back the immediate response.

Jim hesitated. “How far is this rendezvous?” he asked apprehensively.

“About five, maybe six miles,” said Adam, “but I’ll be fine. I can get a taxi easily.”

“The lass is right,” said Jim, and taking his car keys out of his pocket, he turned to her and added, “but if you ever let on to your mother, I’ll kill you.” Jim took Adam by the hand and shook it furiously.

“But I’ll be just fine …”

“I won’t hear of it, lad. Never forget that in the end we’re both on the same side. And good luck.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Adam reluctantly.

Jim beamed. “You’d better be getting along, lass, before your mother shows up.”

Linda happily took Adam by the hand and led him away to the parking lot.

“Which direction?” she asked, once they were seated in the car.

“The Auxerre road,” said Adam, looking down at the piece of paper on which he had written the directions Lawrence had read over the phone to him.

Linda set off at a slow pace, seeming at first to be unsure of the car, but once they had reached the outskirts of the town, Adam suggested that she might go a little faster.

“I’m very nervous,” she said, as she put her hand on Adam’s knee.

“Yes, I can tell you are,” said Adam, crossing his legs quickly. “Don’t miss the turning,” he added when he noticed a signpost pointing to the left.

Linda swung down off the A road on to a country lane while Adam kept his eyes peeled for the building Lawrence had described. It was another two miles before it came into sight.

“Draw into the side,” said Adam, “and turn the lights off.”

“At last,” said Linda, sounding more hopeful, as she stopped the car.

“Thank you very much,” said Adam, as he touched the door handle.

“Is that all I get for risking life and limb?” asked Linda.

“I wouldn’t want you to be late for the dinner.”

“That dinner will be about as exciting as a dance at the Young Conservatives.”

“But your mother will be worried about you.”

“Dudley, you’re so uptight.”

“I wouldn’t be in normal circumstances, but if you stay much longer your life could be in danger,” Adam said quietly.

Linda turned ashen. “You’re not joking, are you?”