Bouncer's Butcherbird: A Special Operations military adventure (Gus Beaumont Aviation Thrillers Book 3) by Tony Rea

Author:Tony Rea [Rea, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Gus and Bunty met in Hastings, because she didn’t want to spend the day in London and he thought the seaside would be nicer. He arrived at ten-thirty and waited for her at the station. Bunty’s train was running a little late, getting in at five to eleven. She wasn’t up to bounding off the train and along the platform, the way she used to. Instead, Bunty walked slowly towards Gus, and he waved when he saw her.

“You look lovely,” he said, admiring her floral summer dress. “How are you?”

“I’m doing just fine, Gus,” she replied. “Shall we walk along the prom?”

They did as she suggested. Gus was anxious; he knew he had to sort things out with Bunty, but he didn’t know how to raise the subject of their relationship. He valued her friendship and hoped she might feel the same way. Their former desire for each other seemed to have faded. This shift had nothing to do with Bunty’s injuries; it had been caused solely by his feelings for Eunice.

After a light lunch at a café on the seafront, they found an isolated promenade seat. Gus glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“How’s the work going, Bunty?”

“Good, thanks. Within a month of being interviewed by your friend Peacock…”

“He’s not really my friend.”

“Well, what is he?”

“He’s my senior officer. He was a friend of my father. I first met him in Oxford, before the war. I just happened to bump into him in the Turf Tavern, though now I think it was a set-up. Anyway, I’ve done some little jobs for him since then.”

“Little jobs?”

“You know — espionage.”

“Anyway, as I was saying,” continued Bunty, “within a month I passed the relevant selection exercises and began training at Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire.”

“Sounds nice.”

“There’s an old mansion there, but most of us don’t work in the big house. It’s surrounded by temporary cabins. You know the sort: cold in winter, hot in summer, and always dark and dismal. That’s where most of the work goes on.”

Gus nodded.

“The conditions are pretty bloody poor, actually. Long hours, and sometimes it gets a bit … over-pressured. I’m in digs with two other girls in Whaddon — that’s a small village a few miles away. Mrs Fletcher is our landlady, but she doesn’t really want us there, I don’t think. There’s no inside loo, Bouncer. We have to go out into the back yard. But I shouldn’t complain. There’s a war on, you know.”

“And what is it you’re doing there, precisely?” asked Gus.

“You know I can’t discuss that, Gus.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve both signed the Official Secrets Act.”

“Yes. And it prevents me telling you anything about what I do there.”

“But you can tell me if you’re typing, filing, or making the tea.”

Bunty considered this for a few seconds. “I send and receive Morse code messages.”

“Messages to agents?”

“Look, Gus,” said Bunty, “if I tell you what goes on at Bletchley then you must promise to keep it a secret. Do you understand? It’s more than my life is worth if any of this gets out.

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