Doris

I nodded again.

"But we have been unable to trace her, they used code-names and suchlike, it's very difficult. Anyway, I have taken advice, and we have decided to say that there is no conclusive proof of any other claim on the bequest. May I repeat my congratulations."

"Oh, Darling, that's so wonderful." Simone sprung from her chair, knocking over the suitcase beside it. She ran round behind the lawyer, who was sitting between us, and hugged and kissed me. She was her old delightful self again, or so it seemed.

The lawyer coughed to try to get us back to the matters in hand. Simone did not sit down, but stood beside me with her arm across my shoulder.

"I think that will be all, Sir. We will be in touch in due course. Do you wish to pay our fees yourself, or shall we take them from Mrs' Coulter's estate."

I think that I agreed to the latter.

"Your package Madam?"

I was in a daze. What had changed Simone? She had almost forgotten her precious case in her hurry to leave the office.

"How much money have you got?

"Well, you heard the man?"

"No, in your pocket. Now."

"A couple of quid, perhaps." I rarely carried more.

"Quick then."

She dragged me across the road to the bank we used. It was just about to close.

"He wants to withdraw..." she paused, "say, er, Fifty pounds."

"Does Sir want to withdraw fifty pounds from his account."

The clerk was looking at me in an amused way. One of his eyebrows twitched. Simone tittered.

"Um." I looked at Simone. She nodded at me in an exaggerated way. "Yes, I do." Even if it was about half our savings.

The clerk filled in a form, I signed it. I received a stack of banknotes.

She dragged me from the bank, and down towards... Oh, No. She couldn't could she? She did.

She marched me into the Police station. The desk Sergeant greeted Simone by name.

"Is he in?" she asked, gesturing towards my bosses office.

The Sergeant nodded. Simone knocked. I groaned. The Sergeant looked amused.

"Come."

She opened the door. My legs were lead. My boss had an acid tongue, and old fashioned ideas about a wife's behaviour.

"Yes? What is it?" He spoke to me.

Simone spoke to him.

"My Philip needs a couple of days off. Is that all right."

He looked over the top of his spectacles at me.

"You want a couple of days off?"

"Yes Sir, apparently."

Oh God. I realised that I should not have said that. He was going to have some fun with that 'apparently'. I started to blush.

"What is it? Have you got a few jobs around the house for him? Iron some blouses perhaps? Run you up a skirt or two?"

"Well Sir." I tried to staunch his flow.. "Is it all right?"

Actually, he had been pressing me to take some of my holiday allowance, but I had been reluctant because of the atmosphere at home.

He grinned. It was the grin that we had learned to fear. The grin that said that he was about to enjoy someone else's discomfort. If we were lucky the victim would be in one of the cells. More often than not, it would be one of us, one of his 'Boys in Blue' as he delighted in calling us. It was the way he emphasised the word 'boys'; boys that should be wearing short trousers it seemed.

"Actually, Madam, I think that I may just might be able to spare him from police duties if your tasks for him are more urgent."

"Thank you,"

Shit. She was looking at the plaque on his desk.

"Thank you, " she paused. "Claude?"

She said 'Claude' as in, 'I am sure that you do not mind me calling you Claude, do you.'

I pulled her from the room trying to avoid the grin that was singing my back.

"Going so soon?" asked the Desk Sergeant.

"Yes. He's given me a couple of days off. See you."

She now had me in tow again. Outside the police station she looked around as if to get her bearings.

"Give me some money."

I took out my wallet, and she removed some notes.

"You go in there and buy a bottle of champagne."

She directed me towards the towns poshest wine merchant. It is not true to say that I had never been in there before, because I had helped to investigate a robbery from there. Just a few bottles of wine had been taken, but the value? Phew!

I think that the assistant recognised me from then. He treated me as a person, and dropped his usual airs and graces. I emerged with what he assured me was a good but mid-priced bottle, and also, my own idea, a couple of their prominently displayed champagne glasses.

"Quick. On the bus. They are delivering tonight."

On the way home we looked in the folder the lawyer had given us.

Top Secret

Report on the Escape of Pilot Officer Coulter and Agent Francine

Pilot Officer Coulter was shot down on mission codename [deleted] drop supplies to the French Resistance on 30 October. He sustained an injury to his leg that made immediate escape impossible but was rescued by

[Here a long section had been blanked out.]

[Start of a new page]

and he and Agent Francine gained entry into a Luftwaffe base. The alarm was raised, and searchers discovered them in an air-raid shelter, but mistook them, apparently believing them to be one of their own soldiers who was copulating with a local girl.

Pilot Officer Coulter later located and gained access to an aircraft. He and Agent Francine started the engines and took off, although the aircraft did sustain some damage from small-arms fire at this time.

The aircraft was flown at low-level across Northern France and over the Channel. It was successfully navigated back to Pilot Officer Coulter's home base at [deleted] where he attempted a landing.

An Anti-Aircraft battery identified the Luftwaffe aircraft, and fired on it causing more damage, and causing the pilot to abort his landing approach.

Losing power, he then made a forced landing near the [deleted] research facility at grid reference [deleted]. Pilot and passenger were taken into custody by guards and interrogated. They had no means of identification. They were wearing Luftwaffe overalls.

Pilot Officer Coulter later died during interrogation as a result of the injuries caused by the anti-aircraft fire and the landing.

[Another long deleted section.]

Pilot Officer Coulter is to receive a posthumous [deleted] His family is to believe he died in the original incident.

Agent Francine was found to be with child, and is

[deleted section]

to France

[Signature deleted]

It was difficult to read in the poorly lit bus.

Simone was more subdued as we got off the bus. She carried her brown-paper package, I, the folder and the bag containing the wine into our home. We had only just taken our coats off when the delivery men arrived. Simone shooed me upstairs, and told me not to look out of the window. I heard the furniture being moved about. I heard their van drive away.

"Come down Darling."

I did. There was a new piece of furniture beside the kitchen door, but it was covered by a sheet. I could not identify it.

"Fish and Chips all right for tea?" she asked me.

"Well yes, but we could get something in the pub?" It had started doing some meals in the evening as an experiment. I didn't think it would catch on.

"No, Love, we are staying in tonight."

"Ok then."

The Chip shop seemed so normal after the strange day we had been having. I returned with the hot food in its vinegary newspapers.

When I returned I found the fire lit, She had also unwrapped her suitcase. It was on the table, unlatched, but its lid was closed.

We sat eating out of the newspapers. We were ravenous. We had hardly eaten all day. I think we had both been nervous about the lawyer. We became playful, stealing each others chips, and then, as we relaxed, feeding scraps of the fish to each other. We screwed up the newspapers and threw them onto the fire where they burned furiously for a minute or two.

"Go get the wine."

In the kitchen I rinsed and dried the new glasses. I put them, and the bottle on the tray. I carried it through. Simone was standing in front of the suitcase.

"Open it."

I managed to open the champagne without spilling too much.

"To the future."

"To the future."

Clink. Sip. Sip.

"Philip, I'm so sorry. I was so scared. I was afraid that the lawyer would have found out."

"What do you mean."

"Sit down, Drink your wine, and look at this."

I sat. She came over carrying a bundle.

"See."

She put a gold ring in my hand.

"Doris's?"

"Yes."

She placed another there.

"Look inside. Look at the inscription."

In the first I could see some indentations, but they were well worn, unreadable.

Inside the second I could make out "Doris and Phi..."

"Now this."

It was a piece of thin, grey painted, distorted metal. It had an identification plate on it. The writing was Germanic.

She then held up the bulk of the bundle. It unfolded to become a pair of grey overalls . Again, there was Germanic lettering on it.

"And this."

It was a marriage license. It was her mother and fathers.

"Look at the date."

I calculated.

"If they knew all this they would have separated us."

I looked dazed. She had thought of little else since she had seen Doris's ring and the photograph. It was dawning on me now.

"We're sisters." I realised what I had said. "I mean we are brother and sister."

"Half brother and sister."

"But we're married."

"Yes, and I love you so much. We've got away with it."

She picked up the bottle and refilled my glass, and then her own.

I realised that I had forgotten to say something.

"Its a bit late, love, but happy birthday."

"I'd forgotten as well. I'd been so worried."

"It was a year ago, wasn't it."

"Yes." She raised her glass. "Doris."

Clink.

"Doris. You know we didn't celebrate your birthday then, either."

We kissed. We sat and sipped, deep in our own thoughts.

She drained the last mouthful from her glass, and stood up. She went to the window and fiddled with the curtains. Then she started unbuttoning her dress.

A question came to me.

"Why the holiday?"

For this. She was half undressed

"And you!" She started to pull off my tie. I had got the idea.

She went across to the new furniture, pulled off the sheet that covered it, then threw cushions from the chairs onto the hearthrug, and covered them with the sheet.

Then she went back to it. While I struggled with trousers and was unsighted by shirt and vest, she fiddled with something. Paper rustled. Something clicked, buzzed and clattered.

With one bra, and two pairs of pants we merged and collapsed into a kissing cuddling heap on the sheet. I tugged at her bra-strap. She tore my underpants. She lifted her bum, and I removed her pants. Then I removed the remains of my own.

"For the last year we've had no time for each other. We now have two days to make up for it."

"Two days, and the rest of our lives."

Things progressed.

"Careful, Love. We have to be careful."

She rummaged, and gave me a condom to put on.

The new furniture had warmed up, and the sounds of an organist playing Bach came from the long playing record. We weren't listening.

A couple of condoms later she stood up.

"There's another thing to show you."

She took an envelope from her mother's suitcase.

"This was in there, addressed to me." She read,

"Dear Simone,

I hope you will find this after my death. I'm sorry if I was a poor mother to you. My life has not been easy.

About your Father, or the man you call your father. He is nothing to you. Have no care for him. I married him for only one reason.

I had promised myself that I would devote the rest of my life to punishing the man who killed your real father. He was injured. He was a hero. The man I married, interrogated him and it killed him.

I think his life since has been miserable.

I feel so sorry for you my sweet child..

Mum"

Then she handed me a photograph and a medal. The medal was engraved with the name FRANCINE. The photograph showed my fathers face, the same face as in Doris's photograph, but now it was scarred, the eyes were shut, and it was in a coffin.