'What the hell does that mean?'

'Well, you might not like this one.' He gave a shy smile.

The knot in my stomach got colder.

'Why? Is it a bastard?'

'Oh I don't mean that, old horse. Anyway, the thing is you're here physically and all you have to do now is go home and get a good night's zizz.' He leaned forward to look at a pad on his desk. 'Tomorrow they're running a film show for you at — '

It would've been quicker to pull out Smythe and Bickersteth, wouldn't it?'

'Much.'

'Someone wants me particularly for this one.'

He smiled boyishly.

'That's right.'

'Who?'

'Not absolutely sure. Tell you in the morning.'

'Is there a director lined up?'

'Sort of.'

'Who?'

'They haven't told me. Honestly. Or I'd tell you, wouldn't I?'

'If it suited you.'

'That's the way we do things, isn't it? We don't like you people to have too much on your mind. Gives you indigestion. Now why don't you just buzz off and — '

'Where's this film show?'

'Air Ministry. Nine ack-emma manana — will you be there?'

'All right.'

'Room 43, Squadron-leader Eastlake. Code-intro's «Birdseye», okay? Then you can tootle back here and I'll give you the rest and you can get cleared.'

I stood watching his smooth cherub's face for a bit and thought again about what he'd said — you might not like this one- and then got it out of my mind and picked up the trenchcoat and slung it round my shoulders because it was too stinking hot to put it on.

'What's the area?'

I think you'll need tropical kit.'

'Oh my God.'

It's a shame,' he smiled amiably, 'in winter they send you to Warsaw, don't they?'

'Why did they want me for this one, specially?'