Denison turned and saw McCready trailing about half a mile behind. He, too, appeared to have stopped and Denison thought he was doing a search with field glasses and not just to look at the view. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder then, as far as McCready was concerned, this view would be bleak indeed. There were far too many places for a man or even a regiment to hide.
Denison hitched his pack to a more comfortable position and set off again, keeping up a fast pace so as to catch up with the others. He drew abreast of Lyn, and said, Its lucky no one took a crack at us when we were leaving Kevo. I was so woozy I wouldnt have been much help.
Lyn looked at him worriedly. How are you feeling now?
Fine, he said lightly. I feel a lot better now I can remember things. This morning I remembered the name of the man in the flat above mine; Paterson a nice chap.
And you remember being a film director?
Yes. He laughed. Dont run away with the idea that I was one of your big-time movie moguls my stuff wasnt shown in the West End. I make educational films mostly. He frowned. Or, at least, I did. I was fired from my job.
Dont worry about that, Giles, she said quietly.
Im not worrying; I have more important things on my mind at the moment. All the same, he said, looking into his past. I dont seem to have been a nice character.
There was violence in her voice. Forget it! she said crossly.
He glanced at her face in profile. You worry about me, dont you? There was a tinge of wonder in his voice; it had been a long time since anyone had worried about what happened to him. All Fortescue had worried about was whether the job would get done he hadnt given a damn about Denison himself.
What do you expect me to do? Cheer when you get slugged on the head? She walked on a few more paces. You should never have agreed to this mad scheme.
Carey talked me into it hes a very persuasive man. But you talked yourself into it. Nobody asked you to come. Now why did you do that?
She offered him a wan smile. You know, youre rather like Hamlet; you let yourself be pushed around.
He grinned. Ah, the fair Ophelia.
Dont class me with that damned ninny, she snapped. Im not going to go mad in white satin. But I still think that if Hamlet had had someone to give him advice, to put some backbone into him, things would have turned out differently. As it was, all he had was that wet, Horatio.
He felt suddenly depressed. Are you offering to supply backbone?
All Im saying is that you mustnt depend on this gang of Whitehall thugs. Dont believe everything Carey tells you. Hes in business for himself, not you. She seemed angry.
He was silent for a while. You could be right, he said at last. I have no illusions about this job. I know I was thrown into it involuntarily but I carried on of my own will and with my eyes open. I know Im being used and I dont particularly like it. At the time when Carey put the proposition I was mixed up, to say the least, and I dare say Carey took advantage. I dont blame him for it I was all he had.
But youre becoming better, said Lyn. Youll be getting ready to make your own decisions.
Well see, said Denison thoughtfully. Well see. He hitched the pack on his back. When do we get to this hut?
They pressed on late that night because Diana wanted to reach the hut. No point in staying in the open when we can have a roof over our heads, she said. Travelling late was no problem; the light never left the sky and they were able to move as fast at midnight as at midday and they saw the hut at two in the morning.
It was built of birch logs and was bigger than they had expected. It was in the form of a letter H, wings having been added as was necessary. The living quarters were in the cross-bar of the H and they were glad to divest themselves of the heavy packs. The two women began to prepare a meal and sent the men to get water.
Harding and Denison took buckets and went outside, and Harding stopped just outside the hut and looked across the marsh which seemed to consist of reeds and water for as far as the eye could see. Good wildfowling country, he said appreciatively.
Denison slapped at his neck. Good mosquito country, he grumbled.
Dont worry; theyre not malarial.
You mean Im merely being eaten alive? Denison slapped at himself again. Lets get the water.
They went down to the waters edge and Harding inspected it critically. It looks all right; but wed better boil it to make sure. They filled the buckets and then Harding straightened. I wonder what that is.
Denison followed the direction of his gaze and saw a low wooden hut on the waters edge about a hundred yards away. A sauna probably. The Finns like to have them on the edge of the water so they can jump right in. You wont catch me in there.
It doesnt look tall enough to be a sauna, said Harding. The roofs too low. I think Ill take a look.
The girls will be screaming for water.
I wont be a minute. Harding walked away following the shore line, and Denison shrugged. He picked up a full bucket and took it up to the main hut. Upon being told there was an insufficiency of water he went back for the other bucket. Harding called, Denison; look what Ive found.
Denison walked towards the little hut and thought Harding was probably right the roof was so low that there would be barely sitting room in the hut, let alone standing room. He walked around it and found Harding squatting on his heels. What is it?
Its a gun punt, said Harding. Havent seen one for years.
From this side Denison could see that the hut consisted of roof only and was merely a shelter over a flat boat which looked like an enlarged Eskimo kayak. So?
Harding shook with laughter. Mannermaa told us not to bring a shotgun, and all the time he had this here. The old devil!
Denison bent down beside Harding. I dont see whats funny.
You wouldnt. I bet the gun is up at the hut. Ill have to see if I can find it. Harding pointed to the foredeck of the punt. Look there; thats where the breech ropes go.
Denison looked at the two eyebolts they told him nothing. Youre not being very comprehensible.
I dont suppose I am. These things have gone out of fashion. There are a couple still in use on the east coast back at home, but I didnt expect to see one in Finland. Youll understand better when you see the gun, if I can find it. Harding stood up. Lets go back.
They went back to the hut, taking the second bucket of water. On the way they encountered McCready who was just coming in. He seemed tired and depressed. Not a sign of anyone, he said. But thats not surprising. He waved a hand at the marsh. How deep would you say that water is?
Not very deep, said Harding. Not at the edges, anyway. Two or three feet, perhaps.
McCready nodded. You could hide a bloody army in those reeds, he said glumly. Whats for supper?
Denison smiled slightly. Ill lay you ten to one its bully beef stew.
Thats not very funny, said McCready as he went into the hut.
After he had eaten McCready felt better. It had not been bully beef for once and, with his belly full, he felt sleepy. He glanced at the bunks in the corner of the room where Diana and Lyn were already asleep, huddled in their sleeping bags. Well, here we are right in the middle of the bullseye, he said. I suppose someone should keep watch.
You get some sleep, said Denison. Ill toss with Harding as to who takes first watch.
Where is he?
Looking around for some kind of gun.
McCready came alert. A gun?
Something to do with a boat he found. Hes a wildfowler, you know. He didnt make much sense.
Oh, a sporting gun. McCready lost interest. He stretched for the coffee pot, refilled his cup and then produced a flask. He laced the coffee with whisky and offered the flask to Denison. Want some?
No, thanks.
Lost the taste for it?
Seems so.
McCready put away the flask and sipped his coffee. You can keep watch from the hut, he said. Take a turn outside once every half-hour and keep an eye on the hillside. Not that it matters but it would be nice to have warning of anyone coming.
Theyll come?
If not today then tomorrow. We give them what they want and maybe theyll go away. Maybe. He shrugged. Im not getting killed for the sake of a scrap of paper that doesnt mean a damned thing. Anyway, weve got her to think about. He nodded towards the bunk where Lyn lay asleep.
Nice of you to be so considerate, said Denison.
Dont be so bloody snippy, said McCready without rancour. We didnt ask her to come she forced it. He stretched. Im going to bed.
Denison picked up the binoculars. Ill do a check outside.
He went out of the hut and looked around, studying the hillside through the glasses, especially in the direction from which they had come. There was nothing to be seen. Next he turned his attention to the marsh. A long way out there were dots on an open stretch of water which, through the glasses, proved to be birds. They were unmoving and apparently asleep. Too big to be ducks they were, perhaps, geese. Harding might know. Not that it made any difference.
After a while he went back into the hut, moving quietly so as not to wake anybody. Harding had just come back; he beckoned to Denison and said in a low voice, Ive found it and look! He opened the palm of his hand and revealed a dozen small copper cylinders rather like .22 cartridge cases without the bullets.
What are they?
Detonators, said Harding. I cant find any powder, though. Come and have a look at the gun.
All right, said Denison. It was something to do until he had to go outside again.
He went with Harding into a room at the side of the hut which was used as a store. Rolled up netting hung neatly on pegs on the wall, and there were a lot of boxes which had been pulled away from the wall, presumably by Harding.
I found it behind there, said Harding. Not so much hidden as concealed from casual eyes. I knew it must be somewhere around because of the punt.
Denison had not the faintest idea of what Harding was talking about but he obligingly stepped forward and looked behind the boxes. At first he did not realize what he was looking at; Harding had said something about a gun for a punt and that was what he expected to find a shotgun to kill ducks. What he saw was something unexpected. True, it was a shotgun, as he realized as soon as his mind had shifted gear, but it was a shotgun of Brobdingnagian proportions.