Free Season of Darkness by Maureen Jennings

have to be very careful. This stupid girl’s death could really upset everything
.

11.
    T HE MAJOR WENT OFF TO SUPERVISE THE SEARCH .
    “Why don’t you take a break, Mrs. Devereau? It might be best for the internees to deal with this among themselves. We’ll be all right for now.”
    “Thank you, Major.” Clare turned to Tyler. “Shall we take a quick run into Whitchurch for a bite to eat? I’m famished.”
    “Sounds good to me.”
    “How about our old pub? They used to have the greatest cider.”
    “Are you referring to The Feathers?”
    “Yes, the one on Main Street. We went there lots of times for their cider.”
    “I’ve become a beer man myself. But let’s give it a try. I can recommend the pork pies.”
    “I’ll follow you in my car.”
    “You’d better go first. The Humber isn’t exactly speedy.”
    He soon lost sight of the MG and must have fallen behind by at least five minutes when he arrived at The Feathers. She was waiting for him at the entrance.
    “Come on, slow poke. I’ve already ordered our ciders, and I’ve got us our favourite spot. The booth by the window. The place hasn’t changed a bit.”
    Tyler had almost convinced himself that Clare had no interest in connecting with their shared past, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Our old pub, we went there lots of times
 … The strange thing was that instead of making him happy that he wasn’t the only one obsessing about the past, the turnaroundwas confusing. Maybe he’d been a policeman too long. You developed a suspicious nature.
    He followed her through the smoky lounge, aware of the curious glances thrown in their direction. Even at forty, Clare turned heads.
    She slid into the booth and he sat opposite.
    “They changed the upholstery,” she said. “It was brown before.”
    “After twenty years, I think they should. That’s a long time.”
    The publican, who was also one of his football mates, came over immediately with two glasses of cider.
    “The pork pies’ll be ready in a minute.”
    As he was leaving, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, but Tyler ignored him.
    Clare lifted her glass. “Cheers, Tom.”
    “Cheers.” They clicked glasses and their eyes met. Even in the low light of the pub, he could see how green her eyes were, how friendly they appeared.
    He took out his cigarette case, snapped it open, and offered her a cigarette.
    She shook her head. “No, thanks, I gave up smoking years ago.” She noticed the silver case. “Didn’t I give you that for your coming of age birthday?”
    “One and the same.”
    He didn’t tell her he had only begun carrying it again after they met in the market.
    She grimaced. “Twenty-one. Were we ever that young, Tom?”
    He lit his cigarette. “Young and foolish. But here we are in 1940. Why don’t you bring me up to date on the last twenty years?”
    “Do you want the short version or the long version?”
    “I thought you only had an hour.”
    “Short version then.” She started to run her finger around the rim of the glass. He could see she was choosing her words carefully. “Two years after I left here, I met a Swiss man, Valentin Devereau. I’d known him casually when I was at school in Lucerne. We married and I have lived in Switzerland ever since, really. Shortly before war broke out, I decided to return to England – I told you that already. I still consider this my home. I knew my fluency in German might come in useful and it has. I was hired as a translator with the War Office. Then the big sweep occurred and eventually I was sent up here to Shropshire. That’s it. Life up to date.”
    He was keenly aware that she hadn’t mentioned falling in love with her husband or how she felt about being separated from him.
    “Any children?”
    “No. All right. Your turn.”
    Frank returned with the pork pies and mash, both covered with steaming gravy.
    “Tuck in.”
    Clare started on her meal, eating with gusto. He smiled at her.
    “What? Why are you laughing at