'Don't push me, Eve,' Harker said, shoving back his chair and standing in one abrupt movement. He needed to get out of here, before he hurt someone. But Eve leapt to her feet too.

'Why not?' she said. 'Why bloody not? Someone has to. Everyone else here is subordinate to you, they have to follow your orders, for right or wrong, and not argue with you. But I'm not one of your men, and I don't have to follow your orders, and I'm sure as hell not sitting around letting you brood and sulk'

'I am not sulking!' Harker shouted.

'You bloody well are, and it's not good enough! And you can glare all you like at me, I'm not going to run away like Frederick because you know what? I'm not scared of you.'

'You bloody ought to be,' Harker snarled.

'Oh yeah? Why? Because you look like a vagrant and you've got a good line in glowering? Oooh. I'm scared. What're you going to do to me? I'm a damn prisoner. You've locked me away and lied to me and coerced me and made me walk for a week through boggy fens and you never tell me what the hell is going on, or thank me, and at the end of this, even if I help you out and get you your stupid computer and make it work and win you the war, then what are you going to do? Put me back in that prison-that's-not-a-prison, while you take all the glory and probably get a promotion or something else shiny and wonderful you can pretend you don't care about.'

She was breathing hard now, her cheeks pink, and there was nothing else in the room but the two of them, and he wanted to shake her, because she was being so stupid and so blind and she was driving him bloody crazy 'So, yeah, when you say "don't push me", why the hell not? What are you going to do to me?'

The pistol was suddenly in Harker's hand. He stared at it, finally understanding what drove men to hit women.

'Oh, right,' Eve said, a new edge in her voice. 'You're going to shoot me. Fine.' She kicked her chair out of the way, stomped around and faced him, grabbed his wrist and aimed the gun at her own head. 'Go on, then. Bloody shoot me.'

For a long second, an endless long second, the rest of the world went blurry and all he could see was Eve, in sharp relief, so close and so angry.

I've got to stop fighting with her, my head's going to explode, he thought.

And then, I wonder if she fights like that in bed?

And then, She'd let me shoot her, she actually would.

'You are crazy,' he muttered.

'Yes,' she said. 'I am.' Her eyes locked on his. 'Or I'm dreaming this, or it's a parallel universe. In which case I ought to be trying to get home but you know what? There's not even anything for me there. I've got nothing.'

She was right up against him now, toe to toe, touching him only at his wrist but nearly pressed against him everywhere else. Nearly.

'I don't care,' she said, honesty making her voice soft. 'I don't.'

In her eyes he saw the reckless light of desperation, and remembered that the most dangerous people in the world were the ones with nothing to lose.

She doesn't have anything. You're treating her like a prisoner.

Damn, she's pretty.

'I'm not going to shoot you,' he said, relaxing his hold on the gun. 'Let go of my wrist.'

A second passed but it lasted for eternity, and then the pressure of her fingers lessened. Harker kept his eyes on hers, and she eventually dropped her hand.

He exhaled.

'Sir,' said someone, Charlie he thought, and suddenly the room was full of people again.

Eve twisted from him, bright eyes turning away, and stumbled towards the door.

'Eve,' he said, and she flinched.

'I violently dislike you,' she said, and then she was gone, slamming through the door and leaving a sort of shocked silence behind.

Right. Excellent.

'Still worried?' he said to Charlie, but she didn't seem to find that very funny. If anything, she looked more concerned than ever. He lit up a cigarette, daring the cook to say a word. Wisely, she didn't.

Chapter Fifteen.

I violently dislike you.

Wind whipped rain against him, hard and stinging, freezing his face and his fingers. Harker could have sheltered inside the car while he waited for Banks, but he needed the cold to numb some of the hot anger inside him.

And guilt. And shame.

Mad. Or a spy.

She could get in the way of everything, everything he and the army were fighting for, and yet instead of worrying about the mission he was worrying about Eve. Even now, Banks was inside the city, purloining papers for the squad, and Harker stood in the cold rain and wind, thinking about Eve. How hurt she looked. How lost.

A parallel universe. She was crazy! She ought to be in an asylum. Either that, or back with the Coalitionists, where she belonged. Because all that could have been a masterful performance to convince him she was harmless, so he wouldn't suspect her of being a traitor ...

Harker wiped his hand across his eyes. He couldn't even convince himself he even half-believed that any more. Not Eve. Mad, perhaps, infuriating definitely, but not a traitor.

A familiar shape ambled along the road towards him, and Harker shook himself, getting back inside the car.

'Got them?' he asked Banks, who grinned as he climbed inside the car's shelter.

'Candy from a baby,' he said, displaying a sheaf of papers. 'Shouldn't be hard to alter. Oi, sir, you want to be a Mister Shipley? Teacher at a school in a village. Farnley, it says.'

Harker nodded. Farnley. They'd driven past a turning to it, and he set off back that way. No harm in doing his research.

Farnley was a depressing place, a sorry collection of cottages servicing the local colliery. The buildings were black with soot, and so were the people. The only building of any size was the school, which he guessed probably served a lot of the surrounding villages.

He parked the car outside the village and walked in. Depressed-looking kids huddled in the gloomy school playground. It was mid-afternoon, and by Harker's guess the kids were probably waiting for their parents to pick them up.

He frowned. One of the kids had a shock of bright red hair, and something about her was familiar 'Hell of a place,' said Banks, shivering in his thin coat.

'Yeah,' said Harker, watching the little girl. She was a skinny thing, maybe eleven or twelve. Maybe a little older. Hard to tell. But she had oddly dark eyes, and Harker had only ever known one other person with that strange combination.

'I want to thank you, Sarge'

And she had a very slight limp. It couldn't be anyone else.

The girl was playing a skipping game with her friends, who patiently made allowances for her lack of co-ordination. She wore a pinafore and thick tights, but Harker was almost sure that had it been summer, he'd have been able to see the faded scars on her legs.

He nearly called out to her, but before he could even remember her name, the little girl scampered away from her friends towards a group of women approaching the school gates.

One of them was Mary. She had a scarf tied over her pale hair, but she could have shaved herself bald and Harker would still recognise her.

She smiled when she saw her daughter, leaned down and hugged her tight. But he saw her flinch when one of the other kids brushed her accidentally.

'Sir?' said Banks quietly. Harker had completely forgotten him. 'Who is she?'

He watched Mary talking to her red-haired daughter, smiling, animation erasing some of the tiredness in her face. It was good to see her smile. He hadn't seen it in ... hell, twelve years.

Not since Sholt.

'Mary White,' he said, and Mary glanced towards his voice.

And went still.

'Sarge,' she whispered, and he nodded, and she rushed over, dragging her daughter behind her. 'Is it you? Sergeant Harker!'

Harker put his finger to his lips, and she nodded. 'Perhaps we can have a chat, Mary?'

She nodded again, glancing briefly at Banks, who gave her a smile full of curiosity.

'You stop here,' Harker told him, 'keep an eye on things. Mister Banks.'

Banks's eyes narrowed at the Mister, but he nodded and stayed where he was. Harker looked back at Mary, gripping her daughter's hand tight, and said, 'Maybe a walk, Mary? In full sight, where everyone can see us?'

'Of course,' she said. 'Around the square?'

They set off, Mary still holding her daughter's hand. 'I'm so sorry,' Harker said to the little girl, 'I just can't remember your name.'

'Emily,' Mary said. 'Emmy, most of the time.'

'Emmy. Of course. She's so like her father.'

Mary gave a tight nod. Harker waited to see if anything else was forthcoming, then said, 'I didn't know you'd come north. Last I heard you were down in the west.'

She gave a brief smile. 'Oh, we've been here a few years. When Sal and Smiggy do you remember Smiggy, Private Miggles? And his wife Sal, she was always very kind to me. He was born here, you see.'

'Is that why you came up here? Because Smiggy and Sal came?'

'Yes. All the others had left or ... or been transferred' most likely killed, thought Harker, who'd kept track of some of his men 'and Sal always said they were going to come back north when Smiggy's time was up, and it was quiet and ... well, I didn't have anywhere else. And there was work in Leeds, Smiggy's family said. I do work for a tailor there.'

Harker closed his eyes guiltily. 'I'm sorry, Mary, I should have kept in touch' he began, but she shook her head fiercely.

'No, Sergeant Harker. Don't you ever be sorry. You did more than you ever needed to, for me and for Emmy. Smiggy told me how you sent money for us back when when Emmy was a baby. And I never thanked you for it.'

'You don't have to,' said Harker, who still felt bad that he'd stopped sending the money when Mary had become too hard to track down.

'You fought for us, Sergeant, and I'll never forget it,' Mary said.

Harker didn't say anything. Yes, he'd fought for them, but not hard enough. If he'd fought hard enough, James might still be alive and Sholt, with any justice, would have faced a firing squad.

'Oh!' said Mary, apropos nothing. 'I'm so sorry.'

'For what, Mary?'

'I've been calling you Sergeant, only Smiggy told me how you'd been promoted, got your commission, sir.'

'You don't have to call me sir,' Harker said gently. 'James never did.'

'No. He called you Sarge.' She smiled distantly. 'I remember that, he said Sarge was a great man.'

No, Harker thought, a great man would never have let it all happen in the first place.

He hesitated, then figured if he could trust anybody, it'd be Mary. After all, she trusted him, which in itself was a miracle. 'Mary, you might be able to help me with something ...'

By the time he went back to Private Banks, who was sharing a cigarette with a couple of miners, he'd got what he wanted. Banks, somewhat reluctantly, gave up his cigarette, and walked with Harker back to the car.

'Sir?' he said, after a minute or two.

'The wife of one of my men,' Harker said, because he knew what Banks was going to ask.

'Ah. I didn't recognise her,' Banks fished.

'No. He served under me when I was still a sergeant in the 17th. You wouldn't've known him.'

'Wouldn't've?' Banks said. 'Is he ... not serving any more?'

'No,' Harker said, and when he blinked, just for that split second he saw James White's flayed and broken body. 'No, he isn't.'

Eve had intended to spend the day lurking in the chilly and unused sunroom at the back of the house, judging correctly that no one would be using it at this time of year, but even in that she was thwarted.

Charlie sniffed her out, and like the good guard dog she was, warned Eve off her beloved Major.

'He's a senior officer, promoted from the ranks in an army where promotion is purchased,' she said calmly. 'If he were to get involved with a spy he would lose his commission.'

It took a short while for this to sink in to Eve's brain. Firstly, that Charlie thought she was a spy, which she knew was one of the squad's theories about her. But then she realised why she was being warned. Charlie didn't want Harker to get involved with a spy with her.

She opened her mouth, but she wasn't sure what to protest about first.

'I know there's no proof against you,' Charlie said. 'But there's not much to prove your innocence, either. I'm sorry, Eve. My first duty is to the army. My second is to my friends. Harker falls into both categories. He is the closest thing I have to family, and I won't see him hurt. Not professionally and not personally.'

Eve gaped.

'I'm asking you, please, for the sake of everyone's sanity, to just stop winding him up. We'd all appreciate it. And stop' she broke off, as if she couldn't find the appropriate words.

'I am not interested in Major Harker,' Eve said flatly.