If it’s only one, then I think he would pick Elise, his daughter. But I can ask Greta and—’
‘You cannot speak of this to Greta!’ Diedre cried sharply. ‘I just told you that, Cecily! No one can know. The choice will have to be made at the last moment. Please say you understand what a tough thing this is to do. And dangerous.’
‘Yes, I do, I’m sorry, Diedre, if I’m sounding stupid.’
‘You’re not, and I know you don’t realize what the situation is like in Berlin. The Gestapo are everywhere, and the SS, and everyone is under suspicion. I’m sorry I snapped at you, but someone will have to do this for me, and it could cost them their lives if they are caught.’
Cecily had turned pale. She nodded. ‘I wasn’t making light of it. I realize what a serious matter this is.’
Diedre reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘Secrecy is imperative. Nothing can be said to Daphne or anyone else when you get to Zurich. You do know that?’
‘I do. It’s between the two of us. I will never betray you.’ Cecily clenched her fist and stretched out her arm. ‘Loyalty binds me,’ she said.
Diedre did the same, and put her clenched hand on top of Cecily’s. ‘Loyalty binds me,’ she repeated.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,
Jack jump over the candlestick.
Old English nursery rhyme
Daphne had fallen in love with the Villa Fleurir on Lake Zurich the first time she saw it, just over twenty-four years ago. Hugo had taken her to Paris for their honeymoon and then they had travelled on to Switzerland where they had stayed for some time.
The villa was spacious, with large rooms flowing into each other, and all of the colours used were soft, muted: cream and white, pale pink and peach, and the lightest of blues.
It was an airy and welcoming place; there was a certain informality about the house and its furnishings which Daphne had never changed, loving its sense of ease and comfort.
Mellow antiques were placed here and there in most of the rooms, intermingled with large, comfortable sofas and chairs covered in lovely fabrics, and there were beautiful paintings on the walls. All these furnishings enhanced the rooms, gave them a certain familiar look, but the villa was by no means decorated in a full-blown traditional style, which frequently looked far too stiff to Daphne.
Its informality had led her to create a more casual way of living over the years, especially after more of their children had been born, and everyone loved staying at the villa – be it in summer or winter – because of this. Cavendon was their home, but with a great house came a responsibility and expectations of certain standards. Over the years the villa had become the holiday home for Daphne and Hugo and their children, and other members of the family as well. Daphne’s father, the 6th Earl, had spent his honeymoon here with Charlotte Swann and had been captivated by its beauty and tranquillity.
The main reception rooms opened on to a large garden that swept down to the lake, and the views were spectacular. Hugo, who had bought the villa long before his marriage to Daphne, had never wanted to sell it, and had hung on to it even when financial problems loomed. He had always understood that Villa Fleurir was a wonderful place to escape to and relax in, and also to enjoy the natural beauty surrounding the house, and the ancient town of Zurich, which had great charm.
The one room Daphne had changed was a small sitting room which opened off the library. She had eventually taken this for herself. By adding a desk she had instantly made it into an office. As long as she had a safe place for her papers, and a spot in which to work, she was happy.
On this sunny morning in the first week of August, she sat at the desk, going over the household books. Having run Cavendon for years for her father, she had become accustomed to checking everything, including the money spent at the villa. Satisfied she was within her budget, she closed the last book, and sat back in her chair.
When she had first married Hugo, Hans and Hilde Bauer had run the house with great efficiency, keeping everything shipshape and running well. Their son Bruno, his wife Anna, and two maids who came in daily, had taken over after Hans had retired. If anything, the son was better than the father, but Daphne always kept that thought to herself. And Anna was the best cook, but Hilda had equalled her. They were lucky to have the Bauers to take care of them.
Getting up from the desk, she walked out into the foyer and hurried through the drawing room, making for the door leading to the garden. She stood on the threshold of the French doors, shading her eyes in the bright sunlight, and spotted her daughter Alicia sitting in the gazebo at the end of the lawn. Glancing around, she realized the house was still, very quiet for once. Everyone had disappeared except for Alicia.
Daphne walked down to the gazebo, admiring the grounds as she moved towards the lake ahead of her. The flowers were magnificent, making the garden breathtaking this year. Everything had bloomed so well, and fortunately at the right time.
Alicia looked up when she saw her mother standing next to her and smiled at Daphne.
Her mother bent down and kissed her cheek, and sat next to her. ‘Where is everyone, darling? Have they all gone out?’
‘No, not at all. Cecily is upstairs in their bedroom. She told me she has work to do. And some telephoning, checking on her business, I’ve no doubt. Charlie is in his room writing. My father went to a meeting and took Miles with him. He said they would be back in time for lunch, and not to worry about them being late.’
Daphne laughed. ‘Your father’s hardly ever late, bless him.’
‘I’m glad Cecily and Miles are here, Mummy,’ Alicia said. ‘I thought she looked tired. They both did. But Cecily seemed tenser.’
‘I know what you mean. I noticed that myself when they arrived on Tuesday night. But a few days here and she seems to be more at ease, don’t you think?’
‘It’s the house, you know, everyone sort of collapses here. And they become soft and unworried and genial. I guess I’m right about that.’
Daphne laughed. ‘I know you are. They let go, actually. So, have you made a decision, Alicia? Are you going to join your brothers at the Bowens’ in the south of France or not?’
Alicia shook her head. ‘No, I’m not, Mummy. I’m going to go home to Cavendon next Monday, actually. I want to prepare for work, for September, which is when Felix and Constance will be back. I had a note from him yesterday, and he says they will take me on as a client.’
‘I’m so glad, darling!’ Daphne exclaimed. ‘They’re the best; they will do well for you. And it won’t do you any harm as an actress to be the niece of one of England’s greatest actors.’
There was a sudden commotion, laughter and masculine voices echoing in the air. Daphne stopped talking and glanced behind her. So did Alicia, who exclaimed, ‘It’s Papa, Miles and Charlie. But what on earth are they doing?’
Daphne shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. However, I do see a pair of ladies’ shoes peeping out from behind their collective trouser legs.’
‘Oh, it’s Cecily, obviously! They must be teasing her about something,’ Alicia volunteered. ‘They’re certainly joking around a lot.’
It was Charlie, Daphne’s eldest son, who began to march down the garden path, raising his arms, moving his hands gracefully, like a conductor commanding a huge orchestra. He sang out, ‘Ta da! Ta da! Ta da!’
At that moment Cecily appeared on the scene. She came