Best Kept Secret

you have any luck, Seb?’ she asked even before he’d had the chance to sit down.
    ‘I managed to find out where Bruno lives,’ said Sebastian triumphantly, ‘and—’
    ‘Number forty-four Eaton Square,’ said Mrs Tibbet as she placed a plate of sausages and mash in front of him.
    ‘How do you know that?’
    ‘There’s a Martinez listed in the phone directory, but you’d already gone by the time I thought of that. Did you discover when he’s coming home?’
    ‘Yes, some time on Friday afternoon.’
    ‘Then I’m stuck with you for another couple of days.’ Sebastian looked embarrassed until she added, ‘Which could work out quite well, because the Germans are staying
until Friday afternoon, so you—’ A firm rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. ‘If I’m not mistaken, that will be Mr Kroll and his friends. Come with me, Seb, and
let’s find out if you can understand a word they’re saying.’
    Sebastian reluctantly left his sausage and mash, and followed Mrs Tibbet. He’d caught up with her by the time she opened the front door.

    He only managed to catch a few moments’ sleep during the next forty-eight hours, between lugging suitcases up and down the stairs, hailing taxis, serving drinks and, most
important, translating a myriad questions, from ‘Where is the London Palladium?’ to ‘Do you know any good German restaurants?’, most of which Mrs Tibbet was able to answer
without having to refer to a map or guidebook. On the Thursday evening, their last night, Sebastian blushed when he was asked a question to which he didn’t know the answer. Mrs Tibbet came to
his rescue.
    ‘Tell them they’ll find all the girls they need at the Windmill Theatre in Soho.’
    The Germans bowed low.
    When they left on the Friday afternoon, Herr Kroll gave Sebastian a pound and shook him warmly by the hand. Sebastian handed the money to Mrs Tibbet, but she refused it, saying,
‘It’s yours. You’ve more than earned it.’
    ‘But I still haven’t paid for my board and lodging. And if I don’t, my grandmother, who used to be the manageress of the Grand Hotel in Bristol, would never let me hear the end
of it.’
    Mrs Tibbet took him in her arms. ‘Good luck, Seb,’ she said. When she finally let him go, she stood back and added, ‘Take your trousers off.’
    Sebastian looked even more embarrassed than when Herr Kroll had asked him where he could find a strip joint.
    ‘I need to iron those, if you’re not going to look as if you’ve just come from work.’

31
    ‘I’ M NOT SURE if he’s in,’ said a man Sebastian could never forget. ‘But I’ll check.’
    ‘Seb!’ a voice echoed down the marble corridor. ‘It’s so good to see you, old chap,’ Bruno added as he shook hands with his friend. ‘I was afraid I might
never see you again, if the rumours were true.’
    ‘What rumours?’
    ‘Karl, please ask Elena to serve tea in the drawing room.’
    Bruno led Sebastian into the house. At Beechcroft, Sebastian had always taken the lead, with Bruno his willing lieutenant. Now the roles were reversed as the guest followed his host down a
corridor and into the drawing room. Sebastian had always thought he had been brought up in a degree of comfort, even luxury, but what greeted him when he entered the drawing room would have taken
minor royalty by surprise. The paintings, the furniture, even the carpets wouldn’t have looked out of place in a museum.
    ‘What rumours?’ repeated Sebastian nervously, as he took a seat on the edge of the sofa.
    ‘I’ll come to that in a moment,’ said Bruno. ‘But first, tell me why you left so suddenly? One minute you were sitting with Vic and me in the study, and the next
you’d disappeared.’
    ‘Didn’t the headmaster say anything at morning assembly the next day?’
    ‘Not a word, which only added to the mystery. Everyone had a theory of course, but as both the housemaster and Banks-Williams were silent as the grave, no one knew what was fact and what
was fiction. I asked Matron, that fount of all knowledge, but she clammed up whenever your name was mentioned. Most unlike her. Vic feared the worst, but then his glass is always half empty. He was
convinced you’d been expelled and that was the last we’d hear of you, but I told him we’d all meet up again at Cambridge.’
    ‘I’m afraid not,’ said Sebastian. ‘Vic was right.’ He then told his friend everything that had happened since his interview with the headmaster