Mia couldn't believe what her mum had told her. Neither could Ella when Mia repeated almost word for word what Lori had said, while they waited for Gill to return to the kitchen.

'So someone tampered with Jet's brakes?' Ella queried.

'That's what the mechanic said.'

'But why? Oh! Perhaps it was one of the women he's dumped in the past. Or one of their dads.'

'It's not funny, Ella. Someone could've been seriously hurt.'

'Has something happened?' Gill stood in the doorway, a concerned expression on his face. 'Forgive me. I wasn't eavesdropping. I couldn't help but hear as I was coming along the hall.'

Mia explained about Franklin's so-called accident and how it now seemed it wasn't an accident at all, but an intentional act designed to cause harm, as Ella poured the wine Gill had brought, and they all sat down to eat.

'Do they have any idea who would do such a thing?' Gill asked, and Ella told him there could be a long line of likely suspects if the rumours about Jet's love-life were true.

'But why now?' Mia said, offering Gill the cheese plate. 'He hasn't dated anyone since we've been here. Why would someone from his past decide to take action after all this time?'

'It could be Tom.' Ella took a sip of wine and helped herself to one of Justin's crunchy, cheese-topped rolls. 'Wow. This wine's delicious.'

Gill grinned at her and Mia glowered.

'Tom? Do you honestly think Tom would go to Little Pond Farm and mess with Jet's brakes? Apart from the fact they're friends, he's a vicar, Ella. Okay, it's possible he hasn't been completely truthful about Jet, although we can't even be sure of that, but trying to kill the man is going a bit far, don't you think?'

Ella shrugged. 'People do all sorts of crazy things for Love.'

'The vicar loves Jet?' Gill asked, placing a few slices of cheese on a chunk of fig and hazelnut bread. He clearly couldn't follow the conversation at all.

'No!' Mia said.

Ella grinned. 'We're not completely sure about that, either. He says he loves Mia, but that could be a lie.' She looked excited. 'Ooh! Perhaps that's why he was so horrid about him. Perhaps Tom's been secretly in love with Jet all along and he's pretending to love you to get you away from 'his man'. Didn't Hettie say the day we arrived that she thought Tom may be gay?'

Mia frowned. 'She did. But he's not. He kissed me, remember?'

'He could be Bi,' Gill suggested, and Mia and Ella both stared at him. 'Why not?'

Ella nodded. 'Yeah. I suppose so.'

'But isn't it more likely that he does love Mia?' Gill reasoned. 'That would make more sense if his intention was to get rid of Jet. Of course I'm only speculating here, never having met either man and not having full knowledge of the history or what's been said, I can't really give an informed opinion.'

Before she realised what she was doing, Mia had regaled Gill with a potted history of the last few months, with Ella jumping in and adding or correcting, as necessary. Mia hadn't intended to tell him as much as she did and definitely not the part about her asking Jet to have sex with her and his subsequent rejection. Ella added that part.

Gill listened intently and only when they had finished, some fifteen minutes later, did he comment.

'Has it occurred to you that Jet may have tampered with his own brakes? After everything you've told me, that's a possibility, isn't it? To throw suspicion from himself. If you believe he may be the person who inherits if you leave and that he has simply been stringing you along for all these months, that would make sense.'

'Bloody Nora.' Ella stared at Mia. 'We didn't think of that.'

Mia shook her head in disbelief. 'No. No he wouldn't.'

'But why ask someone else to move his car when he was perfectly capable of doing so himself?' Gill queried.

'He was probably busy, or something. I don't know. But I'm sure he wouldn't have done it. Besides, he wouldn't risk Franklin getting hurt. They're friends as well as work colleagues.'

'Didn't you say Jet and Tom are friends?' Gill said. 'And yet Tom told you Jet wasn't a nice man, didn't he? And that Jet had no heart. Psychopaths feel no empathy towards others.'

'Psychopaths?' Mia shrieked. 'Jet's not a psychopath!'

Ella sniggered. 'He could be. We thought Mattie was a sweet little old lady who had a bit of a shady past. She's turned out to be some sort of badass super spy who hacked into your computer. And Jet is Franklin's boss. Perhaps he's not really friends with anybody, he just pretends to be.'

'No! This is getting ridiculous. Jet's not a psychopath, and he's not cold and calculating, either. I'm sure he's not. Even Hettie likes him, and she doesn't like many people. Perhaps it was a business competitor of Jet's. Perhaps it's got nothing to do with me, or Tom, or Mattie's will. Speaking of which, you came here to discuss Mattie and your grandad, Gill, not to talk about us and our problematic love lives, or people trying to scare us away, or attempt to murder someone. It's almost seven already. Half the evening has gone. Sorry.'

Gill smiled. 'There's nothing to be sorry about, Mia. I've enjoyed discussing this mystery. I wish I could stay for longer and find out who the perpetrator was, and if it's the same person who's been trying to frighten you.'

'You can,' Mia said, without thinking. 'We've got room. Oh. Unless you have to get home and back to work.'

'What?' Ella looked astonished. 'I'm sure Gill didn't mean it, Mia. He was probably just being polite.'

Gill grinned. 'I never say anything I don't mean, Ella. As you'll find out when you get to know me better. I do always try to be polite, but I wasn't being insincere. I genuinely would like to stay for a day or two. But I don't want you to feel you need to extend your invitation, Mia. I may have placed you in an awkward situation. Sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning.'

'I don't need to sleep on it. You're welcome to stay for a few days, if you'd like to, isn't he, Ella?'

Ella shrugged. 'It's your cottage. I don't care either way.'

'Thanks.' Gill grinned at her.

'If you do stay,' Ella added. 'You can meet Tom, and maybe even Jet. Then you can give us your 'informed opinion'.'

His grin broadened, despite Ella's obvious sarcasm. 'With pleasure.'

'You don't have a job to get back to then?' Ella buttered another roll and layered it with cheese, ham and salad as she spoke. 'Living on a trust fund, I suppose.' She squashed it down with the palm of her hand.

Gill watched her, grinning the entire time. 'No. I have a job, but not one I need to go home to do. I'm a freelance journalist. But I'm currently writing a book about the French Resistance during the Second World War.'

'A journalist?' Mia and Ella said, sounding equally worried.

Gill grinned again. 'Don't worry. I shan't be reporting on anything you've told me. My areas of speciality are business and politics. But as I said, I'm concentrating on the book. It's partly a biography of my grandfather, but it covers all aspects of the French Resistance, not just the part he played.'

'Your grandad was in the French Resistance?' Mia asked.

'Yes. Sorry. Didn't I make that clear? That's how he and Mattie met.'

'You did say they were both in the Intelligence Service and that's how they met, but I assumed you meant they worked in England.'

Gill shook his head. 'No. They met in Paris. My grandfather was originally in The Maquis. They were the rural guerrilla bands that later merged to form La Résistance. His brother was captured by the Nazis and Grandfather planned a rather daring rescue attempt. The Paris Resistance put him in touch with Mattie, who – and this may surprise you if you know nothing of her past – was already in Paris posing as the mistress of a fairly high ranking German officer, giving her access to anything from troop movements to prisoner movements and everything in between. She spoke fluent French, German and Italian, which was one of the reasons she was recruited.'

'What?' Mia nearly choked on a chunk of cheese she was eating.

'Bloody Nora,' Ella said, while Mia was clearing her throat. 'I always said she was someone's mistress, didn't I?'

'Yes,' Mia managed. 'But you thought a gangster's mistress, among other things. Was she really the mistress of a Nazi? Maybe that was why her family ostracised her? Although if they knew she was a British agent, surely they would've been proud?'

Gill looked suitably impressed. 'She was a bloody good agent. I can tell you that much. But I believe she was already cut off from her family. My research, and speaking with Grandfather over the years, made it clear that she had no one to return home to, or so she said. When she agreed to help with the rescue – which wasn't actually what Grandfather had asked, he'd simply requested information, it was Mattie who said she could do more – he warned her there was a very strong possibility none of them would get out alive. He told me her precise words were, "I won't be missed. I have no one at home who cares." He assumed she meant her relatives were all deceased. It was only later he found out that wasn't the case at all.'

Now Ella looked impressed. 'So not just a super spy, but a heroine, too. Did you meet Mattie?'

Gill shook his head. 'Sadly no. I didn't know who she was until I found the letters last week. What I mean is, I didn't know Mattie Ward, who Grandfather had mentioned a few times, as 'a friend who lives in England' was the same woman he told me all the stories about. Her name was Margot Voss, you see. That was the name she was given when she was sent to France, no doubt by one of the many secret sections of SIS, the Secret Intelligence Service. She was recruited by SIS prior to becoming an SOE agent. Stories about covert operations are still coming to light today and few people know the true extent of it. SIS agents were bound by the Official Secrets Act and SOE records were dissolved after the war. All agents took their obligation of confidentiality extremely seriously even years after the war ended. Some – like Mattie, it seems – never spoke of it. Grandfather lied to me about Mattie though, and that was something he never did, so I was surprised when I discovered it and realised that Mattie and Margot were one and the same. He told me Margot Voss died in May, 1945, just a few days after the war in Europe ended. He said that she was in a car crash and died from her injuries. She didn't. The name may have, but Margot Voss returned to England and resumed her true identity as Miss Matilda Ward.'

Mia frowned. 'So … if your grandad never told you, and you say you only discovered it when you found Mattie's letters, how do you know Mattie was Margot?'

'Because in the letters, she calls him Will, and refers to him as her Resolute Protector, more than once. That's the meaning of William, which of course is the English equivalent of Guillaume, and RP was his code name during the war. And he frequently refers to her as his perfect Pearl. Margot Voss's code name was, you've guessed it, Pearl. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. They were, in some small and romantic way, harking back to those years they spent together.'

'Spent together?' Ella asked. 'I thought she was the mistress of some German officer?'

'She was. But when he was killed – by them, as it happens. Don't look so shocked. This was war and neither Grandfather nor Margot thought twice about it if it needed to be done. They were trained to kill. She then joined Grandfather and worked for the SOE alongside the French Resistance. She and Grandfather became lovers soon after they met. She was caught in July 1943, but Grandfather and some of the others, rescued her from where she was being held, awaiting transport. She was one of the lucky ones. After being interrogated, she would've been sent to Ravensbrück. A few other female SOE agents were sent there and they weren't so lucky. After months of brutal treatment in appalling conditions, they were executed, shortly before liberation of the camp by the Allies.'

Ella slumped back in her chair, wine glass in hand. 'That's a cheery tale. Sorry. I know they went through hell and back, but would you mind if we discussed something a little bit more cheerful?'

'Sorry,' Gill said. 'Of course.'

'It's unbelievable what they went through,' Mia said, tears pricking at her eyes as she could picture the experience, from various films she'd seen over the years. But to know that Mattie, her great-aunt had gone through that, and kept it to herself, really brought it home to her. 'Ella and I think it's a disaster if we can't find the right nail varnish to go with an outfit we're wearing, but those women had—'

'Yes. Thank you!' Ella interrupted. 'I've seen the films. I don't need to be reminded.' She screwed up her face as if she could feel their pain.

Mia coughed and shifted in her seat. 'You're right. And yet we should be reminded, shouldn't we? We should all remember what those people did, especially what the women like Mattie did, in the name of freedom. Our freedom. You said you're writing a book, Gill? Are you writing about Mattie, too? Or Margot, or Pearl, or whatever she was called?'

He nodded. 'Yes. But I shan't reveal her true identity – unless you want me to, of course.'

'Oh. Um. I don't know. I'm not sure she would want that. I wish I could find her diaries. They might throw some light on what was going on in her head.'

Gill sat upright. 'Mattie kept diaries?' His excitement was obvious.

'Yes. But we don't know where they are.'

Ella sighed. 'Like everything else of Mattie's, they're hidden somewhere.'

'But you know for certain they exist? How?'

'We saw a photo of them on Mattie's laptop. And her laptop's another story. But I'll tell you that part later. The photo was in the wrong place, which was why we spotted it immediately. It should've been in the folder called 'Sunbeam Cottage' because it's a photo of the attic room upstairs. Instead she'd put it in the wrong folder. It was in the folder containing lots of old photos of her.'

Gill leant forward. 'From what I've learnt about Margot, sorry, Mattie over the years, she wouldn't put anything in the wrong place. She was far too careful and intelligent for that. May I see the photo?'

'Yes of course. It's on the laptop, which is in the attic room. Come with me and I'll show you.'

He was on his feet in a split second. 'I think it may be a clue,' he said.

'A clue?' Ella asked. 'A clue to what?'

He beamed at her like a boy who had solved his very first puzzle. 'To where she's hidden the diaries.'

'Don't get your hopes up,' Ella said. 'We've searched that room from top to bottom and tested every floorboard to see if one is loose. They're all nailed down firmly and as Mattie was ninety-nine and the photo is relatively recent, there was no way even she could be nailing down floorboards at her age. And the diaries aren't in the 'secret room' we found, either. Or her safe.'

'Let's see,' he said, and they hurried from the kitchen as if the place had just caught fire.