“Aitch…” he said, softly.
“What do you want me to say, Adam? I was eighteen at the time. It was nearly fifty years ago. It’s not as if George Marshall can help us now, is it?”
nearly fifty years agoAdam wasn’t sure how to broach what he wanted to say next. Deciding that he had come this far and so had little option but to grasp the nettle, he sat forward in his seat and tried to keep his voice even. “I just wondered why you never mentioned him?”
Hilda shrugged. “What use would it have been?”
“Well, it might have helped. If there was a plan to protect the Tower all those years ago, it might still be useful now. I don’t know how far it went, or how much support Marshall got…”
Finally, Hilda met his eyes. They’d been wandering the room as he’d been talking; across the bookcases, over the
