‘Priest-in-training,’ he corrects me. He points to his collar. ‘Didn’t this give it away?’
Of course.
‘I just thought you were sentimental about your old clothes,’ I say weakly.
Atlas laughs again as I brush the rest of the dust from the cover of the book. Aren’t priests wrinkled, judgmental old men? Atlas has glowing skin, muscular arms and a smile that is difficult to look away from. He returns my book to the shelf and I glance at the stubble on his cheek and the dark curl at the nape of his neck.
‘I thought priests followed strict rules,’ I say, instantly regretting it.
‘Are you suggesting I don’t?’ He tilts his head playfully.
Is he flirting with me? Am I being flirted with by apriest?
In training, I correct myself.
‘What do priests evendo?’
‘Lots of things. But mostly they seek God,’ Atlas replies. ‘Isn’t that what we’re all doing?’
‘I don’t believe—’
‘Recruit Featherswallow!’
I spin round. Ralph is standing in the doorway to the library, his gun slung over his shoulder. When he sees Atlas standing next to me, his eyes narrow.
‘Your services are required downstairs, but it looks like you think you have better things to do.’
‘My services?’
‘Do I need to remind you two that you are here towork?’ He glares at us. ‘What are you doing up there?’
‘Researching,’ Atlas replies quickly. ‘Recruit Featherswallow needed some reading material.’
‘Featherswallowshould be downstairs making herself available to any superiors who might be in need of her … assistance.’
He sneers at me and I stand up. I climb down the ladder slowly.
‘I was under the impression that the Guardians of Bletchley are here for our protection,’ Atlas says from the upper level. ‘So shouldn’t it beyouassisting Featherswallow, Guardian 707?’
My feet touch the floor and my face burns at Atlas’s daring. I turn to Ralph.
‘Who is asking for me? Is it Dr Seymour?’
‘What were you doing together?’ he says instead ofanswering my question. ‘You’re from different categories.’
‘Atlas showed me where the library is.’
‘You’re not supposed to be sneaking around—’
‘We’re not,’ I say. ‘He was just helping me—’
‘I’ve a mind to have you punished!’ Ralph spits. ‘Both for interrupting a Guardianandfor disobeying Bletchley Park protocol.’
Atlas jumps off the ladder, his face twisting with anger. ‘She wasn’t disobeying anything—’
‘And you’ll be going to isolation – once for lying, and again for being a Third Class rat!’
‘You can’t do that—’ I shout, but my words are cut short as Ralph’s hand comes down on the back of my neck.
