THE SECRET AGENT

Chapter 1: Mr Verloc

Mr Verloc went out one morning, leaving his shop in the care of his brother-in-law. His brother-in-law was left in the care of Mr Verloc's wife, Winnie.
It was a small shop in Soho, an area of London. The family, Mr and Mrs Verloc, Mrs Verloc's brother Stevie and Mrs Verloc's mother all lived in the house above the shop.
The shop was never very busy. Its business was not very respectable. In the windows were pictures of naked dancing girls, small packets, a few books and some newspapers.
The customers of the shop were always men. The younger ones were embarrassed about being in the shop, especially if Mrs Verloc was serving them. They often left without buying what they came in for because they were too shy to ask a woman.
The door of the shop was the only entrance to the house where the Verloc's lived. Behind the counter was a door to the back room, where there was a staircase. The shop was Mr Verloc's cover for his other work; he thought of himself as a protector of society. In reality, Mr Verloc was a lazy man and he did little for this other job. He enjoyed his home life here; it was peaceful and he liked being looked after by Winnie.
Mr Verloc was a fat man with sleepy eyes. Winnie Verloc was a young woman with neat, shiny dark hair and a tranquil, reserved face.
Winnie's mother was also rather large. Her legs were very swollen, so she did not move about much. When her husband had died, she had rented out apartments to gentlemen and Winnie had helped to look after them. Mr Verloc was one of these gentlemen. He had stayed there for some time, and eventually he and Winnie got married.
After they were married, Winnie's mother's business was sold because, said Mr Verloc, it was inconvenient for his other work. He never told them what this other work was, except to say that it was of a political nature. Mr Verloc took them all to live above his shop in Soho. Winnie's mother was happy with this arrangement. She no longer worried about her daughter's future, and she even felt happy about the future of her son, Stevie.
'Poor Stevie!' she often thought to herself. She was happy that Winnie and Mr Verloc did not have any children of their own because that left more time to care for Stevie.
Stevie was a good-looking boy, but he was delicate and not very clever. He learnt to read and write, but as he grew up it became clear that he was not able to work.
His first job as a messenger was not a success; he kept forgetting the messages. Often he became distracted by a cat or a dog and followed them down small streets until he was completely lost and could not remember his own address. His second job was as an office boy when he was fourteen years old. One afternoon, Stevie was discovered starting fireworks on the staircase. Luckily, no damage was done, but Stevie lost his job.
When Winnie announced that she and Verloc were going to get married, her mother worried about Stevie. But Mr Verloc brought them all to live with him; Winnie, her mother and her brother.
So, this was the house, the family and the business that Mr Verloc left behind at half past ten one morning. He walked slowly through the streets of London. He was going to the embassy of a foreign country - his other employer.
Mr Verloc had a letter from the embassy in his pocket, asking him to be there that morning. When he arrived, Verloc showed the letter to the man on the door, and he was led into a small room. An important-looking gentleman was sitting at a desk with some papers in front of him.
'I have some of your reports here,' the man said to Verloc.
Verloc recognised his own handwriting.
'I've read your reports for the last twelve months,' the man continued, 'and I don't understand why you wrote them at all. You write about a situation that we already know about. There's nothing new here. We all know that the police aren't severe enough. We need something to happen, a definite event, which will force them to be more vigilant.' He stopped and stared at Verloc. 'You're very fat,' said the man.
Mr Verloc was shocked.
'I think you should see Mr Vladimir,' the man said. 'Wait here.'

Mr Verloc was worried. He began to sweat. He was led down a corridor to a large room. A young man sat in a comfortable chair behind the desk; he was Mr Vladimir, the First Secretary of the embassy.
Mr Vladimir was known as a pleasant man. He was very popular in high society. However, at this moment he did not look very pleasant to Mr Verloc.
'How long have you been employed by the embassy here?' he asked Verloc.
'Eleven years,' answered Verloc. 'Since Baron Stott-Wartenheim was here.'
'So what do you have to say for yourself?' said the First Secretary.
Verloc replied that he did not have anything special to say, but the embassy had sent him a letter, ordering him to come. He started searching for it in his pocket but Mr Vladimir interrupted him.
'What's the matter with you? You're too fat to be a secret agent! You, an anarchist? Rubbish! I'll tell you what I think; you're lazy and fat and do very little for your pay from this embassy. How long have we been paying you?'
'Eleven years,' said Mr Verloc again.
'Well, what we want is something in return for the money you've received over eleven years. What we want now is action.'
Mr Verloc now felt very uncomfortable.
'You think of yourself as an 'agent provocateur'. The business of an 'agent provocateur' is to provoke. You have provoked nothing for the last three years,' said Mr Vladimir.
'What we want,' he said, 'is an attack. An attack on a building. I'm not saying people need to die. We just want something to shock the public, to wake up the police and force the British Government into action. They're becoming too soft these days. They need to be harder, stricter, more frightening. Only then will the ordinary people want a political change. Perhaps even a revolution...'
Mr Verloc said nothing. He did not know what to say. He waited.
'A bomb attack on the Greenwich Observatory is perfect for these times. People today respect and admire science. And everyone has heard of the Greenwich Observatory, I'll give you a month. If nothing happens within a month, your connection with us is over.'
Mr Verloc nodded and left the room.
He left the embassy building, walking slowly back along the way he came earlier. He felt angry and worried.
Verloc arrived home and walked through to the back room. He sat down. Mrs Verloc was cooking and watching over Stevie.
An hour and a half later, Verloc still had not moved or spoken. Winnie sent Stevie to wash his hands and set the table for dinner. She put the dinner out on plates and then called her mother and Mr Verloc.
'Mother, Adolf!'
They sat around the dinner table. The two women were silent because of Mr Verloc's mood. Stevie also sat very quietly, staring vacantly.

Part 2

Carla is going to leave the shop. But where is her umbrella?
There is one umbrella near the door. It is not a red umbrella. It is not Carla’s umbrella.
This umbrella is old and black. It has a pattern of yellow ducks. It is not smart. Carla takes the umbrella. “This is not my lucky day!” Carla says.
Carla walks to the town square. A young man speaks to her.
Hello!
He smiles.
Carla does not know this young man. She walks away quickly.
The young man is following Carla. She walks into a crowd of people. The young man follows the black and yellow umbrella. “Hello! Wait!”  A young man says.

Part 3

Carla turns. She looks at the young man. She is angry. “Go away!” she says.
The young man is sad. “Marisa, I’m sorry!” he says.  “I’m very late.”
“I’m not Marisa,” Carla shouts. “You are not Marisa?” says the young man. He points at the black umbrella with yellow ducks. “That’s her umbrella.” “Oh,” says Carla. “Who is Marisa?” “I don’t know Marisa,” says the young man. “I’m going to meet her. We are going to have coffee. It is my cousin’s idea. Marisa works with my cousin.” “I am not Marisa!” says Carla again.
 “My cousin has a photo of Marisa,” says the young man. “She’s tall. You’re tall. Her hair is short and dark. Your hair is short and dark. In the photo, she has an umbrella.
It’s a black umbrella with yellow ducks. You have a black umbrella with yellow ducks!”
Carla looks up at the old umbrella. “Marisa is a thief,” she thinks. “She has my new red umbrella.” Carla is angry again. “Please don’t be angry,” says the young man. He looks at his watch “It’s three o’clock. Marisa goes to work at 2.30. I can’t meet her now. It’s too late.” He smiles at Carla. “Let’s have coffee together,” he says.
Carla thinks for a moment. “OK,” she says. “Let’s go to my aunt’s café.” The young man smiles again. “That will be great,” he says. “My name is Paul. I’m a law student - third year," a young man says. “I’m Carla. I’m a student too. I’m studying science,” Carla says.

Part 4

Carla sits in the café with Paul. They drink coffee. They talk. They laugh and talk.
Suddenly Carla jumps up. “Oh, no!” she says. “It’s late. I must go home. I must study. I’m going to have an exam tomorrow.” “Good luck! Will you meet me again?” Paul says. “Yes. That will be nice.” Carla says.
It is almost dark. The town square is quiet.
Carla sees a tall young woman. The young woman has short dark hair. She has a smart umbrella. It is a red umbrella.
The young woman is Marisa!
Marisa sees the old black umbrella with yellow ducks. She is worried. Suddenly, her face is red. “Don’t worry, says Carla. “Keep my red umbrella. I like this umbrella. It’s a lucky umbrella. This is my lucky day!” The rain falls on the umbrellas. Carla smiles. Then she runs home.