by Emma Fraser
Irena nodded, remembering what Katherine had told her about her plans to join the QAs.
‘That’s where I met her. I had the day off from flying and she was in the town with a friend doing some shopping. Meeting her was the best thing that happened while I was in Scotland.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Fiona. She’s from Aberdeen.’ He grinned again.
‘Where’s she now? Still in Peebles?’
A shadow crossed his face. ‘She’s gone with her unit to Africa. I’m not supposed to know but she wrote to me and gave me enough clues for me to work it out. There couldn’t be that many places where the hospital is under canvas and there’s sand everywhere.’
Irena reached across and pressed his fingers. ‘It’s all right. I’m happy for you.’
‘I did love Magdalena, you know.’
She sighed. ‘I know. I think she’d be glad you’re happy.’
‘What about you? Will you be all right?’
‘I’ll have to be. It helps that I love my work in the Paderewski Hospital – Dr Maxwell is very kind to me, she treats me almost like a daughter…’
Aleksy narrowed his eyes and studied her speculatively. ‘Her son is the pilot who brought you to see me, isn’t he?’
‘Richard? Yes, we’ve spent a lot of time together. He’s a good friend.’
Aleksy raised his eyebrow. ‘A good friend? Are you sure that’s all?’
‘What do you mean?’ Blood rushed to her cheeks.
‘Oh come on, dear sister, you can’t be that blind! I saw the way he looked at you when you came to the airfield, and you’ve gone bright red.’
She shifted in her seat and decided it was best to change the subject. Just talking about Richard was making her uncomfortable. It hadn’t been fair to accuse Aleksy of forgetting Magdalena when she’d kissed Richard. Perhaps it was guilt that had made her attack her brother?
‘You know we had a Polish paratrooper admitted to the ward the other day – that’s the third in just over a week. He was a bit cagey when I asked him where he was based. I mean, I know there are Polish forces all over Scotland, I just didn’t know about a parachute regiment nearby.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘They’re dropping men – women too, I’ve heard – into Poland – to work with the AK – the Home Army. They have a training centre in Fife.’ He leaned forward. ‘They’re going around the Polish forces asking if anyone wants to take on special operations.’
Her heart started racing.
‘What did you say?’
‘I thought about it. If I wasn’t flying I would go back too.’
Instantly she knew. It was what she had to do.
That evening, unusually, Lord Glendale dined at home. Irena was relieved. Now she had made up her mind she needed his help.
‘Is there any news of what is happening in my country?’ she asked.
Lord Glendale rustled his paper and peered over the top at her. ‘I expect you miss it.’
‘I’d like to go back.’
‘You will, my dear – as soon as we’ve thrown the Germans out of there.’
She ran her tongue over lips, suddenly dry. ‘Perhaps I could have a moment of your time? I have something I would like to speak to you about.’
She waited until the servants had left the room before continuing. ‘You know I speak German? Russian, too, for that matter?’
‘I do.’ He looked puzzled.
‘I’ve heard that the British are training Poles to go back into Poland.’
Something flickered behind his eyes she couldn’t define. He set the paper down carefully, and looked at her keenly. ‘Where did you hear that?’
She thought it better not to tell him Aleksy had told her. ‘It appears to be well known amongst my countrymen. We’ve had a few men admitted with injuries, broken legs, the odd bullet wound. It doesn’t take too long to put it all together – not when you think about it.’
He leaned back in his chair and filled his pipe. ‘You don’t mind, my dear?’ he asked. She shook her head and waited until the pipe was lit to his satisfaction. ‘I think I see where this is going.’
‘I want to go back to Poland. I don’t want to wait until it’s free. I need to go now.’
He puffed on his pipe for a while longer. ‘We do use Poles for a certain type of work, but it’s extremely dangerous, my dear.’
Her skin prickled. ‘It’s what I want to do.’
‘Even if it means risking your life?’
Her heart banged against her ribs. Although she knew she’d be going back to live with constant fear, there was only one answer to that. Piotr was dead. She’d finished her training. All these months she’d been waiting, longing to return to Poland, the guilt at not being there gnawing away at her. It was time for her to help her countrymen and women.
‘Yes.’
When he smiled it changed his face completely. ‘I want you to take time to think about it. It is a risky business – a very risky business. Life-threatening, to be clear. The Nazis are utterly ruthless.’
‘I know.’
‘Very well. I shall talk to my colleagues. It may come to nothing. There will be a selection process – interviews, aptitude tests, and so on. Then there will be intensive training. Not everyone makes it through. Someone will contact you soon. Until then, say nothing. Not to my wife. Not to Richard. Not to your best friend. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly,’ Irena replied.
He lifted his paper. ‘Oh and Lord Glendale…’
He lowered his paper and peered at her over the top.
‘I’d like to go as soon as possible.’
Chapter 38
‘So, Dr Kraszewska, I understand from Lord Glendale you wish to return to Poland.’
‘That’s correct.’
It was only two days after her conversation with Lord Glendale. He’d asked her once more if she were sure and when she’d assured him she was he’d given her an address and told her that it would be up to the person who interviewed her to decide whether she was a suitable candidate for further training.
The woman shuffled some papers before looking up at her. ‘Why?’
‘Because I am Polish. And because I know what is happening there.’
‘And how do you know that?’
‘I was there. You don’t round up people, work them into the ground without feeding them properly and expect them to live. And I’ve heard worse – rumours that the Jews are being exterminated in so-called relocation camps. I work with Poles. They get news from their families sometimes. It only seems to be the British and Americans who won’t believe what is happening. I lived under occupation for more than a year and I know what the Germans are capable of.’
‘We feel that these rumours have been exaggerated.’
‘Then you must need better intelligence. That’s why you need me. I am Polish, I know the country and I wouldn’t exaggerate. I’m fit and healthy. I speak fluent German and Russian and with my medical training I could have the perfect cover as a nurse.’
‘Do you not think it would be better if you stayed in Britain and continued to work as a doctor?’
‘I promised myself I would return to Poland when I was qualified. I see no reason to wait now.’
And so the questions went on. For over an hour. She was asked about her parents, her brother, her life in Poland before the war and her life since she’d come to Britain, including whether she was romantically involved.
‘I was engaged. I found out recently that my fiancé was killed near the beginning of the war. By the Germans or the Russians, no one is quite certain which.’
‘The Russians are our allies now. If we do send you out, we can’t have you waging your own private war. Is that understood?’
‘Perfectly. I only want to help my country. If the Russians are Britain’s allies then they are ours too.’ She pushed away the thought of what the Russians had done. Many o
f the Polish doctors, medical students and patients had been prisoners of the Red Army and had suffered almost as badly as those taken by the Germans.
Eventually the interview came to an end. ‘You will need to go through a four-day assessment before we can decide whether to accept you. Will you be in London for long?’
‘I’d planned to return to Edinburgh tomorrow, but I’ve been given compassionate leave from my hospital and I’m not due back for another week.’
‘Could you delay your return? I might be able to arrange for you to attend the course this week if you could.’
‘Then I’ll stay.’
She had her hand on the door and was about to leave, when the woman cleared her throat. ‘One last thing, Miss Kraszewska. You’re a doctor or about to become one. What if you have to kill a Nazi? What if you have to shoot him, or slip a knife between his ribs?’
Irena turned around. ‘If you’d asked me this even a week ago I would have said no. But I promise you, if it meant saving my life or one of my fellow Poles, I would do it. God forgive me, I would do it.’
Chapter 39
The day of her graduation was warm. She’d sent a ticket to Aleksy but he’d been unable to get leave. Isabel was unable to come either.
She’d not seen Richard since the evening at East Fortune. He’d sent several invitations to concerts and dances at the airfield, but she always wrote back with an excuse. In the last weeks she’d thought a lot about what Aleksy had said. Why shouldn’t she and Richard grasp happiness where they could? Yet a part of her resisted. She was going back to Poland and there was a chance she would be killed. She had nothing to give him, especially not now. Nevertheless, knowing he was in the world and not far away was a sweet kind of torture.
When she was handed her diploma her pride was tempered with sadness. If only Tata could have seen this day. His daughter was finally a doctor. It was what they’d both wanted. Along with her fellow graduates she repeated the Hippocratic Oath, closing her eyes when it came to the part of Doing No Harm. Despite what she’d told the people on the assessment course, she wasn’t sure she could kill anyone.
She walked out into the sunshine to find Richard amongst the crowd waiting in the square outside McEwan Hall. Seeing him, silhouetted against the sun, his blond hair like a halo, sent a shock of desire and longing through her. She knew it then. Whatever she’d tried to tell herself, she loved him. She’d loved Piotr, but this was different, no less intense but stronger, surer.
Catching sight of her he walked towards her. ‘Well done, darling,’ he said, kissing her cheek.
‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘If Muhammad won’t come to the mountain, and all that…’
‘Richard, I —’
‘Mother told me about Piotr. I’m so sorry.’
‘Would you like me to take your photograph?’ Natasza, one of Irena’s fellow graduands, interrupted. ‘I can see you don’t have a camera.’
‘Thank you,’ Richard said quickly. ‘Where would you like us?’
‘What about on the steps? It’s where most people are having theirs taken.’
Irena stood beside him, feeling awkward, certain everyone could see the way her body reacted to being so near him – as if every part of her was reaching out to him.
‘Where shall I send it when it’s developed?’ Natasza asked.
‘Nineteen Charlotte Square, please. Care of Dr Maxwell.’ Richard turned the full force of his smile on Natasza. ‘I don’t suppose you could make two copies?’
She blushed and smiled back. ‘I could.’
When Natasza had left to join her friends, Richard took Irena by the elbow. ‘I’m taking you for lunch. No arguments.’
‘Why are you here?’
‘Because I couldn’t stay away.’ He said it matter-of-factly, but the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.
They crossed the road to The Doctors, a pub that Irena had been to before with Katherine. He raised a glass. ‘To Dr Kraszewska. What will you do now? Will the Polish Hospital keep you on?’ Although it would be the first time she’d lied to Richard, it was time to use her cover story. She’d received a letter asking her to report to an address in Scotland in two weeks’ time. She had been warned that there would be several stages to her training and it could be discontinued at any point. But she knew she wouldn’t fail. She would do whatever it took to return to Poland.
‘I’ve been asked if I would fill in for doctors on leave in the military hospitals.’
‘In Scotland?’
‘It could be anywhere.’
‘England?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘It would be good if you were sent to England. I’ve to report back for active service in ten days’ time. They need experienced pilots more than ever.’
It felt as if she there was a band of steel squeezing her heart. ‘No!’
He frowned. ‘No, because you don’t want to be near me?’
‘No, because I don’t want you to go back into active service.’
‘So you do care for me, just a little?’
‘You know I do,’ she whispered.
‘Before I leave, I need to go to Skye to check on my father’s lands and houses. I also want to see how the tenants are coping with the war. I want you to come with me.’ The look in his eyes sent a tingle from her toes to her fingertips. ‘What do you say? Will you come?’
She had two weeks before she was due to report for her preliminary training and to spend some of that time with Richard was suddenly irresistible. How could she bear to say no? God help her, she wasn’t strong enough to deny herself just this little time with him.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll come.’
Chapter 40
Skye, 1943
Although it was late by the time the train chugged its way into the station at Kyle, it was still light. Richard took their bags and hefted them onto his shoulder. ‘We need to take a boat across to Skye,’ he said, ‘but we’ll have to wait until morning to do that. In the meantime, I booked us a couple of rooms in a hotel close by.’ He looked at her hopefully.
Irena just nodded. She would sleep with him, but not tonight. When she did she wanted it to be perfect and that excluded furtive visits along a hotel corridor.
The next morning they took the small ferry across to Skye. Richard, a secretive smile playing on his lips, disappeared into a small, single storey-building next to the post office and emerged with two heavy bicycles.
‘Our mode of transport for the next few days,’ he said, grinning broadly.
Irena was dismayed. ‘I can’t ride that,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘You can’t be serious. Everyone knows how to ride a bike.’
Irena shook her head. ‘Not me. Not many Poles can.’
‘Then I’m afraid you are going to have to learn. There’s no spare petrol to be had. It’s either this or we walk.’
She eyed the bicycle, and walked around it.
‘Come on, give it a bash,’ Richard coaxed.
Tentatively, with him holding onto the edge of the saddle, Irena straddled the bicycle.
‘The road is flat. It’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t worry, I won’t let you go until you’re ready.’’
A woman emerged from the post office and stared. Within moments she was joined by an assortment of villagers: two women with shopping, an old man with a pipe who watched with frank curiosity and several children who nudged each other and, giggling, pointed at Irena. The post master brought out a chair for an old woman dressed in black who’d been carrying a basket of fish on her back. They talked amongst themselves in a language Irena hadn’t heard before.
‘In front of these people?’
A man in a flat cap grinned at something the old woman said. He was missing a tooth at the front.
‘Don’t mind them,’ Richard said. ‘They’re just here to cheer you on.’
Irena smiled vaguely in the direction of he
r audience and gritted her teeth. ‘It’s just a matter of confidence,’ Richard continued. ‘A kind of self-belief. If you think you can do it, then you will. Are you ready?’
She nodded. Then she was being pushed along by him. ‘Peddle like mad,’ he said, ‘and keep both hands on the handlebars.’
