Be Not Afraid

by Christopher Nicole

  “I should not like it if you weren’t.”

  “Well . . .” He licked his lips. “I would not be a human being, and I certainly would not be a man, if I did not wish to have sex with you.”

  She nodded. “I think it is what we should do first.”

  As usual, he was totally taken aback by her directness.

  “Well, you see,” she explained, “we can make no progress until we have established that it is at least satisfactory.”

  Suddenly he was nervous. “But if . . .”

  She smiled. “You cannot make me climax? I would not expect you to do that, the first time. But sex is not just about orgasms. They are the least important. It is about touching, and feeling, and wanting.”

  “Have you . . .” Again he checked himself, about to tread on forbidden ground.

  “Yes,” she said. “It had to happen, sometimes. Usually with very young men, but once or twice with an older man. Perhaps they were all accidents. I think some of them just wanted to watch me in the throes of passion. But some of them were very kind.”

  “But not the majority.”

  “No,” she said. “Not the majority. It is remarkable how many men just wish to hurt women.”

  “Oh, my dear. My dear, dear girl.” Still holding her hand, he drew her against him. “I swear that no man is ever going to lay a finger on you again.”

  She pulled her head back, eyebrows arched. “Not even you?”

  For a moment he gazed at her, uncertain of her mood, then he drew her to him again and kissed her on the mouth. It was the first time she had been so kissed in nearly three years, since Grippenheimer in fact. Although clients had not been supposed to kiss girls on the mouth, most of them had, and had wanted to tongue kiss as well. She had become so used to it that she found her mouth opened at the first touch of his.

  Then for the first time she wondered what she was doing. Despite Papa’s confidence, could it ever work? Did she want it to work? Yes, she thought, she did. She wanted a man, needed a man, always at her side, not for sex although she understood that would have to be a part of any deal, but because she did not think she was capable of protecting herself, at least mentally. Since her rescue, Papa had provided that essential shield but now he wanted to devote himself to Martina. She felt no real jealousy about that; she desired his happiness above even her own. So she sought a replacement. And this man was at least gentle, and had sweet breath.

  Now he pulled his head back to gaze at her anxiously, and she realised that save for granting him her tongue, she had not in any way responded. She held him close to bring him back to her, and kissed him again.

  *

  Harry Druce was not quite sure whether he was in heaven. That she was utterly adorable, far more so than anyone he had ever met, was unarguable. He had hitherto found his greatest pleasure in just looking at her, watching her move, discovering her idiosyncracies, such as the sudden toss of her head which caused her magnificent hair to flutter before it settled again on her shoulders. He thought it would be the most marvellous thing in the world to watch her writhing in ecstacy and knew that her judgement had been correct: that any proper relationship between them could only come after his sexual fervour had been assuaged.

  And hers? Oh, he hoped so.

  And that infamous blood test? But anyone who could imagine so magnificent a creature could be diseased had to be diseased himself – in the mind.

  He lay on her bed and waited for her. As instructed, he had undressed. She came into the room; and without meaning to he sat up, for she also was naked. She was far more voluptuous than any twenty-year-old girl had any right to be, with a woman’s breasts but still high, and legs and thighs as strong as his own, and above them all that so beautiful face, as always, expressionless. He reckoned the most important thing he had to do with his life was bring expression into that face.

  “Have you a contraceptive?” she asked.

  “My God, no!”

  She smiled. “You did not expect to have this event thrust at you so suddenly. I have one.” She showed him the condom. “It is not mine. I took it from Papa’s drawer. I do not think he means to get Martina pregnant. At least not yet.” She sat on the bed beside him. “I will put it on for you. When it is time.”

  She got on to her knees and straddled him, then slowly came down to kiss him again. Tentatively he stroked her back, and then slipped his hands down to her buttocks.

  “Relax,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s going to be all right. But we had better be quick, I think.” She pushed herself up and affixed the condom. Her fingers were as light as a feather. “We’ll have more time for real love-making after,” she said. “How would you like me?”

  “On your back? I want to feel every inch of you.”

  She smiled and lay down.

  *

  So, it’s done, she thought, as she lay with her head pillowed on his arm. It had been one of the few pleasurable sexual experiences of her life. He had set out to please himself, certainly, but her also, and if he hadn’t completely succeeded, that was irrelevant. He had tried; that was what mattered; he would try again, and again, and eventually he would succeed.

  He caressed her breasts, still with that air of uncertain wonderment. “Happy?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I am happy.”

  “Then I also am happy.”

  She kissed his ear and listened to the doorbell ring.

  “Damnation,” he muttered. “That’s not your father back already?”

  Anna looked at the clock on the bedside table. “No. When he said lunch, he meant lunch. It is only half past nine. Do not worry; I will send whoever it is away.”

  She got up and put on her dressing gown.

  “Do you wish me to come down with you?” he asked.

  She smiled. “It will cause the neighbours to gossip.”

  “You have no neighbours.”

  “You just stay there,” she said.

  “Well, be careful.”

  Anna went to her bureau and took out her revolver.

  Druce sat up. “Good God! Is that yours?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you know how to use it?”

  “I practise every day. Papa says I am a crack shot. I will show you later.” She put the revolver in her dressing-gown pocket and went to the door. “I will leave this open, so that you can hear.”

  “If you need me, I’ll be there.”

  She blew him a kiss and went down the stairs, frowning as she looked through the glass panelling of the front door; whoever it was appeared to be in uniform but she had heard no car.

  Still, someone in uniform . . . She turned the latch and allowed the door to swing in, her right hand resting on the revolver in her pocket. And gazed in surprise at the middle-aged woman in the uniform of the Salvation Army.

  “Good morning,” the woman said.

  “Good morning,” Anna replied, taking her hand from her pocket and drawing the dressing gown closer about her. “May I help you?”

  “I was actually looking for Colonel Townsend.”

  “I’m afraid my father is out.”

  “Your father. Then you will be Miss Townsend? Miss Anna Townsend?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “How nice to meet you. I have read a lot about you.”

  “Have you?” Anna wondered where.

  “May I ask when your father will be home?”

  “I expect him for lunch.”

  “Ah. Tell me, do you and he live alone here?”

  “No, no,” Anna said. “There will be five of us for lunch.”

  Which was technically correct, even if Howard could hardly yet be called a complete human being.

  “Ah,” the woman said again. “Then I will call later.”

  “You mean you will return at lunchtime?”

  “No, I don’t think I can do that. Perhaps tomorrow. Will your father be in tomorrow?”

  “As far as I know. Who shall I say called?”

&n
bsp; “My name is not important. He will not know it.”

  “Well, then, your business.”

  “I simply called to offer the colonel my condolences on the death of his wife. But she was not your mother, I believe.”

  “No,” Anna said. “She was my friend.”

  “I am so sorry. Do give your father my regards. I will call again.”

  She looked past Anna for a moment, then turned and went down the steps, mounted the bicycle that was leaning against them, and rode away.

  Anna turned, looked at Druce’s feet on the stairs. “She saw you.”

  “I’m sorry. I wanted her to see me.” He came down. “I didn’t want her to get the idea that you were alone in the house.”

  “You’re very suspicious. She was from the Salvation Army.”

  “You mean she was wearing a Salvation Army uniform. I don’t think she was genuine.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “For one thing, she wasn’t English.”

  “She looked English to me.”

  “Certainly she did. But she had an accent. Didn’t you notice it?”

  Anna frowned. “Now you mention it . . . but really, a middle-aged woman riding a bicycle . . .”

  “What exactly does that prove?”

  “I’ll tell Papa. He’ll know how to handle it. I think we should get dressed.”

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll spend the rest of the morning talking about our marriage.”

  *

  Berkeley and Martina returned at twelve and Martina hurried Howard upstairs.

  “He’s been a ball of fire,” she said. “Now he’s exhausted and ready for his nap.”

  “I’ve put the lunch on,” Anna said.

  “I hope you’ve had a profitable morning?” Berkeley enquired, looking from one to the other.

  “We got to know each other,” Anna said. “And we had this visitor.”

  “Tell me.”

  Anna told him about the woman.

  “She wasn’t English,” Druce said.

  “So what do you reckon?”

  “I think she was up to no good. I have a notion that if she hadn’t seen me she might have attempted to harm Anna.”

  “And I would have shot her,” Anna said.

  “I’m still glad I was here,” Druce said.

  She squeezed his arm. “So am I, actually, if not entirely because of that woman.”

  “What are you going to do about it, sir?” Druce asked.

  “Wait and see what develops. Forewarned is forearmed. It will be interesting to see what she comes up with.”

  *

  “Well?” Berkeley asked, when Druce had left and he was alone with his daughter.

  “I think it is going to work out, Papa.”

  “That sounds somewhat qualified. Did he . . . ah . . .”

  “I made him. You said we should.”

  “So I did. And there were no problems?”

  “None at all. Are you angry?”

  “Not if he made you happy. Jealous, maybe.”

  They gazed at each other and Anna’s tongue came out and circled her lips. “I would have preferred it to have been you.”

  “Anna! Don’t ever say that again. Don’t ever even think it.”

  “Why not? It is the truth.”

  “Some truths are unacceptable.”

  “Because it is against the law? Or because you do not find me attractive?”

  “You are the most attractive woman I have ever known.”

  Her eyes widened. “More attractive than Mama?”

  “You do not hate, the way she did. Although you have just as much reason to do so.”

  “But when she learned to hate, she did not have you.” Another lick of the lips. “If you ever wished to come to my bed, Papa, I would welcome you.”

  “Anna!”

  “No one would ever know. Well, Martina might, but I know she would not object.”

  “And Druce?”

  “He would never know either.”

  “I was thinking of your relationship with him.”

  “That would not be affected.”

  “You mean you do not love him, and could never love him.”

  “I do not love him. But I like him, and I think perhaps in time I could love him.”

  “Do you wish to marry him?”

  “If I have to marry anyone, I think he is the best.”

  “Marriage is not something to undertake against a background of incest as well as everything else.”

  “Compared with everything else, incest is a very little crime.”

  “You are damned difficult to argue with. Now listen, I am going to marry Martina.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad. She will be so happy. And she will make you happy too.”

  “You’re not jealous?”

  “Of course I am jealous, Papa. It is the other side of the same coin. If I cannot have you, then I can think of no one better suited. She is like Mama, but as you say, she does not hate. I do not think Lucy was ever a proper wife for you. You do not mind my saying this?”

  “Not at all. I think you’re probably right. But you see, if I am to marry Martina, you simply have to get married as well.”

  “Or I will be a fifth wheel to a coach,” she agreed. “Then I will marry Harry. Do we still have to wait a year?”

  “Well . . . perhaps a few months, at any rate.”

  *

  Martina was delighted; she had not expected her own life and ambition to develop so quickly.

  “Can I have a child?” she asked enthusiastically. “I so want a child. Don’t suppose it will interfere with my caring for Howard.”

  “Of course you shall have a child,” Berkeley assured her. “But I think we should wait until after we are married.”

  “You do not want a bastard,” she said. “I am glad. Neither do I.” She squeezed Anna’s hand. “We shall have our first children together. I know it. When will we be married? We could have a joint wedding. That would cause a sensation.”

  “Everything any of us does causes a sensation,” Berkeley said. “I’ll have a word with Druce. That sounds like the post.”

  “I’ll get it.” Anna ran to the door and returned with several envelopes. “Bill, bill, bill, invitation? Circular. And a letter from Germany. Addressed to you, Papa.”

  Berkeley took the envelope. He thought he recognised the handwriting, although he could not immediately place it. But for the moment he was merely relieved; every day he expected some kind of rocket from the War Office for his evidence at the trial.

  He slit the envelope, took out the single sheet of paper inside; the handwriting was in German.

  My old friend,

  Further to my last, I now have some positive information to give you. Heinrich Himmler has emerged as a man of some importance in the Berlin branch of the Nazi Party. He is apparently a protégé of the local party boss, a man named Goebbels, a detestable fellow. Himmler is becoming known as Goebbels’ private hit man, and I have heard it rumoured that he may be destined for higher things, perhaps even as a member of Hitler’s personal bodyguard.

  You did not tell me why you wished to know about this man and I respect your wish to keep this private, but if I may offer some advice, these people are not to be meddled with except from a position of great strength. Their methods are very brutal and they enjoy a considerable amount of political and police protection, which enables them to parade as virtuous and law-abiding citizens.

  Take care, my friend.

  David Cohn.

  Berkeley handed the letter to Anna, who read it and then gave it to Martina; like them, the Serb woman read German.

  “What are we going to do?” Anna asked.

  “If we accept David’s opinion, there’s not a lot we can do,” Berkeley said. “The Nazis may be an irrelevance in German politics but they have a considerable organisation, and Cohn suggests that it is the organisation we’d be up against rather than just Himmler. We haven’t th
e strength or the resources to take on a political party in a shooting war.”

  “But they have the strength and the resources to take us on,” Anna said.

  “We’ll just have to be careful.”

  “We could go away,” Martina suggested.

  “And become fugitives for the rest of our lives?”

  “But if anything were to happen to you . . .” Anna said.

  “People have been trying to kill me for twenty years,” Berkeley assured her. “They haven’t made it yet.”

  *

  The next day Berkeley drove into Northampton to see Walton. That left Anna and Martina alone at home with Howard but he knew that of all the women in the world they were the most capable of taking care of themselves. They were aware of their situation in a way that Lucy, with her protected upbringing, could never be.

  “Colonel Townsend.” Walton himself ushered him into the office. “How good to see you. You must be much relieved all that terrible business is behind you.”

  Berkeley took the offered chair. “In my business nothing is ever quite behind me, Walton. Is young Druce around?”

  “Indeed he is.” Walton frowned. “He tells me you have been allowing him to court Anna. I hope he hasn’t been improper?”

  “To my knowledge, he has done nothing for which I have not given permission. I have every hope that they will get married, as soon as possible.”

  “That would be very nice. But . . . as soon as possible?”

  Berkeley grinned. “You lawyers have tunnel vision. I would like the marriage to take place quickly, not because Anna is pregnant but for a reason I would like to outline to you both.”

  “Of course.” Walton rang his bell. “Ask Mr Druce to step in here, will you, Miss Carlisle.”

  Druce arrived a few minutes later, looking almost as anxious as his superior. “Colonel Townsend?”

  Berkeley shook hands. “Can he sit down?”

  “Of course. Sit down, Harry. Colonel Townsend has something he wishes to say to us both.”

  “I wish to draw up a will,” Berkeley said.

  Both solicitors raised their eyebrows.

  “You do not have a will already, Colonel?” Walton asked. His tone indicated that in his opinion for a man in Berkeley’s profession that was gross negligence.

  “Indeed I do. It is lodged with Howard Horsfall, as it is largely concerned with his daughter.”