by Alan Bardos
‘Should be back in an hour or so, she signed out before I came on duty this morning.’
‘I’ll wait.’
‘Not in here you ain’t, we got regulations.’
Johnny left the nurses’ home and took a table at a pavement café opposite. He ordered red wine and a hookah pipe, then settled down to wait for her to come back.
‘Drinking on our own are we? Pitiful it is.’ A lilting Welsh ascent brought Johnny to his feet.
‘19666 Aneurin Williams – where the hell did you come from?’ Johnny said pumping his hand.
‘I’m glad to see the firing squad didn’t get you, sir, the letter I wrote worked then?’
‘Yes, you could say that, thank you. Although you sent it to the wrong person.’
‘Oh, I thought it was strange, that your uncle was called Lady Smyth. Still wasn’t my place to argue, now was it?’
The waiter returned with a carafe of red wine and an elaborately decorated hookah pipe. Johnny asked for another glass.
‘Sit and have a drink with me.’
‘That wouldn’t be right now would it, you being an officer, like.’ Williams said.
‘No one’s going to know, look at me,’ Johnny pointed at his service jacket.
‘No, I suppose not.’
The waiter brought another glass so Williams shrugged and sat down. He took a mouthful of the wine and cringed. ‘Dear God, but the English will drink anything.’
‘It reminds me of better times,’ Johnny said and poured more wine.
‘Surprised you remember anything, drinking that.’
‘How did you get here Williams?’ Johnny asked.
‘I’m Crassus’s, beg pardon, Lieutenant Dawkins’s servant of all things.’
‘You’re his servant?’ Johnny laughed.
‘Go on bloody laugh, it’s better than the trenches, but not by much.’
‘Why would he choose the most insubordinate man he possibly could to be his servant?’
‘Thinks he can knock some discipline into me – oh, the arrogance of it. He took my stripes an all for threatening to bayonet him!’ Williams grimaced. ‘I’m supposed to be following you, see what you get up to, but couldn’t let you drink alone now could I?’
‘He’s probably testing your loyalty.’
‘I don’t care. I’m not having it, not any more. You have to get me out.’
‘How do you expect me to do that? Look at me, I don’t even have a decent uniform.’
‘Don’t talk daft, man. You work in HQ.’
‘That doesn’t mean I have any pull. Do you think I want to be stuck here when I should be at the front?’
‘He misquotes Nietzsche and Darwin at me while I’m polishing his boots,’ Williams said, wringing every ounce of pathos from the words.
Johnny took a long pull on the pipe, watching the water bubble up in clouds of sweet aromatic smoke that sent the blood rushing through his head and soothed away the hubbub of the day.
‘Alright I’ll try, but I warn you it’s bloody boring.’
Johnny heard a gasp and for a moment he went numb. Gabrielle was glaring at him with her hands on her hips. It was the first time they’d seen each other since he’d been marched off to his court martial.
‘Hello there?’ was all Johnny could think to say as she came towards him. ‘You still look angelic in your uniform.’
‘Pfff.’ Gabrielle made a dismissive sound through rolled lips and clenched teeth.
Williams laughed, ‘I’d like to say he’s not normally this much of a bloody fool, but he’s had a bit to drink.’
Gabrielle smiled at Williams. ‘I know Lieutenant Swift.’
‘Oh, I see, Myfanwy those jet eyes, what clouds thy brow. I’ll leave you to it then sir, I need to report back to Dawkins,’ Williams left with a grin.
‘So this is where you ended up?’ Johnny asked, trying to make some semblance of conversation.
‘I’m being posted to the Sicilia.’ She said and sat down at the table, picking up William’s glass and sniffing it with disgust.
‘You’re going to a hospital ship?’ Johnny asked.
‘Obviously,’ Gabrielle said, raising a scornful eyebrow and called to the waiter. ‘Coffee.’
‘Did you get my letter?’ Johnny asked.
‘Yes, I got your letter.’ Gabrielle blushed slightly. ‘It caused quite a stir. It’s not every nurse who gets a letter from her sweetheart, with the Imperial German Eagle embossed on the envelope.’
‘So I’m your sweetheart?’
‘Pfff,’ Gabrielle made the dismissive sound again. ‘I couldn’t stay there. Everyone thought I was a spy and so Doctor Glencoe organised a new posting. As far away as he could send me.’
‘It’s nice that was here.’
‘Yes, very nice.’
The waiter brought the coffee and made a great show of pouring it out, for a beautiful woman. When he left, Gabrielle made the pfff noise again, making it sound like a growl of disgust. ‘You took your time writing to me.’
‘I was on secondment, performing special duties,’ Johnny said, hoping that might impress her.
‘Special duties, very convenient.’ Gabrielle looked decidedly annoyed.
‘Yes, it was quite dangerous in fact,’ Johnny said, slightly offended that she would doubt him.
‘So you escaped the firing squad, but let me think you were dead and when you did write, you did so on the back of a drinks bill.’
‘Restaurant bill.’
‘Thank you for clarifying that.’ She smirked, ‘I’m glad they didn’t shoot you, Johnny.’
Johnny wondered if her sardonic demeanour was in fact elaborate foreplay. ‘Yes, so am I. I’m sorry, it must have been rather rough for you, when I was taken away.’
‘Pfff. What is one more dead lover?’ Gabrielle said matter-of-factly.
‘Yes fair point. I might still be killed.’
‘You’ll be taking part in the invasion?’
‘Not exactly I’m currently working in logistics at HQ, for Sir George Smyth. The person who got me the reprieve from the firing squad. He won’t have much use for me when the invasion starts and I doubt he’s just going to let me walk off into the sunset.’
‘Why don’t you run away?’
‘I suppose I’ll have to eventually. I have a plan to get some money out of Sir George, but I suppose the point is I’d like the charges against me dismissed and be returned to my unit.’
‘What is your plan?’ She seemed genuinely interested.
‘Trick him into signing a bankers draft then book a passage to Tunisia or somewhere and join the French Foreign Legion.’
Gabrielle snorted, ‘Very romantic. Why don’t you have him sign something incriminating and then persuade him to do as you want?’
‘What like a confession to being a pompous ass?’
‘You say you work in supply? I can’t walk down the street without being approached for morphine. There is clearly a black market in it. Perhaps you could prepare a document transferring morphine supplies to the wrong place.’
Johnny grinned, ‘Or someone who has no business having it.’
‘The important thing is to make your Sir George look like a black marketeer so he can be compromised.
‘It could work reputation is everything to him.’ Johnny’s mind was racing, anymore scandal would compound his current state of disgrace. ‘More to the point people would believe it, Sir George’s family used to trade in opium. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and all that.’
Johnny took out Crassus’s list and wondered if he could kill two birds with one stone. ‘Perhaps we could send the morphine to an infantry unit?’
‘But it’s already issued to the infantry.’
‘In tablets.’ Johnny had administered it many times at the front. ‘What if we sent it in powder form, a couple of pounds should do? It would certainly mean the officer who signs for it would have some very difficult questions to answer. Once I’ve made my poi
nt, I’ll get it returned.’
‘As you will,’ Gabrielle stood up. ‘I need to get back, you can send me a note – on HQ stationery.’
She smiled enigmatically.
Chapter 41
Johnny waited obediently while Sir George finished having dinner. He was putting on a show for the First Lord of the Admiralty’s brother and Johnny was playing his part as the dutiful servant, being called to heel.
After jam roly poly, Sir George beckoned him to the table with a twirl of his hand.
‘Swift, what the hell do you want?’
‘Sorry to disturb you at the club, Sir George, I have some documents that require your urgent attention.’ Johnny handed a dossier to Sir George, who took them with a self-important flourish.
He felt a glint of fear as Sir George took the money orders out and started to flick through them.
‘Shop in the Club, again. Disgraceful.’ The Major gave Johnny a filthy look. He was the type who would cheerfully wring Johnny’s neck and then buy him a drink for being a good sport about it.
‘Sorry Churchill, this can’t wait the Expeditionary Force is short of just about everything, from boats to water containers.’ Sir George said and held a hand out to Johnny, who gave him a fountain pen. Like the last time, Sir George was too busy trying to look important to pay any attention to what he was signing.
‘Would you mind witnessing?’ Sir George passed Churchill the documents. He took them with a deep sigh and began to sign them.
‘Hello what’s this?’ Churchill snapped and Johnny’s heart stopped.
‘What’s what?’ Sir George asked.
‘It’s covered in gibberish.’
Johnny relaxed, his language skills meant that he’d been made responsible for the never-ending pile of scrawled invoices that needed to be translated and collated.
‘You speak the local lingo?’ the Major asked.
‘I've picked up the odd smattering here and there, sir. My Turkish is better, but European languages are more my forte.’
‘Swift likes to show off at every given opportunity,’ Sir George said. ‘Well, off you go Swift, grown- ups are talking.’
Johnny reached down to retrieve the documents. Churchill grabbed his wrist and Johnny jumped out of his skin.
‘You do look familiar somehow.’
‘I told you, he’s my office boy,’ Sir George said indignantly.
‘Yes, of course,’ Churchill winked.
Johnny left his gentlemen’s outfitters and made his way along the Corniche, a bright seafront lined with grand Western style buildings that promised decadence and corruption to the promenading officers.
He entered the Palace Hotel and made his way through the gaudy lobby. Gabby was with a group of nurses who were smiling at him, the debonair officer. His growing excitement faded when she detached herself from the herd and led him onto the veranda.
‘Won’t your friends be joining us?’
‘Of course not! They’re only here because I couldn’t wait on my own in the lobby, anything might happen.’ Gabrielle said coyly.
‘You got my note then?’ Johnny asked as they settled at a table overlooking the Mediterranean.
Gabrielle gave him a mocking look. ‘It’s very convenient to meet in a hotel.’
‘Yes, I thought so.’ Johnny leered.
‘And you took the trouble to book a room?’ She asked and smiled at the inevitability of it. ‘So the scheme worked?’
‘Well he signed the requisition and it’s winging its way to stores. I’ll give it a day to be delivered then settle some old scores.’
‘And you will be sent to the front and eventually be killed in action?’
‘I say.’ Johnny was slightly taken aback then saw a hint of a smile on her face.
‘I cannot have another lover that could be dead or alive.’
‘Another, I thought your fiancé had been killed.’
‘No, it would seem that he is missing. Presumed dead.’
‘I didn’t realise or I wouldn’t have… honoured you quite so much.’
‘Yes you would have, but it would be selfish to continue our liaison if he is alive.’
‘Yes especially when there are so many other women craving my attention.’ Johnny said. She didn’t laugh.
‘Take this.’ She passed him a letter. ‘It is a note asking that I be informed if.’ She shrugged.
Johnny took the note and put it in his brass box.
‘Now would you like to talk about the feel of my opulent body against you, or the fever of my hips on you, and of course my intelligence and kindness?’ Gabrielle giggled at his embarrassment.
Johnny felt himself blush. He couldn’t believe that he’d exposed his feelings like that.
‘I was going into a dangerous situation and this is how you respond? Mocking my overtures of love?’ Johnny grinned back at her.
‘Well don’t just sit there, mon biquet, do you not wish to honour me one last time?’
Chapter 42
Johnny practically skipped through the lobby of the HQ building, ready to face another day of tedium and repetition, with a smile on his face and the certain knowledge that this would all soon be over.
He was pleased to find Williams waiting for him in his office. Even by his melancholic Welsh standards he was looking grimfaced.
‘Hello Williams, cheer up I’m getting out of here soon and I’ll take you with me!’ Johnny said trying to hide the ridiculous grin on his face.
‘You better get in there quick.’ Williams replied beckoning for him to follow.
‘What, where?’ Johnny asked following him up the grimy corridor.
‘You’ve really done it this time.’
‘I certainly have!’ Johnny’s mind was still on last night.
‘Crassus is here and he’s in with your C.O.’
‘Why? I sent his order yesterday.’
‘I’d rather not say anymore sir, Dawkins is still my officer and I can’t betray a confidence, same as I wouldn’t for you.’ Williams said coming to a stop outside Sir George’s office.
Johnny knocked on the door and confidently entered.
Crassus was standing at Sir George’s desk showing him a list. They both looked up in tandem as Johnny came in.
‘Good morning Sir George, what seems to be the problem?’ Johnny paused to look at the erotic frescoes above Sir George, they really were rather good and framed the pair perfectly contrasting their puritan indignation with the carefree abandon of the East.
‘I understand you’ve been up to your old tricks, Swift. I knew you’d come a cropper, just can't help yourself.’ Sir George let that fester for a moment, before continuing. ‘Luckily this gentleman showed a bit of due diligence.’
‘You certainly take me for a fool, Swift. I can’t believe your effrontery.’ Crassus snarled.
‘I don’t follow Crassus,’ Johnny said. ‘I had your request for supplies shipped out to you.’
‘How do you account for morphine being supplied to Lieutenant Dawkin’s brigade? Sir George asked indignantly.
‘I believe it’s issued to every soldier,’ Johnny said starting to realise the trouble he was in.
‘Not in this form, as you well know.’ Crassus said angrily.
‘Well how on Earth do you know that? Did you check the entire lot?’
‘Yes of course I did, Swift.’
‘You checked the entire consignment, for the whole brigade?’ Johnny couldn’t believe anyone would do something like that.
‘It’s the first thing my father taught me, always check the delivery, ain’t so funny now is it, being a grocer?’ Crassus scoffed. Sir George looked appalled.
‘To think I signed my name on such a document. Do you know how this makes me look?’
‘Because your family were opium traders?’ Johnny asked, stone faced.
‘How dare you,’ Sir George bellowed.
‘We have no doubt that this was some plot of yours to try and make us look like black
marketeers.’
‘You’re mistaken. I just got the paperwork confused. There is a lot of it and either you received the wrong consignment or the wrong items got attached to the requisition.’ Johnny said regaining his composure. ‘I’m sure Sir George would have read the documents before signing them and asking the First Lord of the Admiralty's brother to act as a witness. Especially with his family history, he couldn’t afford for it to be made known that he was shipping morphine to all and sundry, think of the scandal.’
Sir George frowned. ‘Perhaps we have been a little hasty, in this matter. I’m sure not even Swift would have tried something this reckless.’
‘Where did you get that uniform, Swift?’ Crassus asked scanning through another bundle of receipts.
‘My allowance from the War Office, came through.’ Johnny said. A cold shiver of panic embraced him.
‘Nonsense you’d never have got it that quickly.’ Sir George said, ‘what are you onto, Dawkins?’
‘Simply that you have signed a money order for it Sir George. Does rather make one wonder what else he has got you to sign. Betraying the position of trust you placed him in.’
Sir George picked up a familiar sheet of blue paper from his desk. ‘Well, I warned you what would happen, Swift. Lieutenant Dawkins, I leave it to you to discreetly bring Swift’s court martial to the attention of the authorities.’
‘Have no fear, Sir George, I’ll see that he gets what’s coming to him without embarrassing you or the First Lord’s brother.’ Crassus said gleefully.
Before Johnny could make a plea there was an abrupt knock at the door.
‘Come,’ Sir George bellowed.
A sergeant strode in. ‘Beg pardon, The Commander in Chief pays his respects and asks to see Lieutenant Swift.’
Sir George blushed. ‘What the hell!’
Jack Churchill was with Hamilton when the sergeant paraded Johnny in front of the Hamilton, with Crassus and Sir George following. Hamilton dismissed the sergeant and came round from behind his desk.
‘By God, it is him, Jack!’ Hamilton took Johnny’s hand. ‘Thank you so much for coming, Swift, I wanted to shake your hand. It was the damnedest thing I’ve seen in all my years soldiering, I can tell you.’
