The Secrets of Latimer House

by Jules Wake

  ‘I believe that this location was chosen because although it is a reasonable distance from London, this area is as far from the sea in any direction as is possible in Britain. I would imagine it would limit escape attempts.’

  ‘Are there many?’

  ‘Some of the prisoners occasionally talk about it. I’ve heard them but,’ he shrugged his shoulders, gripping the handlebars of his borrowed bicycle, ‘it is difficult when they don’t know where they are. Most never see the house as they only stay for a little while. We only keep the interesting prisoners for a little longer. Come on, let me show you the English countryside.’

  He led the way and she followed, grateful for his thoughtful slow pace, which allowed her to look around. Everything seemed so green, from the lush fronds of grass bordering the sides of the lane through to the different-shaped leaves on the trees through which dappled sunlight danced on the road. Around them endless fields curved and undulated along the valley. The only sound was the chattering of the birds in the copse to their right and the light breeze rustling the among the branches. Occasionally a rabbit, its white tail bobbing in alarm, would dart out of the hedgerow and scurry along the road ahead of them before racing away out of sight again.

  She lifted her face up to the sun, wobbling slightly on her bicycle, breathing in the slightly sweet air, perfumed by the damp undergrowth of the hedgerows running alongside the road. Every now and then Walther would glance back over his shoulder to make sure she was still with him, but she was enjoying the steady pace and smiled back at him. Was it cowardly to be glad that they couldn’t talk so much like this? She had no idea what to say to him. Apart from her father, she hadn’t known many men. The only ones she’d met in England were either commanding officers or had treated her with suspicion the minute they realised she was German. One of the things she really liked about being at Latimer House was that it didn’t matter that she was German. She suddenly grinned to herself, unaccountably content. She fitted in there.

  Up ahead Walther slowed and pointed across the fields. As she came to a halt she could see Latimer House across the valley on the other side of the river. Squinting, she tried to make out the rooftop spot that had become her, Evelyn’s and Betty’s personal balcony. It warmed her to think that only the three of them knew of their little lookout. The three of them, she liked the way that sounded.

  Ahead there was a left turn and then a bit of a climb which had her pedalling hard, rising up to stand on her pedals, feeling unused muscles in her thighs complaining, but she was determined not to say a word. At the top Walther stopped and turned to wait for her, watching her huffing and puffing as she made her slow progress to the crest of the hill. So much for Betty being determined that she should look her best, she probably looked like a tomato and sounded like a locomotive train.

  ‘Well done,’ said Walther. ‘Most people would have given up and walked. I’m very impressed by your determination.’ He grinned at her. ‘You are a very surprising woman, Judith.’

  A small glow of happiness set up camp in her chest. These compliments meant far more to her than being told she looked nice. It showed that Walther valued her for who she was.

  ‘And you look beautiful,’ he added shyly, ducking his head and turning back to his bicycle.

  Judith clasped a hand to her blushing cheek. Perhaps she wasn’t as immune to comments about her personal appearance as she’d thought.

  Amersham was a handsome little town spread out along a wide, cobbled high street and Judith was fascinated by how varied the houses were, some small, some large, and how different they were from the ones she’d known in Germany. When she exclaimed over them, Walther proved particularly knowledgeable.

  ‘This is from the Regency period,’ he said, pointing to one whitewashed, grand double-fronted house with tall, straight windows. ‘When the kings of England were Hanoverians and a German ruled Britain.’ He laughed. ‘Although the current royal family only changed their name from Saxe-Coburg in 1917. Prince Albert was German. That’s not so long ago. It seems madness that our two countries are at war when our royal families are so close.’

  ‘But it’s not the country, is it?’ Judith hadn’t talked of such things since she’d left Germany. ‘It’s the regime, the politics. We lived peaceably in Germany before Hitler and his stormtroopers rose to prominence.’

  Their conversation about politics and history took them all the way to the end of the street.

  ‘Would you mind if we called in on some friends of mine?’

  ‘Friends?’ She immediately recoiled, shy at the prospect.

  ‘Yes, they are friends of friends of my parents and they live here. At the top of the hill, so this time we’ll walk.’

  When Judith saw the hill, she was extremely grateful. Her legs ached just walking up there. However, the reward was not only the view but also the very grand house that Walther led her towards. It stood apart from its neighbours with garden on every side and a wide, gravelled drive to the left. She looked up at the tall, triangular-gabled front and guessed that the house wasn’t terribly old as Walther led her to the big wooden front door tucked into an arched porchway.

  He rapped firmly with the brass knocker and she was strangely touched to see the mezuzah fixed to the doorpost. She never thought of herself as particularly religious but it brought back memories of visiting friends with her father.

  ‘Walther, how lovely to see you, and you’ve brought a lady friend.’ The woman who opened the door was tall, angular and full of smiles, her eyes dancing with delight. ‘Come in. Come in. You will stay for lunch, won’t you?’

  Walter looked at Judith. ‘Would that be all right?’

  She nodded, a little dazed by the exuberant friendliness as they were ushered inside the house. Stopping in the doorway, she kissed her finger and touched the mezuzah in grateful prayer for the warm welcome.

  ‘Ah, another refugee. From Germany? I’m Mary Kirchener.’ She held out a hand and gave Judith a surprisingly strong handshake from such skinny wrists. Judith smiled, finding her tongue had lost its way, and was grateful when Walther introduced her. ‘This is my friend, Judith Stern.’

  Luckily Mary didn’t seem to mind or notice.

  ‘You are most welcome. I’m glad Walther has a friend at work because we don’t see him so often. They make him work so hard there.’ She tsked and was already holding open a door into a big kitchen dominated by a large table in the middle.

  ‘Then it’s a good job I enjoy my work, Mary.’

  She turned to Judith. ‘How long have you been in Britain?’

  Swallowing some of the dryness of her mouth away, this time she managed to respond. ‘Since December 1938.’

  ‘Ah, Kristallnacht.’ Mary shook her head and patted Judith’s arm in understanding before turning to Walther. ‘Come see the garden, Walther. You’ll be impressed.’

  She led them out of the back door into an enormous garden, which was organised into neat plots of vegetables and fruit trees. One corner fenced off from the rest of the area was filled with several chickens. Their enthusiastic host turned to Judith. ‘We’re digging for victory. That’s my daughter-in-law, her two sons and my brother and his wife.’ She pointed to the various people hard at work in the garden. ‘My husband works in London. He’s a scientist. I’m not allowed to know what he’s doing but I know it’s important war work.’ With a gay laugh, she led them down one of the paths and gave them a knowledgeable tour of the garden, pointing out cauliflowers and cabbages, beans and peas, apple and pear trees, raspberry canes and blackcurrant bushes, along the way introducing them to her extended family at various vegetable beds, who all greeted them with friendly warmth and paused from their weeding, hoeing and planting to chat. It almost seemed like normal life and Judith’s natural shyness began to dissipate under the warmth of Mary’s benign charm.

  They sat down around a large wooden table to a noisy, cheerful family lunch with rabbit pie, fresh carrots from the garden, roasted potatoes and green
beans, and Judith couldn’t remember when she’d eaten so well. Mary was a wonderful cook and afterwards there were tart fruit compotes with creamy unsweetened custard which balanced the sharpness of the fruit perfectly.

  Long after they’d finished eating they sat talking about everything, from the planes they saw flying overhead towards London and a near miss when a bomb fell two streets away – Judith and Walther exchanged a brief glance at that point – through to music and theatre. The Kirchener family loved the arts and there were several lively debates about favourite plays and operas they’d all seen. It was obviously a regular topic of discussion. Judith sighed in her chair, basking in the simple delight of people talking openly, sharing opinions and teasing each other. She even joined in on a couple of occasions, voicing her own views, which she rarely did anymore. Once upon a time, mealtimes like this had been the norm in her life.

  ‘You really ought to go up to London,’ said Mary, turning to her when Walther said that today was Judith’s first foray beyond Latimer. ‘To the National Gallery. They have lunchtime concerts there. Although the Amersham playhouse puts on a play every week. Sally Latimer and Caryl Jenner who run the place are absolute marvels. Two young women and they put on a new play every week.’

  ‘I saw Blithe Spirit and it was excellent good,’ chipped in Gisela Kirchener, Mary’s daughter-in-law.

  Judith sat quietly like a piece of blotting paper, soaking up the family atmosphere, remembering dinners with her father and her aunt and their friends. A little glow warmed her. Life did go on. You could make new memories. When you were so caught up in the past you forgot to focus on living. For the last four years she’d been too scared of loss to let herself experience the positives in life. Looking up, she saw Walther watching her, a gentle smile on his face, and she smiled back at him. For a few brief seconds it was as if there were just the two of them in the room. Had he known how much she needed this? Even she hadn’t realised it. She had a burning urge to thank him, to tell him how happy she was in this moment; and something else, that she’d never experienced before, a sudden need to hold him and be held by him. The feeling sideswiped her, making her light-headed and even a little breathless as she stared at him across the table. After that she couldn’t seem to stop herself sneaking peeks at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. It was as if she’d developed a strange hunger to commit his face to memory.

  ‘Don’t you think, Judith?’ asked Gisela.

  ‘Er…’ She looked around the table, not having a clue what she’d been asked.

  ‘I think it’s time that we went back to the camp,’ said Walther, rising to his feet, thankfully taking the attention away from her. ‘We’re on duty again tomorrow.’

  Judith nodded gratefully, although the thought of being alone again with Walther made her stomach feel as if it held a bagful of rabbits.

  ‘You must come again. Seriously, Judith, you’re welcome any time. I know how difficult it is when you don’t have your family around you. Here, you are always welcome.’ She swept Judith into a motherly hug that brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Thank you. That’s so kind of you. I’ve had the most wonderful afternoon.’

  ‘It’s been wonderful having you, and I mean it. I expect to see you again. Don’t be shy.’ She patted Judith on the cheek just like her aunt used to do.

  They left to a chorus of goodbyes from the family and rode out onto the street.

  ‘Downhill all the way,’ said Walther, sighing happily, cycling alongside her. ‘Just as well, after all that food.’

  ‘They were so lovely,’ said Judith, glancing back at the house, which made her wobble a bit. ‘Thank you very much for taking me to see your friends. It was a very special afternoon.’

  ‘I took you to meet my family,’ he said, his eyes rich with meaning, meeting hers.

  Judith’s rabbits exploded out of their bag, hopping about with spring abandon in her stomach. She stared at him, unable to say a word. With a sudden grin, he pedalled into the lead and sped off down the hill.

  It really was downhill all the way and the journey home was much quicker, as she followed in his wake the whole trip back to Latimer. Her nerves began to hum as they approached the back entrance of the house by the kitchens, where they were to return the bicycles to Elsie.

  Walther dismounted first and propped his bike by the wall, reaching out to take hers as she hopped down. Without the barrier of the bicycle, she felt a little exposed, awkward. Betty would know exactly what to do in this sort of situation, Evelyn too. Her shoes were dusty, she realised. They needed a clean. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. Her hands were shaking and she tucked one behind her back and clamped the other to her side.

  ‘Thank you, Judith, for a lovely day,’ said Walther, his voice a little husky as he took a few steps to stand in front of her. She studied the two pairs of shoes, the toes mere inches apart, and somehow managed to find the courage to look up.

  There was a gentle quirk to his mouth and a tender expression in his face. ‘Dear Judith.’ He reached up and touched her face, ‘Would you come out with me again?’

  His fingers were warm on her cheek, his eyes locked onto hers and she couldn’t have moved if her life had depended on it. It was wonderful, terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

  ‘Y-yes,’ she stammered, the breath trapped in her chest.

  ‘May I kiss you?’

  Her mouth dropped open but she nodded, too stunned to speak.

  His arms slid around her waist and he smiled as he lowered his mouth to hers, and it was simply heaven. The softness of his lips on hers was silk, feathers and satin, every gorgeous thing she could think of, and she likened being in his arms to finally arriving home after a never-ending journey.

  Although it was the merest whisper of a kiss, she had to clutch his arms to stay upright.

  ‘I’ve never been kissed before,’ she blurted out.

  Walther laughed. ‘And how was it?’

  She gazed up at him. ‘Wonderful.’

  His hands tightened at her waist. ‘That’s good, because I’d like to do it again very soon. With your permission, of course.’

  His hand slid to her face again and he smiled down at her, which made her heart, already struggling to beat normally, flutter in her chest. ‘Would you like to come for a walk with me tomorrow after our shift has finished?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, realising that her tongue was completely tied in knots and she hadn’t spoken to him with more than one word since they’d arrived back at Latimer, but all she could do was gaze back at him, still not able to believe the unfamiliar tumble of happiness cartwheeling through her system.

  ‘Ah, you’re back and the bicycles are all in one piece. The Vicar will be pleased.’

  Walther’s hand dropped away and they both turned, stiffening at the sound of Elsie’s ever-cheerful voice.

  ‘Nice day?’ she asked, stepping out onto the top step, looking up at them.

  ‘Very nice,’ said Walther, regaining his equilibrium far quicker than Judith, although to be honest, hers had been shattered ever since they’d left Mary’s house. ‘Thank you so much for the loan of the bicycles. I wonder if we might borrow them again in a couple of weeks’ time? We’ll probably catch the train to London for the day.’

  ‘Not a problem, as long as I have some notice. Now, I’ve got a nice pot of tea on the go in the Sergeants’ Mess, if you fancy it. I bet after all that cycling, you could do with wetting your whistle.’

  ‘A cup of tea would be excellent,’ said Walther, with a wink at Judith, who had no idea what whistles had to do with anything, but was relieved that everything seemed normal again and she could stand without her knees threatening to give way.

  Chapter Twenty

  Betty

  ‘Morning, Betty.’

  She jumped out of her skin. ‘Sir!’ She’d been absorbed in her reading, frowning over a particular passage, trying to remember another transcript where a prisoner confirmed the
same details about a U-boat gun emplacement.

  Major Carl Wendermeyer grinned down at her from his lofty six-foot-plus height and even though she’d been feeling fragile of late she couldn’t help smiling back. He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen and he smelled good – clean, and of fir trees or something like that.

  ‘How’s that hand of yours?’

  ‘Much better, thank you. And thank you for the iced water. That was … er … very thoughtful.’ She hadn’t known that a man could be thoughtful and as she stared up at him, she was a little disconcerted by the sudden softness in his blue eyes when he sat down on the edge of her desk.

  ‘Mighty glad to be of assistance. And if there’s anything else I can do, I’d only be too happy to oblige.’ He crossed his legs as if he were preparing to make himself comfortable.

  ‘I don’t think you or anyone else can help,’ she said with a brittle smile. ‘But thank you for offering.’ She was pinning all her hopes on Evelyn’s brother’s service revolver, but that would only keep her safe for so long.

  ‘Are you sure? A problem shared is a problem halved, so they say.’

  ‘I’ve never heard anyone say that before,’ she said honestly.

  ‘I think it’s a Stateside thing, but I also happen to think it’s true. Sure you can’t unburden yourself to me?’

  When he lowered his voice in that confiding way, it was so tempting, but what could she possibly say that didn’t show her up for what she was? A nobody from the village. So instead she firmed her lips in a prim line, smiled prettily at him and shook her head, not willing to trust her voice.

  And God forgive her, but she couldn’t help being a touch gratified to see that he looked a little disappointed.

  ‘OK then, so we’d better get down to work. There’s a meeting I’d like you to attend with me. They’re discussing recent intelligence reports and I think you might find it interesting.’