The Lifeline

by Deborah Swift

  Karl leaned casually against the door jamb to listen as the messages were put out. Harris the W/T officer removed his headphones, and turned to Jørgen. ‘We intercepted one from the Germans early last week. It seems they were pursuing the agent, Nils, and managed to shoot him in the foot. That’s why he wants out. You’d better take first aid stuff; bandages and morphine.’

  Harris drew his notebook towards him. ‘The other three might not make it to the rendezvous point in time. They’re coming across country.’

  ‘What other three?’ Karl asked.

  ‘The Sivorg teacher and the Jewish man. There’s a child too,’ Harris said.

  Karl frowned and glared at Jørgen. ‘A child? Did you know about this?’

  Harris tapped his pencil on the desk. ‘If the other three are not there by the time the boat lands, Harcourt says you’ll have to return without them. We just can’t risk the Nazis getting our agent. Too much sensitive information.’

  Karl immediately headed out.

  As Jørgen came out of the W/T office Karl was waiting for him. ‘When were you going to tell me?’ he said. ‘I thought it was just a weapon drop. Everyone treats me as a second-class citizen just because I haven’t trained at Drumintoul Lodge like the rest of you.’

  ‘That’s nonsense. You only decided you wanted to crew a few days ago. Harcourt’s not like the Nazis; he doesn’t force people to do things they don’t want to do.’

  Karl frowned. ‘So who are we picking up?’

  ‘A W/T op and three civilians, like Harris said.’ He didn’t tell him it was Astrid, or that knowing Astrid would be on board changed everything for him.

  ‘Where will we be landing?’ Karl asked.

  ‘A small island called Radøy, off Saebo.’

  Karl nodded, took out a notebook and wrote it down.

  CHAPTER 28

  Astrid slept well but woke early worrying about the distance they had to travel. After a meagre meal of rye bread with a sliver of yellow cheese, the farmer gave them maps, and supplied them with old wooden skis for Isaak and Sara. At first it was just cross-country skiing on the flat, and with a few mishaps they managed pretty well.

  Isaak was amazed by the efficiency of skis, as opposed to walking. ‘If it wasn’t for the fact of the Nazis,’ he said, his face pink and his eyes bright, ‘I’d be quite enjoying this.’

  ‘Look Pappa!’ Sara shouted as she hurtled on ahead, arms going like windmills.

  ‘Tell her to slow down,’ Astrid said. ‘She’ll wear herself out!’

  True enough, the initial euphoria soon wore off, and compared to Astrid the Feinbergs were slow movers. After a whole day on skis, their energy began to wane, and they grew breathless and tired.

  At night they reached their contact, and could do nothing but collapse into the sleep.

  The next day they passed through a network of isolated farm-houses and farming communes. The weather held out with only the occasional squall but it was still bitter, and their food rations were meagre for such hard work. Their new contact escorted them on skis to the next farmhouse in the chain. It was hard going, especially for Sara and Isaak who were unused to skiing.

  ‘I’ve got muscles on my muscles,’ Isaak said.

  Mostly Astrid led, but sometimes Isaak got ahead, and she was moved to see him doggedly tramping on, head down to the wind, with Sara struggling after, still carrying her bump of a pack, close on his heels. The winter conditions were exhausting, and more than once they had to seek respite from the driving blizzards in a goatherd’s hut.

  That third night it was more than minus twenty in the mountains, so they skied onwards to keep warm; and slept the next day in a hut when they were less in danger of freezing to death. On a couple of occasions, well-meaning farmers who felt sorry for Sara would take them a few miles further by car or cart. Without Sara, they would have been left to just get on with it.

  Having a child with them actually speeded, rather than slowed their progress, though Astrid was still counting the days.

  ‘I’m worried Isaak,’ she said. ‘The boat will be setting off now and heading for Norway. It’s a two day journey, and we’ve still got so far to go.’

  ‘Let’s look at that map again.’

  They looked over the distance they had to cover. There were more hills and mountain passes to navigate. Isaak refolded the map without a word, but she saw his face. He thought it was impossible too, but like her he was too stubborn to give up.

  ‘Let’s get going,’ he said.

  Astrid grew more on edge as the time ticked away. They had only made up a half hour in the whole day, and she had a headache like a vice with the thought they might miss their passage to England. ‘Four o’clock,’ she said, prompting Isaak and Sara to ski on, when they were tiring.

  ‘Don’t keep telling us. I’ll break that watch into pieces,’ Isaak said. ‘We’re going as fast as we can.’

  At one point Sara stumbled and he stopped, and he and Sara just slumped down where they were, in the snow, unpacking the last of their rations from the previous farm.

  ‘Please, don’t stop now,’ Astrid said. ‘We’re behind, and we need to find our next contact before dark. We can’t risk getting lost.’

  ‘Just fifteen minutes. Sara needs to eat, and my legs need a break. That last uphill stretch was a killer.’

  ‘Einar said we need to make Ålesund today by nightfall.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes won’t make any difference. Don’t forget you’ve got much longer legs than Sara.’

  ‘We can rest when we get there. We have to push on.’

  ‘What were you? Some sort of a slave master in a previous life? No. You go on without us if you must.’

  Astrid bit her lip, looked up the trail where it led uphill between pine and juniper. Of course she couldn’t go without them, and he knew it. ‘Sorry Isaak, it’s just —’

  ‘I know, I know. We have to make the boat.’

  He unpacked the last of the bread and gave it to Sara who leaned up against him and stared at it listlessly. ‘How much further, Pappa?’

  ‘A bit more walking today, and then a bit more the next day,’ Astrid said, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘I’m tired of it,’ Sara said, voice trembling. ‘I want to go home.’

  Isaak put his arm around Sara, and a haunted look came into his eyes. Astrid guessed he was thinking the same. They all wanted to go home, but they couldn’t. They were on this journey and had to stick it out to the end, wherever that was.

  Astrid did not sit, but kept on her feet anxious to be moving again. After Sara had finished eating they trudged onwards, until finally they saw the spires of Ålesund in the distance.

  Thank God. They’d make it to Ålesund before nightfall and they could spend a night with their contact there. Isaak consulted the map. Now they just had to go a few miles down a road instead of on the trail. She glanced up and down the road, her senses on high alert. Roads were a danger because of German traffic that might see them and stop them. She remembered Einar’s warning to go around the checkpoint. It must be close now.

  She looked at her watch again for the hundredth time, as an icy rain began to fall. Another half mile before they could turn off to the track heading for a small commune of farms lying on the outskirts of the town. From there their new contact would be able to take them down the fjord by boat.

  They pressed on as the weather worsened and they had to bend their heads against a freezing shower of icy hail. The clatter of the hail was so penetrating none of them heard the sound of the engine until it was too late.

  Astrid turned at the noise. A German truck was coming down the road towards them.

  ‘Keep going,’ Isaak said to Sara. To run would have looked more suspicious.

  The truck drew up alongside and two men jumped down from the back. The tallest one, a man with red-rimmed eyes and a nose that looked chapped with cold, waved a pistol at Isaak. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked in Norwegian.

  Isaak
hesitated only a fraction before answering, ‘My brother’s in the town. He’s a boatbuilder.’

  ‘Papers?’

  It was the moment they dreaded. Astrid slipped her hand into Sara’s and squeezed it tight though the woollen mitten. Isaak gestured at her to get her Reisepass out, as they had arranged. Then he put the two passes together, hers on top, and handed them over. ‘We weren’t expecting such weather,’ Isaak said. ‘The train to Ålesund was cancelled.’

  The man was looking at the papers whilst his friend stamped his feet and blew on his hands. ‘You’ve walked from Oslo?’

  ‘No.’ Isaak laughed. ‘From there to Dombås station, then to Andalsnes.’

  ‘Why you ski, if you were travel by train?’

  Astrid stepped forward, pretending to be aggrieved. ‘His brother’s farmstead is in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it? And even with the train we would still have thirty miles to cover on foot. No-one has cars any more. I told Ove it was a stupid idea, this visit, and now look, the train won’t go, and the weather’s turned against us.’

  ‘Where is this farm?’ the German asked, narrowing his eyes.

  ‘Volda,’ Astrid said scathingly. ‘A dead-end place if ever there was one.’

  ‘Don’t argue, Mamma,’ Sara said. ‘Please. You know I hate it.’

  The German tilted his head down to Sara. ‘Do you like your uncle? Are you looking forward to visiting him?’

  ‘He’s all right. But Aunt Hilde always bakes a cake when we come visit. And she lets me feed the chickens, and she’s got a dog called Runa.’

  A horn blast from the man in the truck. The other man waiting put a hand on his friend’s arm. ‘Come on, Norbert, it’s foul out here. Let’s not stand in the wet. They seem all right.’

  The other man glanced at the papers again before handing them back and took out a notebook where he scribbled something down. ‘All right, Herr Dahl. I’ve made a note of your names. Report to the Kommandant at Command Headquarters in Ålesund when you arrive and give him your address. He’ll keep your papers during your stay. We need to know your place of residence. I’ll make a note of the fact we’ve spoken to you. Heil Hitler.’

  ‘Heil Hitler!’ Sara replied with rather too much enthusiasm.

  They men climbed back in the truck and drove away.

  ‘A dog called Runa? And Aunt Hilde?’ Isaak said to Sara accusingly. ‘You don’t have an Aunt Hilde.’ He lifted her up and swung her around in a hug.

  Astrid grinned. She’d underestimated Sara and her ability to read a situation even at ten years old. ‘She was a star. Let’s hope our contact has a cake and chickens, hey?’

  ‘I just said the first thing that came into my head,’ Sara said.

  ‘Who knew I’d bred such a little liar?’ Isaak replied. ‘But don’t try it on with me, will you?’ He grinned and gave her a mock punch.

  After a few minutes of studying the map again, they set off, into the bluster. Their tread was lighter now, they were giddy with the thrill of getting away with it.

  Isaak hurried to catch up, and stopped Astrid with a hand on her shoulder. ‘You were right, Astrid. I’m sorry. Having Sara on your pass was a good idea. I was just pig-headed before. Without you, we would have been much more suspicious, a man and a little girl, with no woman with them.’

  ‘It’s all right. You were worried, that’s all.’

  After another two hours walking they passed a small church where they stopped to drink some meltwater, before turning into a farm track deep in snow. There were compressions where a tractor must have gone, and it made it easier walking, though by now even Astrid was tiring, and dusk was upon them.

  When the collection of farm buildings farm came into view Sara whooped.

  ‘Let’s find those chickens!’ Astrid said.

  ‘And the dog!’ Sara said, excited.

  Their exultation was short lived. When they reached the farm they found it deserted. Their knocking brought no-one. Astrid peered through the farmhouse window but there was no sign of life. ‘But I saw tracks, from a tractor or a truck,’ Astrid said. ‘Maybe they’ve just gone out.’ Her disappointment at their lack of welcome was a sharp ache in her chest. How would they get down the fjord now? The contact was supposed to take them by boat.

  ‘Why don’t you and Sara take shelter in that barn, and I’ll take a recce?’ Isaak said. He pushed on the door handle and it opened. ‘Stay here.’ With a warning glance, he disappeared into the blackness.

  After about five minutes, he was outside again. ‘The place has been thoroughly ransacked. Like a burglary. I don’t like the look of it.’ He set off again across the muddy yard towards the other outbuildings. She heard him call out, ‘Hello?’ but obviously he got no answer, because he continued to the second shed about fifty yards away.

  Astrid took Sara under the dripping eaves of the barn which was a corrugated iron roof over a stack of hay bales and a half-used pile of wood. An axe was stuck in a big stump as if it had been recently used, but there was no sign of any animals. She could hear lowing in the distance though, and the frenzied bleating of goats.

  About ten minutes later he was back, his face white and drawn. ‘Bad news,’ he said.

  ‘Isn’t there anyone there either?’ Sara asked.

  ‘Let me just talk to Miss Dahl a moment,’ he said, drawing her out of Sara’s earshot.

  ‘What’s the matter? Won’t they let us stay?’ Astrid asked.

  ‘It’s worse,’ he whispered. ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘Dead? How do you know?’

  ‘His body is there, by the cowshed. He’s been deliberately executed. You can see the bullet-holes in the wall. The blood. Everything.’

  ‘My God. What shall we do?’

  ‘We can’t stay here. They might come back. It can only be the Germans. No Norwegian would do that.’ He turned so Sara could not hear him whisper, ‘They’ve left the body there to rot, not even given him a burial. The cows and goats are still in the barn over there. I threw in some hay and opened the door so they could get out to forage and get water.’

  ‘What shall we do? Shall we tell someone?’ As soon as she’d said the words she knew they were stupid words. There was no-one they could tell. No-one they could trust.

  Isaak’s face was grim. ‘It could be because they found out about him sheltering people like us, in which case…’

  ‘Pappa? What’s happening?’

  ‘We need to move on again,’ he said.

  ‘They killed him, didn’t they?’ Sara said. ‘I heard you.’

  ‘It’s all right, darling,’ he said, shushing her. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay here!’

  He sighed. ‘We can’t go far tonight, we need shelter. The weather’s turned against us and darkness is already setting in. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll just get a few hours’ sleep and move on in the morning when its light.’

  Astrid agreed with Sara, though she could see they had few options now the wind and rain were battering on the roof. ‘I don’t know. This place gives me the creeps. But I suppose so, as long as one of us listens out for the sound of a car. Is there a fireplace? Wood?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t think we should light a fire,’ Isaak said. ‘Someone might see it.’

  Astrid sighed. ‘Guess it’s here in the barn then.’

  ‘I’ll take the flashlight and go and see if there’s anything useful left in the house.’

  Astrid helped to bed Sara down amongst the hay, and made up a story to help her sleep. That whispered conversation with her father was enough to give any child nightmares.

  When Isaak returned he sat down close to her. ‘I found this,’ he said in a low voice. He opened his hand, and there was a pistol lying in it.

  The sight of it startled her. ‘Is it loaded?’

  ‘Not yet. But I found bullets in the same place. Stuffed right down under the cushion of the sofa.’

  ‘Whatever made you look there?’ Astrid asked. />
  ‘I was looking for money,’ he said sheepishly. ‘My grandma used to keep her money there. She was scared of the Nazis taking it so she literally sat on it.’

  ‘Is she still alive?’

  ‘No. She died before they started sanctions against us in Germany. Before the beatings and the smashing of shops. Good thing, she would have been horrified.’

  Astrid looked down at the gun. He was holding it gingerly as if it might bite. ‘Have you ever fired a gun?’

  ‘No. I’m going to load it though, so I’m just warning you I have it. I wouldn’t use it unless it was desperate. It’s just like … like insurance.’

  ‘Is it supposed to make me feel safer, that you have a loaded gun? Because somehow it doesn’t.’

  ‘It’s only in case they come back. And I don’t know if I could use it. I’m probably a lousy shot.’

  CHAPTER 29

  Jørgen inhaled the salt breeze of the open sea. Out from Scalloway the wind was about thirty-five knots and there was a heavy swell. They were a crew of six, which included him and Karl, and experienced crew members, Lars, Johan, Dag and Sven. Two of them, Lars and Johan, had done this trip before, but Dag and Sven, bearded brothers from Bergen, were new to this particular route. They were all dressed in British naval uniform under their overalls. Supposedly this might help them, if captured by the Nazis.

  He glanced over to where Karl was tying off a rope. He had his usual devil-may-care expression, but Jørgen was grateful for his muscle; he seemed to relish hauling the rear sail that gave the boat stability in the rough seas, and made the heavy work of loading barrels full of weapons look easy.

  When a storm blew up, Jørgen had no more time to worry about Karl; he was too busy keeping control, and it took all his grit to contain his fear, and to give orders through the lash of salt-spray and wind. The pitching and rolling, though uncomfortable, didn’t put him off course and the previous sorties had made him used to sailing without lights in the pitch black. They all knew that as they neared the Norwegian coast, any lights would draw the Nazi patrols like moths to a flame.