War's Last Dance

by Julia Underwood

  The dog staggered to his feet, nursing the front paw, and licked Isabel with his rough tongue.

  ‘Come on, boy, let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll bathe your poor head for you.’

  Within a few moments she had diluted some Dettol in a bowl of warm water and was bathing Prince’s wound with a piece of cotton wool from the First Aid kit kept in the larder, crooning to the dog as she worked.

  ‘There, there,’ she said. ‘Look, it’s not too bad, just messy. Now give me your paw. Oh dear, you’ve lost some skin there too, it does look sore. It’ll be better soon.’ She bathed the foot and wrapped it tightly in a gauze bandage. ‘Now, leave that alone, it’ll help to keep it clean.’ She patted the dog reassuringly and he relaxed with a deep sigh into his box lined with a blanket, in the corner near the oven.

  This distraction caused her to forget for a moment, but as she completed her task and petted the dog everything came rushing back to her in a great wave of emotion. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  ‘Oh, God, I was almost forgetting about Penny. I was so happy to see Prince again. We must get on to the police. Is the phone working yet? Those MPs will be round soon. I’m not looking forward to Major Goddard.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let him bully you,’ said John.

  She was throwing away the blood-stained Dettol and cotton wool as she spoke. John came up and put an arm around her.

  ‘Calm down, Isabel,’ he said. ‘Go and get dressed and I’ll get on to the police and try to get hold of Bill in Hanover. He needs to know what’s happening.’

  Surprised, Isabel looked down. She had forgotten that she wasn’t dressed yet. She left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the bathroom, clinging to the banisters as if her life depended on their support.

  She felt much better after a wash and change of clothes. As she prepared to leave her room the sound of the bell reached her. That’ll be Goddard and his men, they’re early.

  Irma was already at the door. The visitor wasn’t the MPs but Zelda, bringing with her a whirl of snow and energy.

  ‘Darling! There you are. Oh my poor baby, how can you bear it?’

  ‘You’ve heard about Penny?’ Isabel asked, puzzled, ‘so soon.’

  ‘Yes, dear, Hank told me, first thing, when he came to get Chuck. We’re both devastated. Chuck says if there’s anything he can do, anything...’

  Zelda, always immaculate even at this early hour, enveloped Isabel in her mink-clad arms, exuding exotic scents.

  ‘Let’s go into the drawing room,’ she said, ‘sit down and talk about it. What’s being done? Have you heard anything yet?’ Arm in arm they went and sat by the newly-lit fire. Irma was tidying cups and cushions from last night.

  They heard the click as John replaced the receiver and he joined them in the lounge.

  ‘Oh, John, you’re here,’ said Zelda, raising one questioning eyebrow.

  ‘Yes, I went round to see him last night,’ Isabel explained. ‘I had to. The phone wasn’t working so Hank took me to John’s flat in the Jeep. They were supposed to be going to a dance. I explained it all to John and he got the MPs. He kindly brought me home and stayed the night. The MPs will be here again any minute.’

  ‘‘Morning, Zelda,’ said John. ‘You’ll be glad to hear that your phone’s on again, Isabel. I tried to get hold of Bill but he wasn’t around so I left a message at HQ Hanover. We’ll hear from him later. I also called the Polizei and they said Goddard’s Sergeant had already been in touch. But they’re very busy, something about all the snow, and they can’t spare more than a couple of men. We’ll have to see who turns up.’

  Irma brought them coffee and they drank it whilst Isabel retold the story of Penny’s disappearance and answered Zelda’s many questions.

  ‘Aw, poor Penny and poor Prince too. What can I do, honey? Is there anything...?’

  ‘Thank you, Zelda, but there’s nothing at the moment. We’re waiting for Major Goddard and he’s going to organise a search and a house-to-house; questioning the neighbours, I think. Maybe we’ll find out something. Of course your moral support is always welcome. Stay and hold my hand, do.’ Isabel’s fugitive smile told Zelda all she needed to know.

  ‘You betcha, honey, I’ll be here for as long as you need me.’

  The telephone rang, but it was only the Polizei to say they were on their way and would be at the house within the hour, snow permitting. There was nothing from Hanover. Isabel felt that Bill was deliberately avoiding the message and didn’t want to hear about Penny’s disappearance. What would he do? Could he just leave the conference and come to Berlin to help find his daughter? A steely resolve swept over her. No, she thought, I can do this alone, with John, I don’t need Bill’s help, he can stay at his Intelligence conference for as long as he likes.

  The strident bell broke into her thoughts. Since Irma had retreated to the kitchen John went to answer the door. Isabel heard murmured voices from the hall, but stayed on the sofa close to Zelda. John came into the room followed by Major Goddard and two private soldiers with MP armbands and white holsters at their hips carrying side arms. They scanned their surroundings uncomfortably.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Barton,’ said Goddard in his usual gruff tones. ‘I hope you slept well.’

  ‘Not really, Major Goddard,’ replied Isabel. ‘But thank you for your concern.’ The man’s only trying to be pleasant, she thought, he’s just not very good at it.

  ‘I thought we’d have a look around your flat first, get the lie of the land, so to speak.’

  ‘They’ve already searched the flat from top to bottom,’ said John. ‘I really don’t think there’s anything to be gained by doing it again.’

  ‘You never know,’ said the Major ‘there may be something that you missed.’

  ‘All right,’ said John. ‘As you wish.’

  ‘What about the apartment upstairs? Have you looked there?’

  ‘No. That’s Dennis Masters’ apartment. He’s on civilian secondment and probably at work by now. The rooms are kept locked.’ John glanced at Isabel. ‘Most of the time, anyway. Did you check, Isabel, when you were looking for Penny?’

  ‘Yes, Irma and I looked everywhere. Dennis’s rooms were locked then. But he will have come back to sleep. He’s up there now for all I know. I haven’t heard him leave.’

  ‘Right,’ said the Major. ‘We can leave that for now.’ He turned to his men. ‘You two, go and search this apartment again. Be thorough, mind; see if anything’s been missed.’

  ‘Sir,’ said one of the privates and they marched off, their boots striking loudly on the wooden hall floor. I must go and warn Irma, Isabel thought, she’ll be terrified when those armed soldiers charge into the kitchen. She rose and started to leave the room.

  ‘Where are you going, Mrs Barton?’

  ‘I’ve got to warn the maid about the men. She’s in the kitchen.’

  ‘All right, but please be quick,’ said Goddard. ‘We have a lot to do.’

  John looked at Isabel quizzically. Her wan smile showed him that she understood his concern.

  ‘It’s all right, John. I knew it would be like this.’

  I’ve got to be practical, she thought. Do whatever is necessary. Getting hysterical won’t help Penny.

  But there was little she could do whilst the MPs searched the house. She could see that the soldiers were trying to be tactful, but of necessity they had to move furniture around. Even the huge wardrobe in her room was shifted so that they could look behind it after riffling through her clothes and moving her shoes about. They crawled under the beds and dragged out the trunks from the storage room, put there after their arrival from England. But, as Isabel already knew, Penny was not to be found.

  They returned to the drawing room and shuffled around looking embarrassed, probably dreading to go out into the cold again.

  ‘She’s not in the apartment,’ announced Major Goddard.

  ‘I know,’ said Isabel suppressing a futile sigh.

  ‘We�
�ll start questioning passers-by. I’ll get a verbal report from the Polizei to see if they’ve found out anything in their house-to-house. I will keep you informed.’ He snapped to attention, saluted and left the room abruptly, the soldiers following. They gathered their outer clothing and left, slamming the door so that the wooden panel masking the gun-fire damage rattled like distant castanets.

  ‘Well! That wasn’t very helpful,’ said John, without getting up from the armchair by the fire where he was pretending to read an old newspaper. ‘I suppose they’ll be back later if they find out anything.’ He looked up at Isabel, who seemed to be visibly wilting, distant and not able to concentrate on what was happening.

  John stood up and turned to the drinks cupboard. ‘I think it’s time for a drink, it’s nearly lunchtime and it couldn’t do any harm. You too, Zelda?’

  ‘Yes, please John, that’s a great idea. A G and T please.’ Zelda emerged from the sunken springs of the sofa from where she had been silently observing events. ‘Then I must go home for a bit, Isabel honey. I’ve got to supervise the twins’ lunch and get them down for their nap. I won’t be long.’

  John poured the drinks and he and Zelda sipped theirs, but Isabel threw the gin down her throat in one gulp as an alcoholic might and stood with the empty glass outstretched in her hand, ready for another.

  ‘Steady on, old thing. I think one’s enough for now.’

  Hardly conscious of what she was doing, Isabel stood in the middle of the room like a zombie; glass suspended in the air, pointing in John’s direction. He took it from her gently. Zelda came up and gave her a hug.

  ‘I’m off for now, Isabel. I’ll brief the maid that I may out of the house for a while and then I’ll come back. Try not to worry too much, it won’t help.’

  They soon heard the sound of the front door closing behind Zelda. Dazed, Isabel shook her head and seemed to register her surroundings again.

  ‘Oh, John! I’m frightened we’ll never find my baby, never see her again!’

  ‘Sit down, Isabel. There’s nothing we can do now. We’ll wait here for the MPs to finish whatever they’re doing. Maybe they’ll get some clue.’

  Obediently Isabel sank on to the sofa and stared at the fire. Her head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool, not like a cold, but fuzzy, soulless and accompanied by a complete inability to concentrate. Perhaps it was delayed shock.

  John, with no idea what else to say, paced the room aimlessly, hoping the MPs wouldn’t be long and that they’d come up with some useful information.

  About an hour later the doorbell rang again. There was murmuring from the hall as Irma opened it to the visitor. Shortly after that Major Goddard strode in.

  ‘Well,’ he said. ‘That’s about it for now. We’ve talked to everyone we can think of. No-one seems to have seen anything. They were all too busy thinking about what to have for supper as far as I can see. No-one saw a child, most of them didn’t even notice the children going home from their dancing class. One person saw the ration truck arriving – he complained about it going too fast – and someone else heard the sound of the dog yelping. But no-one saw your daughter, Mrs Barton. Later they all went indoors, out of the snow and tried to keep warm. No-one so much as looked out of a window for the rest of the night. There’s really nothing more we can do here. I will report to you immediately if I have more news.’

  The Major seemed satisfied that his report had been received and understood. His duty was done. Isabel’s blank face reassured him that there would be no more histrionics, at least while he was on the premises. He gathered his things together; gave a stiff salute and marched from the room.

  John and Isabel breathed out audibly.

  ‘Well, at least he’s gone,’ said John. ‘Not very helpful, I agree, but he’ll keep his ears open, I’m sure.’

  ‘Oh, God, is that it?’ Isabel sighed. ‘I know we didn’t like him much, but he was at least doing something. Now, what are we going to do? We can’t just sit here waiting for something to happen.’

  ‘There are one or two things I can do. People I can speak to. And we still haven’t heard from Bill.’

  ‘I need him home, John. I can’t bear this waiting.’

  ‘I know, darling. I’m sure we’ll have news soon.’

  But whether he meant news of Bill or of Penny, Isabel wasn’t sure and didn’t want to ask. A wave of despair washed over her and she turned and left the room. She went into the bedroom and put on the beaver coat. She needed a dry handkerchief and felt under her pillow where she knew there was one. Her hand brushed the gun and, almost without thinking, she withdrew it and put it deep into her coat pocket. She opened the tiny drawer in her bedside table and took out the box of bullets and dropped them into the pocket with the gun. Maybe she’d have a use for it after all. Vindictive fury filled her – whoever had taken her child was going to suffer if she had anything to do with it.

  She crossed the hall and opened the door. The MPs were getting into their jeep to leave. A small crowd of curious people had gathered on the pavement. A pity they weren’t paying a bit more attention yesterday, she thought acidly. She recognised one or two of them as people she often saw in the street, neighbours, and waved to them.

  From the top of the front steps, just where she was standing yesterday when Penny disappeared, she watched the MPs drive away. The gears of their jeep ground alarmingly and they did not bother to turn to wave or acknowledge her presence on the steps, or her hand feebly raised in farewell. She turned into the house and dragged into the drawing room. John was deep in thought in the big armchair, his feet stretched towards the fire.

  Suddenly overwhelmed with grief; desperate for comfort, Isabel turned to him and launched herself into his lap, her body trembling and face shrouded in tears. Bemused by this outburst of emotion John gathered her into his arms.

  ‘They’re never going to find her,’ Isabel wailed. ‘She’s gone; lost forever.’

  John whispered reassurances into her damp ear.

  ‘They will, darling, they will. She can’t have just disappeared into thin air. We’ve got to be patient.’ He gently kissed her cheek and stroked her shaking back – the beaver coat threatened to engulf them both.

  ‘Take this thing off, Bella, it’s swallowing me whole.’

  Isabel shrugged out of the fur and flung it onto the floor. She returned to John’s arms, feeling calmer, but still needing the comfort of his closeness.

  ‘Darling Bella,’ John murmured into her hair. ‘You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?’

  Isabel leaned even closer, her eyes never leaving his face. For once she didn’t mind being called Bella, which John said as if he knew the name’s true meaning – beautiful, my beautiful girl. Her heart fluttered with that familiar sensation, a distant memory from when she had first met Bill and they had been carefree. Her body filled with warmth. For a few moments they clung together. Isabel raised a hand and softly touched John’s face.

  ‘You’re so kind to me, John. I shouldn’t be taking up all of your time. I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.’

  John hugged her close to his chest. ‘You’re entitled to be, darling. It’s all been too much for you. This is very delightful,’ he squeezed her softly, ‘but I’d better get up now, there’s things I should be doing.’

  Isabel shook her head to bring herself back to reality and slowly rose from the chair.

  ‘Have you got to go in to the city? Work, I suppose.’

  ‘Not exactly. There are people I need to speak to, contacts. Someone may know what’s happened to Penny; who may have taken her. I’m going to ask for a few days’ leave. Don’t worry, Isabel, I’m not going to abandon you.’

  Isabel smiled her gratitude. She certainly felt abandoned by Bill, however unreasonable that was; he couldn’t help being away at this crucial time. But he should be here, with her, supporting her and helping her through the crisis, searching for Penny.

  Once he was standing, John gathered her into his arms ag
ain and drew her close. After the briefest hesitation he looked into her brimming eyes and kissed her, full on the lips this time, slowly, tenderly, but with an underlying passion that conveyed itself to Isabel in a moment of revelation that stunned her. He released her and, without looking at her again, turned to gather his coat and cap and strode from the room. Soon after that the front door slammed.

  Astounded, Isabel fell into the chair. In wonder she traced the imprint of John’s kiss with her fingers. The sensation still trembled there and in the quickening of her heart. What did this mean? Was John in love with her? She tried to remember if there had been any earlier signs. He had always been such a good friend; perhaps she hadn’t noticed that his feelings towards her were growing warmer. Then there was Anya. She was supposed to be his girlfriend, but perhaps it was just a casual thing, just a matter of proximity and expediency.

  Isabel couldn’t work out how she felt. She was in such emotional turmoil about Penny’s disappearance that she couldn’t process this new emotion. How did she feel about John? He was lovely, of course, so generous, kind, funny and strong. But what about Bill, to whom she had given her heart all that time ago, before the War, when life had been easy and they were at peace? He had changed. Of course he had, but that didn’t mean she no longer loved him even though it had been nearly impossible to recapture that earlier feeling, that closeness and complete trust and openness they used to share.

  Confusion filled her mind. Her head felt as if it enclosed a vacuum; as if all the joy had been sucked from the world. All feeling had gone; replaced by a dull ache. Would she ever feel safe again?

  Weariness overcame her and she decided to lie down in her room. She had slept so little last night. Perhaps a nap would help her feel better. Later there might be some news. She picked her coat up from the floor where John had discarded it and carried it to her room. She slumped down on the bed, spreading the coat over her feet, closed her eyes and let tiredness take over her body. In a few moments she was in a heavy stupor of drug-like sleep.