The Face of Eve

by Betty Burton

  ‘If we can talk about Lu… She was angry. She was furious. Lu wouldn’t thank me for crying so long after the event. But I feel her heartache as much now as she did then. And her guilt. Vera dying let Lu down; Lu felt guilty that she was angry with Vera. Vera’s womb had produced a daughter with huge ambitions and a talent for learning, the same womb that developed cancer and deprived Lu of her mother’s gentleness and of the one thing they both had wanted – for Lu to get an education and get out of the poverty they lived in.’

  Again Dr McKenzie leaned forward so that her noble nose was close. ‘Lu probably had a mother as good as they come, and she did not deserve the treatment handed out to her. It wasn’t Vera’s fault that she let Lu down. Am I right?’

  ‘Of course you’re right! But she was bursting with anger, and it was centred upon the body in the coffin. She didn’t know what to do about such overwhelming anger. So she ran away. She made a show of herself in front of the Wilmotts, she hurt Ray and Ken, and left them to the disdain of the Wilmotts.’

  ‘Where did she run to?’

  ‘Not far, but to a part of the beach that’s dangerous when the tide’s coming in.’

  ‘And…?’

  ‘Lu wasn’t stupid enough to do anything too serious. She tore down some warning notices – broke them up and hurled them into the waves.’ Eve gave a faint, wry smile. ‘Sheets of plywood don’t break easily. Then they come flying back with every gust of wind. She hurled big stones at them, but the stones bounced off. Poor kid, her tantrum was so pathetic.’

  ‘Why do you think she didn’t throw herself on her mother’s coffin and sob her heart out? For God’s sake, this was her mother who had been dealt a loser’s hand. Don’t you think that the girl was entitled to rail against what brought her mother to this? Why didn’t she show her anger? She was entitled to, wasn’t she?’

  ‘You don’t understand people like us. This is my home town, you know. Did you know that?’ Dr McKenzie made a note.

  ‘Eve Anders has come home to Lu Wilmott. I could take you to where generations of Wilmotts have put up with being cheap labour. But Lu got out. She knew there was something better.’

  ‘You said “people like us” – who are they?’

  ‘My people.’

  ‘You mean Lu’s people?’

  ‘No. Yes.’

  ‘Shall we talk for a minute about this?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Eve Anders’ involvement with Lu Wilmott – Louisa.’

  ‘No. She’s Lu.’

  ‘Well then, Eve Anders’ involvement with Lu.’

  ‘Must I spell it out?’

  ‘It would be easier for me.’

  ‘Three years ago, Lu Wilmott got on a train here in Portsmouth, and when she got off at the other end, she was Eve Anders. She / I took nothing of my old life except a couple of mementoes.’

  ‘And it worked?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I would really like to know what Lu’s reaction was when you rejected her in favour of Eve Anders.’

  ‘Rejected? I haven’t rejected her.’

  ‘Very well – secreted her. Go on, please, tell me something about her.’

  Eve leaned back, drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She latched her fingers and circled her thumbs one round the other. A smile lighted her face. ‘People said that she was a fire-cracker, always going off in all directions.’

  ‘And was she?’

  ‘Oh yes. At any one time she could be the Maid of Orleans, Queen Boudicca, Ellen Wilkinson, Helen Keller or Catherine the Great. One of her last performances was in front of a meeting of factory workers. She organised them into a union… got a medal for it.’ She breathed out deeply again and stretched her fingers, then laughed. She didn’t know why, except that in the first time for months, Lu was very close. Comforting. ‘And had she known you, I’m pretty sure that she would have been you as well.’

  The doctor laid one finger on Eve’s arm. ‘She did better than that, she became Eve Anders. I can’t believe that she’s not proud of you.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘An idealist fire-cracker concealed in intelligence and beauty? I know so.’

  ‘She wasn’t ashamed of educating herself and using her intelligence to get away.’

  ‘Which is what she did.’

  ‘At a price, of course. When Lu Wilmott became Eve Anders, it had to be—’ she made a sharp chopping motion – ‘at a single stroke and ignore the pain.’

  ‘And it must have been very painful.’

  ‘Yes. But it was the only way, a clean cut.’

  ‘How did you deal with the pain?’

  ‘I took myself off to Spain where for a year or so I did crazy things like driving trucks up to the front line, picking up pieces of Spaniards blown apart by other Spaniards until there was nothing to do except run for it.’ She saw her skinny, bedraggled self, armed with a carving knife and carrying a piece of bread and – what was it, some meat? – she could no longer remember the detail – and joining the trail of refugees as it went through Barcelona, taking a half-alive baby and a disturbed adolescent with her.

  ‘And?’

  ‘She ended up here, spilling her guts to a head doctor.’

  ‘I like the idea of the fire-cracker girl. Exciting idea. You are proud of her, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  Dr McKenzie gave her a warm, generous smile. ‘As she must be of you, Miss Anders.’

  ‘She keeps me on the straight and narrow.’

  ‘You make a good pair, and I would like to get to know you better. We shall be seeing something of each other, I’ve no doubt.’ She rose to stand a fireguard in the hearth. ‘Look, I’m afraid our time is up. Would you like to straighten up and powder your nose? That door leads to a cloakroom. By the way, did you find Handleys?’

  ‘I did, and the car was wonderful… thank you. I saw the store in an entirely different light from when Lu and her friend Kate used to go on an occasional spree. Hobnobbing with the nobs, showing off, getting above herself, making out that she’s better than her own sort.’

  ‘And was she?’

  Positive and firm: ‘Yes.’ Then quieter and gentler, ‘Yes, she was.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because her mother told her that she was.’

  ‘Did you get some leather boots?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ She smiled. ‘And a spontaneous coat – a three-quarter fur jacket.’ She grinned like a girl. ‘I can’t believe I did that. The assistant said that it was exactly what this weather called for.’

  Dr McKenzie nodded at the dark swirling outside the window. ‘No mistake about that.’

  ‘But, for God’s sake, that coat had nothing to do with the weather. I was already wearing a warm coat. I wanted it because it was so gorgeous. You see, she’s still there, going off like a fire-cracker.’

  Dr McKenzie shook hands firmly and smiled. ‘Going off like a fire-cracker, or an ability to appraise the situation and make a quick decision? Now, I must fly… I’ll leave you to take your own time. Go when you feel ready, no one will disturb you. By the way, Miss Moncke would like you to call into her office when you finish here. Best of luck with your new career.’

  New career!

  Implying that she was suitable for The Bureau?

  The face that stared back at her from the bathroom cabinet mirror as she blotted cold water from her eyes was the face that she had not seen in months. Confident, untroubled and lively.

  The spirit of Lu was strong. Eve looked her in the eye and smiled. Stick with me, kid, and I’ll show you a good time.

  * * *

  ‘Dimitri, come and see.’ There was no reply, so she opened their connecting door. The room was immaculately tidy, not even his soldiery row of brushes and comb; it felt uninhabited. A frisson of worry clenched her stomach as she opened the wardrobe door and found it empty.

  Sitting on the bed that had last been used for patching up their quarrel, she knew that he w
as gone. Phoebe Moncke wanted to see her and this was why. She would put on fresh make-up, have a cigarette and go downstairs. The snow whirling past the window was relaxing; she felt very fatigued and her eyes were sore. She fell asleep but could still see the snow.

  * * *

  The silent, feathery flakes soon slanted into a blizzard into which Dimitri was disappearing. He wore the clothes in which he had escaped Spain; he was Josep Alier again. The guards at the border crossing looked at his papers, then pushed him around; Josep Alier was a peasant. The guards became aggressive and the girls clung to Eve, terrified at the fierce argument that was soundless. She told them to hush and be good. Suddenly the Josep Alier coat was torn from him and he was transformed back into the Russian officer Major Vladim, as she had first seen him. There was a quick rat-tat-tat and bloody holes appeared in his uniformed back. He did not move, but stood there as though the bullets had not touched him, even as his blood ran down. Rat-tat-tat again. As he began to topple she shouted, but strange, unidentifiable noises drew her attention away from Dimitri dissolving into the blizzard.

  * * *

  Rat-a-tat again. ‘Miss Anders? Miss Anders?’ It was a young woman in uniform. ‘Sorry to bother you, but Miss Phoebe would like a word.’ The snow had resumed to its earlier gentle fall. The cigarette she had lit had burned out in the ashtray. She found it difficult to drag herself back into awareness.

  ‘OK, I’ll be right down.’

  Phoebe Moncke, businesslike and serious, handed Eve a single sheet of paper folded but not in an envelope. ‘The major asked me to give this to you.’

  ‘Has he left already? Where—’

  ‘Nobody tells me anything, darling.’

  ‘And if you did know, you wouldn’t say.’

  ‘Couldn’t say, darling, couldn’t. No, not at all.’

  ‘Of course. Thanks for this.’ She slipped the folded sheet of paper into her jacket pocket with no hope that she would learn much about where he had gone.

  Back in her room, she sat in the armchair and listened to a woman humming contentedly as she moved around opening and closing drawers, taking over Dimitri’s room.

  Eve,

  What I can think as I make you this note is only that maybe you have not seen my handwriting. How strange, but I can not think of any occasion what we have written anything. I think that you must write in large, hasty clear letters. I should be most interested in how you think of this handwriting. I expect that you must write your English words with strong strokes of the pen (you see I do know good grammar) for you are the very strongest woman I have known – and that also includes my dear babushka who was not afraid of howling of wolves. Also you are a good woman. I will ask to send money to Jess for Genia and Posa. Salud dearest of all compadres.

  Your most loving and faithful man,

  Dimitri Vladim.

  Their lives had become fused, fasciated like saplings that are pressed together, growing a single trunk until there is room and then they divide.

  All that about handwriting was not his message; the message was in the word compadre – ‘friend’. Was he admitting that their affair was over?

  It was very chilly in the room, and could have been warmed up a bit had she been willing to draw the thick-lined curtains, but she was loath to shut out the gently falling snow and the sea lapping against ice that had formed when the last tide had receded.

  The sea had frozen.

  She would bet that kids from her old school had been down there, daring one another to do something, anything, to get a bit of fun out of the novelty of frozen sea. Nothing like these weeks of Arctic weather had happened in her memory and probably in memories going back generations. Snow and ice like this never came to a coastline sheltered by the Isle of Wight and warmed by the waters of the Solent.

  She hoped that she would not have to stay long here. Whilst she stayed here in the salubrious Southsea area of the town, she was unlikely to come across any of her old friends. She had moved on and could not go back… would not.

  She would do anything rather than that.

  With the departure of Dimitri, she had, so to speak, cleared her emotional decks; she was responsible for no one but herself. Whatever happened from here on, she had nothing to lose.

  * * *

  On day two Eve was called for interview with Captain Faludi.

  They were in one of the many rooms at Griffon, transformed from costly bad taste into basic offices furnished by the Ministry of Information. He greeted her with the same kind of handshake, firm, dry and warm, as Janet McKenzie’s had been, then invited her to sit opposite and proceeded with an interview that took the form of an informal conversation during which he took notes.

  After about fifteen minutes he asked, ‘Lieutenant Hatton says that you appeared keen to join The Bureau. What do you know of it, then?’

  ‘Nothing at all. But I know Lieutenant Hatton and I guessed that he would not suggest me if he didn’t believe that I could do the work, or that I would not enjoy it.’

  ‘Do you often make such snap decisions?’

  Hm. That was a tricky one.

  ‘Quick decisions, yes. A snap decision is probably not thought through.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m quite good at thinking on my feet… quickly. Also I was ready to come home and it seemed an opportunity I should take.’

  ‘Not because you particularly wanted to?’

  ‘No, yes – I mean I did want to. I was just saying that he didn’t need to persuade me.’

  ‘You insisted that Major Vladim should accompany you?’

  ‘I didn’t actually insist, but I did think that we should stick together.’

  ‘It does appear to be a little insistent if you—’

  She felt he was needling her, and she wouldn’t have any of it. ‘As I said, sir, I thought that we should stick together. He had helped me escape from Spain; I could hardly come home and leave him there. He was… is, a refugee.’

  ‘And absconded from his regiment.’

  ‘He did. And his country. He gave up everything when he helped me to get out with the children – I expect you have all that on our files, sir.’

  Faludi nodded. ‘Probably not all. Are you romantically involved?’

  She gave him a direct unblinking look. ‘Is that relevant?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Do you mind telling me why?’

  He looked back at her, rather surprised to discover that Hatton was probably right. The dossier that he had provided gave a picture of a working-class girl, idealistic, clever – Hatton suggested great intelligence, well, time would tell – and loyal. Hatton, or someone, had dug very deeply into the past of this beautiful, but rather snooty young woman.

  ‘You realise that before I even asked you to attend this interview my people had done their research?’

  ‘Yes, I had realised that.’ A small smile, mostly in her eyes. ‘Not much good wasting time on unknown candidates.’

  ‘So, how committed are you to this… ah, liaison with Major Vladim?’

  ‘There has never been any commitment on either side. But I do feel loyalty, and I believe that he does too. But I can only speak for myself.’

  He frowned a little at this. ‘Do you mind that your life is in a folder somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, I mind very much but…’ She shrugged.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘It is necessary. If you were to accept me, I’d want to be confident that there had been a thorough check on my colleagues.’

  He looked at her thoughtfully. She was so straight-laced and correct. He could not imagine her driving a supplies lorry to the battle front, or living openly and unmarried to a Russian officer. He could, however, imagine her having some sort of a fling with Hatton. Hatton’s women had always been elegant and lovely.

  ‘Can I be sure of that, sir?’

  ‘I’m sorry? Sure of what?’

  ‘That you don’t recruit people less loyal and dependable than I am. I am, you know. Loyal and depe
ndable.’

  ‘I believe that you are. As, I believe, are the other candidates who have been selected.’

  He turned a page. ‘Tell me about walking out on your employer.’

  Eve felt her neck become flushed, but luckily it remained hidden by a georgette scarf. ‘What do you want to know about it?’

  He shrugged and made a slight gesture with an open hand. ‘You mentioned loyalty and dependability.’

  ‘My loyalty was to the women I worked with. My employer treated his workers unfairly – he played on their vulnerability knowing they were in no position to complain. I was in a strong position. I am not badly educated, I am articulate and, as I have said, I am loyal and dependable. My co-workers depended upon me. I told him that he was a bad employer – and then I left. Also, and this is something Lieutenant Hatton couldn’t have reported to you, my employer thought that he was entitled to sexual favours. Factory girls are as entitled to respect as any others.’

  That’s you put in your place, Faludi, he thought. She’s turning this interview on its head.

  Yet he didn’t mind. She fulfilled his own requirements for the new kind of agent The Bureau would need. The Bureau had sent Hatton fishing for the Russian, but it appeared that they had caught something almost as rare.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Anders. I can tell you now that you are acceptable to The Bureau, and Colonel Linder will confirm your appointment at once.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I am very pleased to hear it.’

  On her file he noted ‘NKA’. Nothing Known Against.

  6

  Eve had come up to London on the early-morning train. Yesterday, after Faludi, she had been passed on to David Hatton, a strange experience with the formality, and a clerk taking notes. His instructions to her had been that she go to London where outside the Science Museum there would be an unmarked bus. When all the new recruits were on board they would be driven to some recently acquired premises which would be used for induction training.