by Dan Walsh
She followed him back out into the main room and watched him pull back the curtains, revealing this majestic view of the city. He walked back toward the front door and stood, as if at attention. A horrifying realization sunk in…he was expecting a tip.
She had no money. Not even a cent.
An awkward moment passed between them. She didn’t know what to say. Finally, “Thank you so much for your help.” Said more like a question. He seemed to get the message and promptly left, looking only slightly annoyed.
She walked back into the bedroom and opened her bag. It took all of three minutes to put away every stitch of clothing she had left in the world. Besides the handful of things in one drawer, hanging in the cavernous wardrobe were two blouses and a skirt. Combined with what she wore, she could patch together three outfits in total.
None of them up to par with the clothes likely worn by the staff of this hotel.
Elliot sat at his desk in a nondescript building on the fourth floor of 64 Baker Street, nervously rearranging some paperwork and file folders. He’d rushed over here after hurriedly dropping Renée off at The Savoy, thinking his commanding officer, or CO, had been waiting to see him for hours.
He’d arrived to find his CO’s door closed. His adjutant said the Lieutenant Colonel was in a meeting and could not be disturbed. But he did want to see Elliot and left instructions for him to wait in his office. He didn’t think it’d be much longer.
That was over an hour ago.
Elliot leaned back on his uncomfortable wooden chair and glanced around at his office space. Really, it was a waste that he even kept a desk in this building. This was the first time he’d been to it in several months. Before that, he’d barely spent a few hours a week in here.
His phone buzzed. He picked it up.
“Lieutenant Colonel Browning is ready to see you, Sir.”
“I’ll be right up.”
Elliot made his way down the hall and up the stairs, preferring not to wait for the much-too-slow elevator. He walked down a longer hallway, back into the Lieutenant Colonel’s office and was directed by the adjutant to go right in.
Lieutenant Colonel Browning looked up from his desk when Elliot approached. Elliot stood at attention and saluted. Browning returned the salute and said, “At ease, Major. Please, have a seat.” His expression was serious, but not angry or annoyed.
Perhaps whatever business that had bumped Elliot out of the way had sufficiently distracted Browning, so that he’d forgotten about Elliot getting back to London late. At some point, Elliot would have to inform his CO about Renée, but certainly didn’t want to have to talk about her now.
Browning made a few notes on a paper sitting in front of him, then set it aside and gave Elliot his undivided attention. “Well Major, it would appear that everything is falling apart in France. Would you concur?”
“I’m afraid so, Sir. Nothing there is going according to plan.”
“Then I guess it’s fair to say you weren’t able to make the kind of connections in your assigned area that might benefit us later on?”
“No, sir. It’s fair to say my mission was a complete failure. Virtually every French leader I had identified and began to develop in my zone fled for southern France in the past few days. I lost touch with every single one. In their defense, sir, these men didn’t have any decent weapons to defend themselves. They were up against Panzer tanks and Stuka dive bombers. A few said they would try to come back if the situation ever stabilized.”
Browning sighed.
That had been the bulk of Elliot’s mission. British intelligence had anticipated the possibility the northeastern area of France might fall into German hands someday. Elliot was sent there to develop relationships with potential leaders who could serve as a future resistance movement. Of course, no one had imagined the Nazis would steamroll over the Allied defenses in a matter of weeks. Elliot assumed he had months to accomplish this task, at the very least.
“Well, needless to say, your time there has come to an end. I’ve learned we’re not just pulling out of northern France, but everywhere. All our planes will be returning home in the next day or two.”
Elliot was relieved to hear this. “And what about the troops? The infantry and equipment?”
“The equipment, as you can imagine, will be lost. All of it. But plans have been approved and are underway to try and evacuate the men. It’s a monumental effort.”
“Where? At Dunkirk, Calais?”
“Dunkirk. But enough of this. I called you back now to get you started on your next assignment.”
“Where will that be?” Please let it be here, he thought.
“For the next few months, Major, you will be staying here. Not always in London but various locations in southern England. Just before you came, I was informed by Colonel Masterson that our operation is about to be dramatically expanded, in anticipation of a Nazi invasion.”
Even though Elliot suspected this, hearing it said aloud by his CO made him shudder.
“Over the next month or so, assuming we have that much time, we will be combining with other intelligence agencies to form one unified branch. I’m not sure what it will be called, or who will be leading yet. But our outfit will definitely be involved.”
“How can I be of service, Sir?”
“I don’t have any of the details worked out yet. But the general idea is to have you doing the same kind of work you were attempting to do in France. But to do it here, working with selected, elite individuals in the Home Guard.”
“Excuse me, sir. The Home Guard?”
“That’s what we’ll shortly be calling this massive mob of volunteers you see parading all about in uniforms. The old men and young boys? You’ll hear Churchill make the name change on the radio soon.”
“But sir, if I’m doing the same kind of work I was doing in France—organizing a resistance movement—do I take it to mean we’re anticipating not merely a Nazi invasion, but that they will succeed? That England will be conquered?”
The Lieutenant Colonel looked straight at Elliot but did not immediately reply. Finally, he said, “You know how it is, Major. The job of this outfit is to prepare for every contingency.”
16
Thirty more minutes passed, when Renée was startled by the telephone ringing in her room. She hadn’t even noticed it before, nor had she ever been in a hotel that offered one in your room. She hurried over to answer it, assuming it must be Elliot. “Hello?”
“Is that you, Renée?”
“Yes, Elliot. It’s me.”
“I’m finished with my business. I was just getting ready to drive over and pick you up for dinner. Thought I’d give you a little warning, to give you time to get ready.”
Renée sighed. Get ready? She had done everything she could to be ready for his return. She’d finally given up.
“What’s the matter?”
She felt a wave of emotion rising and tried to suppress it. “Oh Elliot, I can’t go out to dinner with you.”
“Are you tired? I should have asked. Of course, you are. That’s okay. There are some wonderful restaurants right there at the hotel. We could just—”
“I can’t go there, either.”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“You always look so nice in your uniform. But, I have nothing to wear. You saw, I only brought the one bag. You said we must pack light. I have no dresses. Nothing I could wear in a place like this, or in any restaurant nearby. The people who work here have finer clothes than me. Maybe if you took me down to the docks or the warehouses. We could find some place to eat there.” She heard him laugh on the other end. But she was only half-joking.
“I’m so sorry, Renée. I didn’t even think about any of this. I was only trying to make your first days here in London comfortable. And here I have put you in a hotel that makes you feel just the opposite.” He paused a moment. “I have an idea. The Savoy offers room service. You can order it right there using the phone. How about I start
driving over, and you order us some food. Hopefully, it will be arriving there at the same time as me, and we can eat right there in your room? Just for this evening, so you don’t have to go out? Then I will leave you, so that you can get some rest. And tomorrow morning, we’ll see about getting you some new clothes. How does that sound?”
“That sounds very nice. But I don’t want you to go to any trouble or expense. I don’t have to stay in a place like this. You know I’d—”
“It’s no trouble at all. A woman needs more than the clothes she can squeeze into one suitcase. And The Savoy is perfect for now. Very close to where I’ll be working.”
Renée suddenly remembered an important detail. “Elliot, there is another problem. A smaller one.”
“What is it?”
“I’m sure it’s customary here to tip the people who serve you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I have no money. None at all. I felt awful after the steward escorted me to my room. I had nothing to give him.”
“And you’ll have nothing to give whoever delivers the food? I understand. Then you just sit there and relax for about twenty minutes. When I get to the hotel lobby, I will order the food myself. That way I’m sure to be there when it arrives.”
“That would be very nice. Thank you.”
“Is there anything you’d especially like to eat? I haven’t seen the hotel menu, but I’m sure—”
“Would they have fish and chips? I’ve always wanted to try that.”
“Hmmm. They might. If they don’t, we’ll be sure to get some tomorrow when we’re out shopping.”
There was a knock at her hotel door. She walked over and looked through the little hole just to make sure. It was Elliot. “I was hoping it was you.” She noticed he carried two brown paper bags and smelled food as he walked by.
He walked straight over to a coffee table in front of the couch and set the bags down. “I learned that the restaurant doesn’t serve fish and chips, but the concierge told me about a little place that did just a block away. He called and they were still open. So, you get your wish. Fish and chips.”
“That was nice of you. I hope I like it after you’ve gone to so much trouble.”
“Very little trouble, really.” He sat on the edge of the sofa. “Come sit next to me. You have to eat this a certain way, because of how it’s packaged.”
As she came over to join him, he pulled some of the food out of the bag. It looked like a big piece of newspaper wrapped in the shape of a cone. Pieces of fried fish and chips stuck out the top. “Why is it wrapped in newspaper?” He handed the cone to her and took his out of the other bag.
“I’m not exactly sure. But I know, because it is, I was never allowed to eat it as a child. My nanny always said it was too dirty.”
It didn’t look like the most sanitary way to handle food, but it smelled wonderful. So, he had a nanny. That was something. Was she the one who’d raised him? Did his mother? He had never mentioned either one before this.
“But whenever I was away from home and got the chance, I would buy it. Hope you like it.” He was just about to take a bite of fish.
“I hope you don’t mind, Elliot. But in my family we always say a quick prayer of thanks before eating.”
“Oh, that’s fine. Go right ahead.”
“I can pray quietly.”
“Whatever you prefer.”
It seemed clear that this wasn’t his custom, so she just said a quick, silent prayer of thanks. “While I’m thanking God, I want to thank you, too. This is such a special treat.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Neither of them spoke for the next several minutes. Renée was the first, after finishing off her first full piece of fish. “This is so good. I can hardly taste the newspaper ink at all.”
“Can you taste it, even a little?”
She laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s delicious.”
“Try the chips. I think you’re supposed eat them together.”
They both continued eating with very little conversation. Renée ate quite a few chips and another piece of fish but then got full. “Feel free to eat the rest of mine. I’m totally full.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“I might just do that. I don’t know why I’m so hungry.”
She thought back to their day and realized something. “We never ate any lunch.”
“That’s right,” he said. “What a time that was. I’m so glad we didn’t see any German planes on our way home.”
She thought it funny, hearing him say the word home. She was in a totally strange place but, here, everything felt familiar and comfortable to him. Even this meal. She wiped her lips with the cloth napkin. “You mentioned earlier that your nanny never let you eat this kind of food before. Was she the woman who raised you? We’ve never talked much about your family.”
Elliot finished chewing a piece of fish. “There’s not very much to tell I’m afraid. As a young child, I was raised by my mother. I had a nanny, but my mother preferred to do most of the motherly tasks. The nanny would just look after me when my mother had things to do. But she died when I was nine. After that, another nanny took over and looked after me until I went off to boarding school.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your mother. That must’ve been a terrible time for you.”
“It was the worst.”
“And what about your father?”
“My father? Unfortunately, I never knew him. He was a pilot in the Great War and died when his plane was shot down. My mother said he was an ace. That means he shot down more than five enemy planes.” The expression on his face changed, like he was suddenly deep in thought.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I was just thinking about how differently my life would have gone had my father lived. You see, he was an American. A commoner, my grandfather would say. Not a proper gentleman, not part of British aristocracy.”
“I take it your grandfather did not approve of him?”
“That would be putting it mildly.” He wiped his mouth then his hands with the napkin. “My grandfather never speaks of him and never allowed me to speak about him after my mother died. But I do remember the way she spoke of him, never in Grandfather’s presence, mind you. But it was very clear to me they had loved each other very much.” He looked into Renée’s eyes. “I’ve wondered sometimes…had my father not died, if he might have taken us away to America, away from my grandfather. I’ve wondered if that might be a second reason Grandfather resented him.”
It sounded like Elliot was mistaken. There was much to say about his family. Compared to her own, it sounded very complex. And painful. “Are you and your grandfather close? Or has all this put something of a wall between you?”
Elliot sighed. “Close? I don’t think my grandfather has ever been close to anyone. I’m not sure there’s a wall between us, but we don’t see eye to eye on a great many things.”
17
Every one of the six American pilots had made it through the entire hour of physical testing without a hitch. Including Joe. After, Joe had said to the flight sergeant, “We can go longer if you’d like.”
“That’ll be enough, Yank,” the sergeant replied.
Then they were brought to a building to get their uniforms and other necessary items, like toiletries. The guys talked about how new everything seemed: the buildings, the furniture, even the streets seemed freshly paved. They learned it wasn’t only how things seemed; everything was new. The entire base had just recently been constructed and turned over to the military less than two months ago.
Next, they were brought to their barracks building, a two-story affair that, although brand new, had been built devoid of any creativity or design. One of the guys said it looked like a bunch of shoeboxes stuck together. “And what’s with the paint job?” Joe asked the sergeant. “Looks like big jigsaw puzzle pieces painted on the walls.”
The flight sergea
nt said it was somebody’s idea of camouflage.
“Camouflage?” Joe said. “You’re kidding, right? Do they really think this paint job is gonna make these buildings invisible from up there?” He pointed to the sky.
Jack could tell by the look on the sergeant’s face, he didn’t think much of it, either.
“You don’t ‘ave to like it,” he’d said. “You just gotta live in it. I’ll show you your rooms. You can get cleaned up. Change into your uniforms and ‘ead across the way to that building.” He pointed to a smaller building across a large paved area, painted the same way. “That’s the officers’ mess. Dinner’s in an hour. You miss it, you don’t eat the rest of the night.”
“When are we going to get to see the planes?” Seth said. “After dinner?”
“After you eat, I’ll take you over to the hangars,” the flight sergeant said. “But you won’t be doing any flying tonight. They’ll be testing your flying skills first thing in the morning. That’s my understanding. Follow me.”
He led them through the front door of the barracks. Jack didn’t see any other people in the building. The flight sergeant confirmed, for now, they had the barracks building to themselves. A lot more people were scheduled to arrive over the next few weeks. Most of them foreigners, from all over Europe: Poland, Czechoslovakia, Belgium, Holland and France. Men who had gotten out before the Nazi’s took over.
“So, this is going to be a base full of mutts,” Joe said. “I wonder if any of these guys even speak English.”
Their quarters were not assigned, so Jack and Joe were able to bunk together. The rooms were very basic. A bunk on each side. Small desk in the middle beneath a tall window. A plain chest of drawers for each man near the foot of the bed. Joe quickly laid on his bunk, put his hands under his head. “Yep, this’ll do just fine.”
Jack didn’t dare lie down, or he’d fall fast asleep. “I’m going to find the showers.”
After getting cleaned up and putting on their new blue uniforms for the first time, the men walked together toward the mess hall. There were a handful of other officers already eating. They took note of the Americans’ arrival but pretty much kept to themselves.
