Uncommon Enemy

by Reynolds, John

  “Alright, but we need to be careful.”

  Stepping cautiously out into the porch the two women looked around. The street was deserted.

  “No sign of anyone,” said Catherine.

  “Whoever they are, they’re pretty fast movers.”

  “Come on, back inside.”

  Returning to the house and locking the front door the pair went into the lounge and sat together on the settee. Using an ivory-handled letter opener Catherine slowly slit the top of the envelope and extracted a single page.

  “It’s for you,” she said.

  Carol took the page and slowly read it aloud.

  Message for Carol

  You are to travel into Auckland City immediately.

  You may bring only one small case (the size of a Gladstone bag) with a change of clothes and personal items.

  You are to go directly to Albert Park and sit on the seat by the band rotunda.

  You are to wait there until we make contact.

  Note:

  Do not show this message to anyone.

  Destroy it as soon as you have read it.

  “It could be a trap,” she mused. “However, the rendezvous point has been used by our people before.”

  “And if they wanted to capture you they could have come directly to my house and arrested you.”

  “You’re right,” said Carol suddenly standing. “While I’m here I’m putting you in danger. There is a network of Fightback groups so let’s hope the contact is from them. I’ll have to rejoin them. Anyone else I contact will be in immediate danger, including you.”

  “Carol, are you sure?”

  “Yes, I am. Things may improve in the future, but in the meantime, I’ve got no alternative, if I want to go on living.” She paused and sighed. “And I suppose I do.”

  Seeing her aunt was about to protest she reached forward and gave her a quick hug.

  “Come on, Auntie, help me put a few things together.”

  “Alright. If you’re sure. But I’m coming with you as far as the city. Two women will look less conspicuous that one travelling on her own.”

  About to protest, Carol saw the look in her Aunt’s eye and knew that further argument was futile. They agreed that Catherine would leave her niece halfway up Queen Street and then return home on the understanding that Carol would phone her as soon as possible that evening or the following day.

  The trip was uneventful and, just before one o’clock Carol nervously approached the Albert Park rotunda and seated herself in the place where Stuart had sat several months earlier. At her Aunt’s suggestion she had brought a book to read as they both agreed that it would look more natural. From her small case she took a copy of L.M. Montgomery’s book Anne of Green Gables. Catherine had bought it for her as a present for her tenth birthday and she had read it several times during her teenage years.

  A few people were in the rotunda and others were strolling past chatting and enjoying the pleasant weather. The normality of the environment and the familiarity of the story calmed her somewhat. As she began to read Carol quickly discovered that the hardest thing was to resist the temptation to keep looking up every few seconds to check her situation. She resolved to only look up on the completion of each page.

  Several times her absorption with the book overrode her fears and she read several pages before suddenly recalling her situation. Even so she forced herself to look up slowly when turning to a new page.

  “Follow me.”

  She jerked her head up abruptly. The only person in the vicinity was a female figure wearing a long black coat and a red headscarf standing a few steps away with her back to Carol.

  “Follow me.”

  Undoubtedly it was the woman who spoke. Thrusting her book into her case Carol stood up.

  The woman spoke again. “Come on, but keep your distance.”

  Trying to appear nonchalant Carol began to follow the woman who was now walking up the path towards the fountain at the northern end of Albert Park. Without looking back the woman turned right and crossing Princes Street entered the university grounds down a sloping path near the clock tower building.

  Carol followed her. Two male students, carrying books under their arms came walking up the path. As she moved to her left to let them pass one of them stumbled and dropped his books directly in front of her. She stopped in confusion.

  “Sorry,” said the young man bending down to collect his books. His companion, making no attempt to help, looked directly at Carol and jerked his head in a sideways movement.

  “All clear,” he said. “Follow us, Carol.”

  The woman had disappeared. The young man, having collected his books, stood up quickly. The pair took a few steps backwards and then turned along a different path. Apprehensively Carol did as she was told. As they reached a smaller path she gasped as she recognized the small door. It was the side entrance of the History Department library.

  Both men stopped and looked around quickly. No one was about and the taller of them rapped twice on the door. Immediately it was opened slightly. Turning to Carol he ordered, “Go straight in.”

  She hesitated. The shock of seeing the door had triggered off memories of her assignation with Stuart and the subsequent weeks of tension, violence and betrayal. The coincidence was too strong. Clearly it was a trap set with all the vindictiveness of Hamish Beavis.

  Abruptly she turned away but the tall man moved swiftly behind her.

  “Time is short!” he hissed and, placing his hand in the middle of her back thrust her roughly towards the half open door.

  Stumbling forward she caught her foot on the doorstep, crashed into the door and went sprawling inside on the library floor.

  The door was immediately slammed and locked behind her.

  “Hullo, my sweet.”

  The room was dark but the voice was frighteningly familiar. Twisting onto her back she looked up at the towering male figure silhouetted against the window. Fear surged through her. Desperately she tried to thrust herself backward with her heels but they slipped on the carpet and her legs sprawled out in front of her.

  “Carol.” The man’s voice was soft and as he bent down beside her the light fell on his face. She gasped and stared.

  “Stuart! Oh, my God, it can’t be!”

  Her arms thrust upwards and wrapped themselves fiercely round his neck causing him to lose his balance and sprawl beside her.

  “Stuart,” she whispered. Her hands explored his face and she began to sob. “I thought, I thought you were dead. I, I left you in the woolshed. The soldiers said you’d been shot. Stuart. Oh, my darling man.”

  Gently Stuart put his right hand under her chin and tipping it back, looked her fully in the face. His eyes burned into hers but his voice was soft and low.

  “It’s me, Carol. I’m alive. Everything’s going to be OK.”

  Simultaneously they locked their arms tightly around each other both revelling in the reality. Suddenly Carol jerked back.

  “God!”

  “What?” asked the startled Stuart.

  “We’re here, at the university which the Germans took over. Aren’t we in danger?”

  Stuart chuckled and shifting his position he moved back against the library wall.

  “Come here.” He patted the carpet in front of him. “Lie back and I’ll put you in the picture.”

  With a long sigh Carol lay back on the carpet and, resting her head on his lap, gazed up at him.

  “From this position I can watch you and make sure you don’t disappear on me.”

  She touched the large piece of sticking plaster above his left eye.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No not really. Just fairly shaken up.”

  She touched her fingers to his lips. “Take your time. Tell me from the beginning.”

  “OK,” he responded.

  Continuing to run his hand lightly through her hair he gazed down at her. Lit by the faint light from a small high window she looked pale and
drawn but the lovely contours of her face, framed by her dark hair took his breath away. Gently he ran his hand down the left side of her face and continued in a soft voice.

  “The library doors are locked and a notice has been put outside stating that it’s closed today for stocktaking so we should be OK, as long as we’re quiet.”

  “Alright, but for heaven’s sake tell me how you got here, how you-----.”

  He chuckled.

  “Rose from the dead?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Yesterday, when you’d all gone down to hide in the Albany Ritz we managed to keep the soldiers at bay for a few minutes. Then Tony took a shot in the shoulder. I took a quick look over the windowsill and I saw three of the soldiers running forward with stick grenades. I knew I had no time to shoot them all at once and so I dived into the centre of the woolshed. Just as I hit the floor the grenades came splintering through the doorway and exploded near me. I was stunned for a few moments. When I came to I realized that I was half under the bodies of two of our chaps.”

  Carol shuddered.

  “How awful.”

  “Yes, it was pretty grim but it probably saved my life. I had received a cut on my head, which bled quite heavily, over my face. The grenade concussions must have lifted the bodies so that they landed half on top of me. So there I was my face covered in blood lying under a couple of bleeding corpses. I passed out again and was woken to the sound of the soldiers’ heavy footsteps. I felt pretty sick so didn’t have too much trouble playing dead. It sounds logical now, but at the time I was scared stiff, particularly when the soldiers started checking the bodies. But it worked. When they shone their light on me I was literally frozen with fear and managed to lie there without moving. Beavis cursed foully when he saw me but then told his men to get on with finding any survivors.”

  “Meanwhile I was downstairs with the others terrified at what had happened to you.”

  “I must have passed out again. Next thing I remember was hearing a scream.”

  “It was me.”

  “Yes.” He kissed the top of her head. “The thundering of the rain on the roof drowned out just about everything. I kept drifting in an out of consciousness and the next thing I heard were the soldiers. They sat down near me and began talking. I went hot and cold when they started grumbling about Beavis’s treatment of the girl prisoner as it was obviously you. Then, in spite of the rain, they heard you scream and immediately hurried downstairs. I remember lifting my head to try and see what was happening but I immediately had another dizzy spell and passed out. Next thing I remember was hearing you talking to the soldiers. It seemed pretty obvious that they were going to help you and consequently I was very tempted to reveal myself.”

  She smiled grimly.

  “The soldiers were really on edge. They’d have shot instinctively if a blood-soaked apparition had suddenly emerged from under the corpses.”

  “That’s what I thought, so against all my instincts I just had to lie there. But, in my own defence, I was feeling as sick as a dog and wouldn’t have been any use to you anyway.”

  This time she kissed him lightly.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Once you left I slid out from under the bodies. I was trembling badly, my head was throbbing like hell, and I threw up several times. I then approached the farmhouse very cautiously and, once I was sure that it was deserted, went in and started to get myself cleaned up. Five of the chaps from sheep pen guard squad then turned up. They’d successfully ambushed a Blitzkrieg Boys patrol but as it was obvious that the farm had been identified so all of us decided to leave straight away. We used the radio to contact another support group.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “We used the Lucas Creek escape route.”

  She nodded knowingly and smiled.

  “Go on.”

  “There was a small amount of moonlight so we were able to make good progress in the two boats and by early morning rendezvoused with reps from the university group – one of them was the chap that I first met by the notice board. I was desperately worried about you and in the hope that you’d gone to Aunt Catherine’s, I arranged for a message to be immediately dropped off and----.”

  “We both know the rest of the story.” She reached up towards him with both arms. “Kiss me, just to prove again that this isn’t a dream.”

  The kiss was slow and lingering, a heady mixture of longing, relief, reassurance and passion. Feeling herself becoming rapidly overwhelmed, Carol pulled her head back and placed her fingers lightly on Stuart’s lips.

  “Wait a moment.”

  “Christ, I want you. Carol!” Stuart’s voice was urgent.

  “Me too, but I still need some answers.”

  He sighed and smiled.

  “Very well, but make it short and snappy.”

  “OK. First question. Our families. They must be worried sick.”

  “True. I’ve arranged for them both to be contacted by our people just to inform them that we’re alive and well and that we send our love and hope to arrange a meeting with them some time soon. Clearly we can’t write or phone but at least that will reassure them in the interim.”

  “I do miss them, Stuart.”

  “So do I. More than I thought I would. Hopefully, if the situation improves, we’ll be able to arrange something more substantial in the future.”

  She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, sighed deeply and looked back at him.

  “The other thing is----,” she began and then paused.

  “Yes?”

  “Brendan and Susan. I was so traumatized by what had happened to you that I didn’t give them a thought until the next morning when I woke up at Aunt Catherine’s.” She shuddered. “I just can’t bear to think that they’re dead.”

  “Brendan’s not,” he replied softly.

  “Brendan. Not dead?” Her eyes were wide.

  “No. When the five chaps who’d been stationed near the sheep pens turned up they did a final check of the woolshed to see if anyone was alive. Two of them also went downstairs.”

  He paused and sighed deeply.

  “Stuart, go on.” Her voice was low but impatient.

  “They found Brendan and Susan lying crumpled in a corner behind several others who were dead. There was so much blood and muck around that at first they thought they were both dead. Susan’s body was badly damaged from the explosion--------.”

  Carol shuddered

  “And Brendan’s face was covered in blood. He didn’t respond to the light of the torch and they thought he was dead. Just to be sure one of the soldiers felt for his pulse on the side of his neck and he stirred, moaned and tried to get up.”

  He paused again.

  “Go on, Stuart,” said Carol impatiently.

  “They helped him up and got him to his feet.”

  “So he could walk?”

  “Yes.” His voice faltered. “But they had to lead him.”

  She frowned.

  “Lead him?”

  “Yes. It’s awful. The explosion made him blind.”

  “Brendan. Blind. Oh, God.”

  Gently caressing the back of her neck he continued. “He’s safe and you’ll be able to see him later tonight. He’s lost a lot of his old spark, having to come to terms with his blindness, not to mention Susan’s death and his guilt at hurting her. He’s going to need a lot of support.”

  “Later tonight?”

  “Yes. I’ve arranged-----.”

  “Before you tell me any more, when our men were downstairs did they come across the professor.”

  “Yes they came across him straight away, still in his cubicle.” Stuart briefly shook his head. “He was dead. He was unmarked – must have just passed away in his sleep.”

  “That wonderful old man.” Carol stared unseeingly at the ceiling and then back at Stuart. “What about Hamish?”

  “No. As soon as our men found Brendan alive and managed to bring him upstairs we all forgo
t about anything or anyone else.”

  “The two soldiers who helped me shot him in the leg, gagged him tied him up and left him in our room. Nobody heard anything?”

  “No. If he was alive he did the sensible thing and kept very quiet.”

  “So he’s still there?”

  Stuart shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares?” He kissed her gently on the forehead. “You’re here and that’s the most important thing, my sweet.”

  “And what about the two German girls, Sophie and Gretchen?”

  “No idea. They were in the farmhouse so might have avoided the attack on the woolshed. They weren’t in the farmhouse when I got there. Let’s hope they managed to get away and somehow link up with the university group.”

  “Yes. I don’t fancy their chances if they’re caught by the German authorities. They’re not known for their benevolence to people who betray them.”

  Carol reached up to touch his cheek.

  “You said that I’d see Brendan tonight.”

  “Yes. I’ve arranged for us to be picked up after dark. We’re then being taken by car to rendezvous with a Fightback division in the Waitakere Ranges. It’s more rugged and remote than Albany and therefore also safer. Resistance is beginning to spread, so from there we’re going to re-group and develop a longer-range strategy.”

  “Picked up after dark? Hmm. It’s still daylight.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were glinting.

  “Yes. As I said----.”

  Her urgent mouth was on his and stayed there as he lowered her quickly onto the carpet. Their mutual hunger was intensified by the gamut of emotions that they’d both undergone in the previous twenty-four hours. As Stuart thrust sharply into her Carol winced, gasped and clung to him, her moaning coming from the very depths of her being. Her nails dug deeply into his back as she joined him in a long delirious rhythm.

  They both lay back breathing hoarsely. Stuart, lifting his head from beside her face looked down at her and chuckled softly.

  “Good heavens, girl, you’ve still got half your clothes on.”

  She moved her hand back under his shirt. “So have you. You’re not a gentleman. Just an animal.”

  They lay together for a few minutes in mutual contentment and then kissed again.