*
They took a car to Broadway Buildings where they were dropped off just before the office door, to the side of which – Alex was amused to see – somebody had screwed a brass plate that read, ‘Minimax Fire Extinguisher Company’.
Commander Jeffers and Alex entered the building and went straight to the commander’s office where he insisted that Alex joined him in a drink. Talking through the events of the past two days, Commander Jeffers seemed pleased with the result, not least because a minor victory had been scored over MI(Q), who were, if not sworn enemies, then certainly a thorn in the flesh of his department.
Since Simon had left for Sweden, the commander had taken a new assistant, a pretty Wren third officer by the name of Daphne Devine, who Miss Willoughby seemed to regard with a degree of amused detachment. ‘Far too flighty,’ was how Miss Willoughby had been heard to describe Third Officer Devine, although, from the limited interaction that Alex had experienced with her, she seemed highly efficient. Alex wondered whether it was only professional jealousy that existed between the women or whether Third Officer Devine’s youth and attractiveness exacerbated the situation.
Third Officer Devine brought some papers for the commander to sign, so he introduced her to Alex.
‘Are you settling in well?’ Alex asked.
She had an intelligent face and lively, sparkling slate-grey eyes that complemented what appeared to be naturally blonde hair. ‘Yes, thank you, sir,’ she replied, obviously the informality of the department had not yet rubbed off on her. ‘It makes quite a change from what I was doing before, sir.’
‘Did you not care for your previous posting?’ Alex questioned.
‘Not really, sir,’ she said, ‘I was the only girl in an office at a training establishment full of young naval officers.’
‘I see.’ Alex nodded sagely.
She smiled sweetly and left him together with Commander Jeffers.
‘She’s engaged to be married to the first lieutenant of the Tomcat,’ Commander Jeffers explained.
‘Tomcat?’ Alex queried.
‘It’s a T-class submarine based at Plymouth, which is currently stalking U-boats in the Atlantic,’ Jeffers explained.
‘I see,’ Alex repeated, again nodding perceptively.
‘So, to your situation,’ Jeffers began. ‘Now that we have got the board of inquiry out of the way, we can focus on getting you active. You are travelling to Sweden onboard a Swedish liner, the S/S Suecia, which has been chartered by the Swedish government to take Swedish nationals out of the war zone. The Germans have given her safe passage, although that counts for nothing should an overeager U-boat commander take a pot-shot at her; it is unlikely that the Kriegsmarine would reprimand him. Indeed, he’d probably get the Iron Cross! Plus, there are the minefields to negotiate.
‘The ship sails at high tide on Monday morning so that it will complete most of its journey during daylight. The plan is as it was previously. You will board the overnight sleeper from Euston to Glasgow on Saturday, and the train will make its regular stop at Rugby, where you will alight and catch the next Great Central train back to London Marylebone. You will be met on the sleeper train by a person who will change places with you and continue to his destination as “Lieutenant Carlton”, so that a “Lieutenant Carlton” arrives in Glasgow as expected.
‘When you are back in London, you will be met off the train at Marylebone and taken straight to a safe house, where you will spend Saturday night. It is here that you will receive your identity papers, legend and travel documents. You need to memorise your legend as, from that point onwards, that is who you are; you will become Alex Carlsson, so you must forget all associations with Alex Carlton.
‘You will receive a briefing on Sunday morning before being taken to Tilbury, where you will stop at your overnight hotel, which – I believe – is not far from the port. You need to be at the port a minimum of two hours before sailing, as the Swedish Lloyd shipping line has given an undertaking to Germany that, in exchange for safe passage, they will only embark Swedish nationals, so there will be more checks than usual. That will not be a problem, as your passport and documentation are all genuine.
‘On arrival at Gothenburg, you will catch the train to Stockholm, where you will go straight to your apartment to await contact later that evening. Onward transport from Stockholm to Finland is being arranged locally through our contacts in Sweden.
‘We have made arrangements for you to telephone your wife before embarkation, and a script will be provided to convince her that you are in Scotland. I am truly sorry that we are expecting you to lie to your new wife, it is never the basis of a good marriage, but it is also important that she does not know your true destination, because security is paramount in this business. An unguarded comment spoken innocently could jeopardise your safety and compromise the mission. Any questions?’
Alex shook his head and wondered how Teddy would feel if she knew precisely what he would be doing.
‘Now, this should not concern you particularly,’ Jeffers confided, ‘but the head of the Secret Intelligence Service, Admiral “Quex” Sinclair, is extremely ill at the moment and is unlikely to survive. Rumour has it that the front-runner for his replacement is army and has stated that he would intend to rationalise our various departments. It is probably overdue as the “Secret” Service is just too secret at the moment; we even have secrets within departments, as you saw at the board of inquiry with the Shakesheff fiasco. There will likely be mergers and amalgamations between departments, because we have too many small units working independently.
‘We should be all right, as we were set up under the instructions of the First Lord of the Admiralty himself, who – as you know – has a huge, popular following at the moment, so nobody is likely to ruffle Winston’s feathers by closing down one of his pet projects. Simon will keep you up to date with developments in this matter, but, as it stands, your orders remain as before, and I doubt they will change because knowing what is happening in the Baltic region is so crucial to other strategies. All right?’
Alex nodded his assent; he had heard about Quex Sinclair’s illness through the rumour mill, together with having heard various opinions about what would happen after his demise, some of which were ridiculous, but others that had some merit. Naturally, he had been concerned about his own situation in the aftermath. Right then, it would seem, he had been given the nod as to the likely direction the wind was blowing, and it was still filling his sails.
‘Good!’ the commander continued, changing the subject again, ‘It might be a good idea if you write about your experiences of being repatriated, so that it can be published in Sweden by Svenska-Posten. That will add weight to your cover story – you might even try not to be too complimentary about us British in your story.
‘Now, go home and spend some time with Teddy; it might be some time before you see her again.’ The commander smiled apologetically.
Alex rose from the chair.
Commander Jeffers shook him by the hand and stated, ‘I do not doubt that you will do extremely well in your assignment, but be careful. I have seen several young men off on missions, but I have become more fond of you than of most, possibly because young Simon recommended you and holds your friendship dear. I really do not want to have to explain the unthinkable to the brigadier’s daughter should it go awry because something awful has happened.’
Did Alex detect a slight waver in the commander’s voice? ‘Sir, I shall do my utmost. Believe me, I do not want you to have to talk to my wife in such a manner either.’
‘God go with you, Alex.’
It was the first time that Alex had heard the commander acknowledge any belief in a deity.
XXXVII
Alex arrived home shortly after 7.00pm, having come straight from Broadway Buildings, and when he told Teddy that the board of inquiry had concluded and that he had been exonerated
, he could unmistakably see the tension lift from her body as the weight of concern was taken from her shoulders. She flung her arms around his neck, drawing him to her and holding him tightly, almost as if afraid to let go, and he heard her give thanks to God that the ordeal was over.
After he had changed into a housecoat and slippers, Alex slipped down to the kitchen to tell Klara that he was home and that they planned on eating in that evening, if it were not an inconvenience.
‘Of course not, sir,’ Klara said, ‘I am afraid that it will only be leftovers, but I will see what I can do to dress them up a little.’
Shortly afterwards, Alex and Teddy sat down to a dinner of lamb rissoles with a medley of vegetables – simple food, but delicious nevertheless. After eating, they sat together while Alex spent the rest of the evening lying to his wife by telling her the concocted story of his imminent departure to Scotland. He explained to her that she should not worry as he was going to be undertaking work of a secret nature on a remote estate in the Highlands of Scotland that had been commissioned by the War Office.
‘I cannot even find the place on a map,’ Alex explained to her, ‘so the likelihood of the Luftwaffe finding it is extremely remote. The place seems to be in the middle of absolutely nowhere, although I’m sure that the scenery around the estate will be truly magnificent, not that I think I will have much time for sightseeing. I shall try to telephone you when I have arrived, but I don’t know whether I’ll get a connection. The place is so hush-hush that we are not allowed to receive callers or even telephone calls, so in case you need to contact me for any reason, I will give you Commander Jeffers contact details, and I’m sure that he will be able to get a message to me one way or another.
‘Incidentally, the commander has got a new assistant to replace Simon. She is a lot more attractive than he was, as well as being super-efficient, or so they say. Her name is Daphne Devine, and she’s a third officer in the Wrens; she seems pleasant enough.’
‘I suppose women are replacing men in just about every department nowadays; I have even heard that they are training to be train drivers,’ Teddy commented.
‘The good news is that we have the whole of tomorrow and much of Saturday together. I’m expecting my orders to be delivered at some point in the morning, when I shall know the timescales for certain, but, for the moment, let’s just enjoy what time we have got left because God alone knows when I will get my first leave.’
As they lay in bed that night, neither able to sleep, Alex’s mind filled with the excitement of the task ahead, and Teddy’s crammed with the fear of Alex going to war. Eventually, however, she decided that she ought to try to sleep, so that they could enjoy their last full day together without her yawning constantly. Thus, Teddy leaned over and kissed Alex sweetly on his forehead before bidding him goodnight.
Alex lay awake for a few more minutes before slumber overtook him also.
*
Over breakfast the following morning, Alex and Teddy decided to spend their last full day together in the magnificent English countryside, somewhere where it was quiet and where Alex could continue perfecting his nascent driving skills before having a quiet evening at home, just the two of them. First, though, they had decided that they ought to call at Bedford Square, just in case Alex did not get another opportunity to say farewell to his mother and Uncle Walter.
The best-laid plans o’ mice an’ men, gang aft a-gley, is what the Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote; thus it was that Alex’s plans for a quiet evening fell into that category after their visit to Bedford Square.
Alex’s mother had no intention at all of letting her only son go off to war without spending as much time as she could with him. As soon as she learned that he was leaving the next day, she insisted that she and Uncle Walter gave him the send-off that befitted a warrior going to war. She decided that they would go out to dinner somewhere special that evening, just the four of them – and she was not taking no for an answer. Despite Alex’s protestations that he and Teddy had planned a quiet evening at home, there was no changing her mind; this was a mother’s duty to the son whom she may never see again.
Determined to get out and about a little before they needed to go home to get ready for the evening, and after bidding adieu to his mother, Alex and Teddy headed out towards Richmond and the Royal Park.
Although not yet a competent driver himself, Alex could see that Teddy was enjoying the restrained power that the 4.3 litre six-cylinder engine was delivering. He could sense that the 138-horsepower engine was straining to be let loose, but Teddy kept her concentration while driving sensibly and within the car’s capabilities as they headed out of the city.
As soon as they reached the countryside, Teddy pulled the car into a layby and suggested that Alex took over. He spent a good hour exploring Richmond Park and improving his driving skills before, eventually, he eased the Alvis into the car park of a tea room, where on sunny days patrons could enjoy their refreshment in the apple orchard. That day was not one of those days, so they sat indoors, enjoying a pot of tea served in a willow-pattern teapot with matching cups and saucers, and a slice of Welsh Rarebit each before heading home.
The afternoon was drawing towards evening as they followed the A3 towards London, and they could not help but notice that the traffic was getting heavier the closer they got to the capital. They crossed the Albert Bridge, and the air-raid sirens started to wail when they turned off the King’s Road into Old Church Street, almost within sight of their home, so Alex and Teddy decided to risk it and continue their journey; as they pulled up outside Onslow Gardens, the all-clear sounded.
When they let themselves into the house, Teddy called to Klara, ‘I hope you do not mind the short notice, but we shall be eating out this evening, and my husband is leaving to go to his posting tomorrow. Will you please make sure that his uniform and clothes are ready this evening?’
‘Of course,’ said Klara, ‘I will make sure that everything is packed neatly.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Teddy.
‘Thank you, milady,’ Kara responded in kind.
It was the first time that Teddy had been called “milady”, and it did not sit well with her. ‘When we are alone, please call me either Teddy or Mrs Carlton or something else, but never, “milady”!’ Teddy instructed.
‘Of course, Miss Teddy.’ Klara obviously knew her station in life and did not intend to be disrespectful. ‘By the way, sir, a motorcyclist brought an important envelope for you earlier; I have put it on the desk in the morning room.’
‘Thank you,’ said Alex, and he went to recover his correspondence, which he secreted quickly in his inside pocket.
‘What is it?’ asked Teddy.
‘My orders, but I am not opening them tonight; I want nothing to spoil our last night together, and I know it sounds churlish, but I certainly did not want to spend it with Mama and Uncle Walter!’
‘Let them do this thing for you, and we can come home early to have the rest of the time together.’ Teddy was most conciliatory.
*
Uncle Walter’s Rolls-Royce arrived at 7.30pm, as agreed, even though both Teddy and Alex were ready ahead of time.
‘If we have to do this, let us go and eat to satisfy my mother’s urge to launch my career in the navy,’ declared Alex.
They opened the front door, walked down to the car and waited until the chauffeur had trooped around the car to open the door for them.
As Teddy bent down and stepped up to get into the car, she realised how much tighter her dresses were becoming, and she decided that she needed to go shopping before they went to Gloucestershire; God only knew what the fashion was in the shires.
‘I thought we would go to The Dorchester,’ Uncle Walter began, ‘but then your mother remembered that place you told her about that Simon had taken you to. I have to say that getting a table reserved at the Canard d’Or is more difficult than
getting a table at The Dorchester, but I persuaded them eventually!’
Once they arrived at the restaurant, the chauffeur dropped them off before going to park the car. They bypassed the queue that was waiting in hope and were greeted by the maître d’, almost as if they were members of his own family. The table that they were shown to was one of the best in the restaurant, causing Alex to wonder precisely what Uncle Walter must have mortgaged to secure such an honour.
The waiter brought the menus, and, without bothering to look, Uncle Walter asked for the recommendation of the day.
‘Monsieur,’ the waiter began, ‘tonight we ’ave some excellent caviar and the chef ’e ’as made some delightfully light crêpes, to serve alongside we ’ave some sour cream, some chopped egg yolks and whites, some chopped shallots, and some chopped cornichons.’
‘Excellent,’ said Uncle Walter, ‘all round, I think?’ He looked around the table for dissenters and found none. He re-engaged with the waiter.
‘Next, we ’ave a special fish soup called ukha that the chef ’e recommends ’ighly,’ the waiter explained.
‘Admirable,’ said Uncle Walter.
‘For the entrée, we recommend a speciality that is particularly good tonight, a dish from the country of Georgia called chakhokhbili, which is a delicious feast of chicken with ’erbs.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ said Uncle Walter, ‘Shall we all have the same?’
For one instant, when he asked the waiter what he could recommend, Alex truly believed that his uncle was leaving it up to the waiter to suggest the food. But he now realised that the entire menu had been constructed carefully to feature his favourite foods from childhood, and he realised that he had been set up.
‘Dearest Uncle,’ he began, ‘only you could persuade the chef of a well-regarded French restaurant to produce an entire menu of Russian food! I am truly touched, and now I am having a private wager with myself that I can name the dessert.’
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