Angelique

by Carl Leckey

  She doesn’t answer that question but asks me another instead. “What actually are your plans Adam when you leave here tomorrow?”

  I explain. “I am supposed to be dropping Grand Pere off at his farm then driving back to Le Havre. I have to return to England as soon as possible, Gunter is flying me.” She thinks for a moment before suggesting. “How about leaving him here with me? One of the live in staff member has recently resigned to get married. A local girl is travelling in and won’t require the room in the annex where Alec and I live. It will be easier to keep a close eye on him if he sleeps in there. One of the guests staying over Christmas is a Doctor. I have to confess the Doctor has already agreed he will be available if required. He hasn’t physically examined Grand Pere but agrees he will be better off staying here rather than on a remote farm by himself in winter. Alec will take him home after Christmas if he feels better and of course if he wants to go.”

  My mind is in a whirl when I ask. “Do you think he will agree? What about his farm, his animals?” She replies with a smile of triumph. “I have already spoken to Andre on the telephone earlier. He has since confirmed his son will be delighted to stay on at the farm, in fact he will remain there forever if he is required.” Gratefully I thank her and add. “It seems you have already sorted almost everything out, there is only one item to resolve.

  Will Grand Pere agree to your proposals?” She informs me. “Now is as good a time to ask him, he is at present sitting in the lounge having coffee.”

  I hesitate before pleading. “I will do what you say Marguerite if you will you come with me to confirm you want him to remain here, he is a very independent man?”

  When we meet him he hears our assurances the smallholding is in safe hands and Alec will take him down whenever he requests. He still appears unsure until finally Marguerite shows him the location of the annex room thankfully he agrees with obvious relief to remain at the hotel over the Christmas period.

  Alec and I are discussing Grand Pere later and we arrive at the conclusion, the lift, the height of the Penthouse off the ground and the modern gadgets have frightened him, although he never once complained. Alec points out. “The poor old fella has spent the last ninety years on ground level and we fired him into the heavens. No wonder he was reluctant to stay up there.”

  Grand Pere and I and my friends have our evening meal as guests of the chefs in the staff dining room. On the menu especially for the old man is chicken soup his favourite meal.

  Next morning as I say goodbye to my friends I decide to visit the Lake house on the way to Le Havre for my own peace of mind.

  Andre’s son Edward is pruning apple trees alongside the cottage when I arrive. He assures me everything is as promised. He telephones the lake house and notifies Andre I am here.

  He arrives in about ten minutes and reveals there is something in the outhouse for me.

  He presents me with a beautiful carved rocking horse disclosing it is a gift from himself and his men. He explains this is for allowing their families to enjoy last summer on the estate. Andre reveals they heard about my son and they carved it from one of the trees they felled. This unexpected gift fills me with emotion. My son will certainly enjoy this wonderful toy when he is a little bit older. I decide if possible I must get it to England with me but that depends on Gunter and his flying machine of course.

  As I load it into the car I ask Andre. “Won’t Edward be lonely here over Christmas?”

  He hesitates then agrees. “You know his Mother is very upset because he won’t be joining the family. But my son Edward is a bit of a loner, besides he is living out his dream in this wonderful place. He jumped at the chance when it was offered to him.”

  He adds. “We have always had Christmas together, except during my time away in the army of course.” I casually remark. “If it were only warmer you could have brought your family and spent the holiday here.” Andre considers my remarks for a moment before replying thoughtfully then snaps his fingers and discloses. “I have the solution. “I believe there is a saying that covers the situation.

  If, Mohamed, won’t come to the mountain? Subject to your permission of course? Then the mountain will go to Mohamed.”

  On Christmas Eve I will load my truck with the all the essentials we shall require and bring my Wife and family here for the holiday. It will be a bit basic but we will have everything we need in the house. I couldn’t think of a nicer place to spend Yuletide. The fires will keep the place aired and help to dry out the plaster as well.” He adds excitedly. “I have just had another thought. All the refurbished roasting gear has been recently delivered back from the smithy. I shall try spit roasting lamb.” He gives an exaggerated sniff and says. “I can just smell it now, the roasting meat, the wood smoke, the rosemary.” I laugh shake his hand and say. “Stop it, you are making me hungry. I might be tempted to come back for Christmas myself. Andre if that’s what you want go for it. I certainly have no objection. Although I must admit I would like to be a fly on the wall when you tell you’re good Lady what you have planned.”

  I wave goodbye to Edward, wish him good tidings and set off for Le Havre. The next time I see this wonderful place it will be completed and we will be taking up our residency.

  When I arrive at the depot Harry has a message for me to telephone Suzanne Caspar at her office urgently. Wonders never cease, when I telephone I am connected immediately.

  After exchanging the usual greetings Suzanne explains. “Gunter attempted to contact you at the hotel but you already left, when he failed to do so he telephoned me. Gunter wants you to be here at first light in the morning for your flight back to England, he will be meeting you here. Estelle is staying on with friends until he returns. Adam I realise this will entail a long journey in the dark.

  Would it be more convenient if you stay at my house overnight? It will be a pleasure having you.”

  She adds with a laugh. “It will give me the opportunity to try out my culinary skills on someone else rather than myself.”

  Her invitation moves me, considering the manner in which she greeted me at our first encounter. “I would be honoured Suzanne. May I park my automobile at the depot? Marcel will use it to get back to Le Havre when he returns with Gunter.”

  Unlike Suzanne she replies with a girlish giggle. “Of course you may after all you own the place Mr Eater of Companies.”

  I join her in laughter when she refers to me in such a manner.

  I spend the rest of the morning visiting Yvette and Paul and have lunch at the cafe with Hazel and Harry before setting off to Suzanne’s depot.

  I planned my drive to the Caspar depot aiming it to complete my journey at the end of the working day around five o’clock.

  To my satisfaction I arrive just in time to see the last truck parking up for the night in the compound. Wishing the driver good night she locks the gates located under the newly erected OSCADA sign and joins me in the Rolls. It is already dark as she guides me to her residence, a very smart bungalow located within walking distance of the depot.

  We have an excellent dinner in the company of her senior mechanic and his Wife. They both are very enthusiastic about the future development of civilian flying.

  I have a broken sleep in a comfortable bed apprehensive about the return flight to England. I don’t know why, I certainly enjoyed the flight out here?

  Seven o’clock finds me eating fresh croissants and drinking excellent coffee. I have booked a telephone call on the previous evening to the estate in England. I am telling Mr Humphreys to expect us in the next couple of hours when without warning I lose contact when the line goes completely dead. I attempt contacting the operator a couple of times to no avail eventually I give up in disgust.

  Eight o’clock we are already at the depot in Suzanne’s snug office when Gunter arrives.

  We change into our flying gear, including the parachutes and life jackets Denise insisted we wore. The mechanics have refuelled the plane and prepared it for the flight. It
sits on the grass runway with the engine ticking over. It appears I will have to leave the rocking horse behind until Suzanne reminds us of the flying circuses that have toured France since the end of the war. “Don’t the planes usually have a young lady standing on the wing? Surely if the plane is able to fly impeded with a lady attached then a little wooden horse should be no problem?”

  Gunter laughs when he sees where the mechanics have lashed the Rocking Horse to the upper wing and refers to it as Pegasus the flying horse. Suzanne escorts us to the plane. Good farewells are exchanged then we climb aboard. As the winter sun exposes itself we race down the runway and climb into a cloudless sky.

  I am really enjoying this flying business. The expression, freedom of the air comes to mind.

  I now know exactly how flyers feel.

  I often wondered during the war what motivated men to join the flying corp.

  An extremely dangerous profession with a horrendous casualty rate amongst the new pilots. I can’t believe a short while ago the very thought of flying terrified me. Denise’s plan for us both to pilot ourselves now appears to be feasible. I can’t wait to begin training and purchase our own aeroplane. We shall definitely have an airstrip at the house on the lake if there is a suitable field to utilise.

  About forty minutes later we are flying over the channel when I detect something different, in the tone of the engine. My heart misses a beat until the engine settles down to the usual sound.

  I wonder is Gunter playing a trick on me similar to my maiden flight. Yes that’s it. I laugh and relax until I look down. Panic grips me.

  I am unable to see the water below due to a thick fog appearing.

  We are in my estimation about mid channel about half an hour from my family home and safety. The fog gets thicker until it begins to envelope the entire aeroplane. I have a weird feeling of being wrapped in cotton wool. The engine misses a beat then suddenly backfires with an enormous bang. It stops then roars into life again only to completely stop after a few seconds.

  A deathly silence ensues. The engine does not restart this time despite my pleas to my Guardian Angel. The only sounds I now detect are the wind whistling passed the struts and Gunter shouting from behind me. “Brace yourself Adam we are going down.”

  I am surprised how calm I feel as we glide down to meet our fate. Strangely this setting is similar to events during my wartime service.

  I experienced more fear when I heard the enemy bombers approaching then I found myself much calmer when the bombs began to fall. Unbuckling the useless parachute I whisper. “Guardian Angel if you are still around I really do need your help right now?”

  We hit the water with a tremendous splash the aeroplane does not flip over thankfully it remains right side up. Miraculously it floats on a dead calm sea. I scramble to stand upon the seat. I look back to see with horror Gunter is slumped forward, blood covers his face.

  He is obviously either unconscious or heaven forbid Gunter is dead. The aeroplane shudders and sinks lower. Without a second thought I take to the freezing water and drag myself along to Gunter’s position. With a pronounced gurgle the Aeroplane sinks even lower until the side of the pilot’s cockpit is almost level with me. I observe he is not wearing his harness. I reach in and grasp Gunter’s fur collar just as the Aeroplane sinks leaving us both in the channel. He is not wearing his parachute or life jacket, thankfully mine just about keeps us both afloat.

  Something brushes my arm. I grasp it and immediately recognise it as the rocking horse.

  With difficulty I manoeuvre Gunter until he lies across the horse, using the reigns I secure him. Gunter groans but does not recover consciousness. The fog clears for a moment then returns. The cold is getting to me. I begin to fantasise if I could just have a moments sleep this awful nightmare will end and I will be nice and cosy and warm in my own bed alongside my Denise.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Despair

  My eyes are very heavy I feel I am drifting off my body has no feeling now. I am at peace. In my dream I feel myself being lifted then landing on a hard bed. Gradually I recover to find myself in total darkness shivering in my wet clothes, my chest and arms are very sore. I find myself anchored to something, when I explore my wrist I recognise handcuffs attached to a chain. I detect movement close by. Whispering in English I enquire. “Gunter is that you?”

  I’m startled when a strange voice out of the darkness replies in French. “Your comrade is here my friend but he is unconscious. I hope you understand me. Unfortunately I do not speak English. Please do not tug on the chain it appears we are chained together in some manner”

  “Who are you?” I enquire switching to French. He replies.

  “Thank goodness you speak my language. My name is Henri Leroy. I am a Captain in the Foreign Legion.” I reply with a series of questions. “Where are we? Are we out at sea? What kind of a vessel is this? I presume we are prisoners, who are our captors and why have they taken us prisoner?”

  Henri informs me. “I will answer your questions to the best of my ability. But I must warn you,

  I do not have all the answers.”

  I reply cynically. “We appear to have time on our hands Henri what’s your story then?”

  He explains “I was escorting three of the French Colonial troops to Calais for shipping to the penal establishment on Devils Island. They have all been sentenced to life imprisonment for a variety of serious crimes including rape and robbery. They are desperate men with nothing to lose. Now they have murdered two of my men and taken me prisoner, it will be the Guillotine for them if they are caught. At night they forced me aboard this small coastal vessel and chained me down here in the hold with my own handcuffs. They are well armed with my revolver and my men’s rifles. Would you believe it? This was to be my last assignment. After I delivered them to the ship I was to return to the Legion base in Marseilles for my demobilisation.”

  “Where are the crew of the boat?”

  “They were very likely murdered in their sleep by these swine. Oh yes except for the Captain. I saw they had had him at gun point before they imprisoned me down here. I presume they are making him navigate the vessel for them. I know they are not capable themselves, they are ignorant swine.”

  “What do they intend doing with us, have you any idea?” Before he replies a hatch board slides back, light floods into the hold, a rat scampers across the floor to disappear behind a rack. I shudder with revulsion. God! How I hate these creatures since I witnessed them gorging on the bodies of the dead during the war. Another board is removed giving access to below enabling me to look around my prison. A rope ladder crashes into the hold. A figure climbs over the hatch coaming and descends down the ladder. When he reaches the bottom he sway’s about as if getting his bearings. He pulls a revolver out of his shirt and points it at each one of us in turn making bang noises with his mouth. His actions appear to amuse him as he is convulsed with laughter when he witnesses my alarm. He then staggers across the hold and peers closely at me whilst waving the revolver under my nose. I recognise the sweet smell surrounding him, he reeks of Rum. He says something to me in a language I don’t understand.

  When I don’t reply he shakes his head mumbles something indistinguishable. He moves over to where Gunter is laying full length on the deck, with his toe he gives Gunter a push, the only response from my friend is heavy breathing. Satisfied Gunter is still alive he mutters something. He then turns to the Officer contemplates him for a moment then lands him a vicious kick to the stomach. Captain Leroy groans in pain, the man cackles with glee. Another face appears in the hatch, a shouted conversation takes place between them, again in a language I don’t understand. A loaf is tossed down presumably to share between us followed by a bucket of water placed within our reach. The drunken fellow unhooks the bucket then staggers to the side of the hold where he promptly spews up. His companion above roars with laughter and shouts something. The drunk shakes his fist in his direction and responds angrily. He then climbs th
e rope ladder with difficulty then both disappear from view leaving the hatch covers off.

  To my amazement Gunter speaks. “Are you alright Adam?” I retort

  “Bloody Hell Gunter, thank goodness, never mind me, how are you?”

  “I am alright Adam apart from a headache. I have been listening to our captors I thought it advantageous to feign unconsciousness. Bonjour! Captain Leroy.”

  “Bonjour! Gunter, did you understand what they were saying. I am familiar with Arabic spoken in their country but the language they used baffled me?” Gunter explains. “They are indeed natives of Morocco they spoke in a minor language used in Southern Morocco Hassaniyya Arabic or to use the common term to describe it is Moorish.”

  I congratulate him. “Thank goodness for your linguistic ability Gunter. What were they on about anyway?” He explains. “The fellow that came down here is a drunk and has found his way into the vessels liquor store. The good news is they are all suffering from seasickness, him more so than the others.” I request. “What are they going to do with us, did they say?”

  He informs us. “It appears they are making for Tangier they haven’t finally decided what to do with us yet. Those two are all for throwing us overboard, but their leader is considering selling us and the Captain of the ship to the slavers in Morocco.”

  I reply incredulously. “They are joking! Surely there isn’t slavery any more is there?”

  Captain Leroy informs us. “Tangier was my last posting before the war. I am afraid there is still slavery in a number of Arab states. I am not aware of adult men being sold into slavery except maybe bonded slaves, there are definitely children and female slaves. I believe they will have difficulties entering the port. There is a French garrison based in Tangier, the port is strictly controlled.”

  I say hopefully “That is the best chance then if we are able to attract some ones attention when they try to get us ashore.” We are silent for a moment considering our positions until I break the silence. “What do you reckon caused the problem with the aeroplane engine Gunter?”